Trail Ride (4 page)

Kate nodded. “Misery loves company.”

“Exactly.”

“So you think we should tell her we’re bored and not having any fun?” Lisa asked doubtfully. “Won’t that be lying?”

“Think of it as exaggerating the low points,” Carole told her. “We could say things like, the plane ride was long … and the turbulence wasn’t
too
bad.”

They passed under a large sign that announced their arrival at the Bar None Ranch.

“How about: The dirt road to the ranch seemed even bumpier and dustier than we remembered,” Lisa suggested.

Kate looked insulted. “Hey!”

Lisa laughed. “I’m only doing what you and Carole told me to.”

Kate shook her head. “I think this exaggerating thing is going to need some fine-tuning,” she muttered.

The truck rolled to a stop in front of a sprawling ranch house, the front of which was encompassed by a spacious wooden porch scattered with comfortable-looking
chairs. A large metal triangle, used to call everyone to meals, was hanging next to the front door. Arranged in a semicircle behind the main house were the guest bunkhouses and the barn.

“I put the three of you in your usual bunkhouse,” Mrs. Devine said, opening the tailgate for the girls. Kate, could you take them inside and help them unpack? I have to check on dinner.” She strode away.

The girls hauled their suitcases out of the bed of the pickup and followed Kate toward the wooden building. “I hope you guys are hungry, because Mom’s been cooking all day for you.”

Carole and Lisa exchanged glances behind her back. The truth was they had snacked and drank their way across the country on the plane. “Er … I could eat a horse,” Carole told her.

Kate faced her, looking very solemn. “You know, that thar’s a hanging offense in this here part of the country.” She laughed. “Besides, Mom only slaughtered you a steer each. I, on the other hand, have peeled and mashed enough potatoes to feed half the county. Then there’s the corn on the cob, the fresh baked bread with homemade jam, and Mom’s world-class apple pie to be washed down with giant scoops of vanilla ice cream.”

The three of them entered the warm confines of the bunkhouse. It was clear that Mrs. Devine had gone out of her way to make the place even more hospitable than it normally was. Along with the usual beds and familiar potbellied stove, there were fresh flowers and homemade cookies on each of the girls’ nightstands and extra pillows with hand-embroidered cases on all three bunks. Huge, fluffy comforters completed the picture.

Kate threw herself down on one of the beds. “Oh. Mom left you each a little welcome-back-to-the-ranch gift under your pillows. And if the sheets smell a little funny, its because she insisted on putting some French powder between them to make sure they wouldn’t smell musty.” She grinned at her two friends. “So, we have a few minutes, what do you say to knocking out that desperately bored and unhappy e-mail to Stevie?”

Carole looked around her helplessly and inhaled a big breath. The smell of fragrant cooking was wafting over from the main house. “Hoo boy, you guys,” she said seriously, “I think we’re in trouble already.”

L
ISA
’
S EYES POPPED
open, and for a moment she was disoriented—until a crowing rooster announced the early hour and the previous day’s events came flooding back to her. After a glorious flight, she and Carole were at the Bar None Ranch.

She looked around at the bunkhouse, allowing herself a few moments of utter peace, indulging in nothing more cerebral than watching small dust motes dance in the early morning light streaming through the windows. She wriggled her toes under the fluffy covers and pulled cool, crisp, country air into her lungs. She made a mental note to store up these memories to savor again during the grind of the upcoming school year.

“Good morning, Nightmare,” she said to the little stuffed pony sitting on the pillow next to her head. It was the welcome-back gift Mrs. Devine had left for her. The little brown-and-white-striped, loosely stuffed, pony-shaped bag was filled with peppermint and chamomile and was meant to be placed soothingly across the eyes or forehead. Carole had received a similar bag, which she had named Glory, after a foal she had helped birth.

Looking to her right, Lisa saw that Carole was not only still asleep but had apparently decided that plastering Glory over her eyes was the best response to the bright sunshine and rowdy rooster’s chorus. Lisa rolled over to check on Kate. To her surprise the bed was not only empty, it was made!

Lisa sat up abruptly. The air that had seemed so crisp and refreshing moments before suddenly felt chilly and uninviting. She yanked the covers up over her pajama top and forced herself into full wakefulness.

Of course Kate’s up and gone
, she thought.
This is a dude ranch and everybody has morning chores.
A wave of guilt washed over her for her lazy city ways. She leaned over the side of her bed and spotted her new slippers. Wrinkling her nose distastefully, she picked one up. The red velvet monstrosities had her initials monogrammed on
the toes in gold thread: her mother’s idea of what the “best people wore.” She hated them. Taking careful aim, she tossed one at Carole’s feet.

Carole muttered and rolled over, pulling her feet far under the covers, unknowingly presenting Lisa with her pajama-clad backside as a target.

“Wakey, wakey,” Lisa called sweetly.

Carole’s response was muffled by her pillow, but Lisa was fairly sure she had said something along the lines of “Just five more minutes, Dad.”

Unable to resist the target, Lisa lobbed her other slipper at Carole’s defenseless posterior. She was delighted with her accuracy and the groan from her victim. “Rise and shine!” she bellowed.

Carole faced her in a flash, sitting up stiffly and planting both bare feet firmly on the cold wood planking. “Lisa!” she cried with outrage. “I was still sleeping.”

“Oooh, looks like somebody’s not a morning person,” said a voice from the doorway. Kate strolled in, carrying a tray.

Carole rubbed her hands over her face. “Morning, Kate. Thanks, Lisa,” she added sheepishly. “I might have slept the whole morning away.”

“Jet lag?” Kate inquired sympathetically. “A lot of our greenhorns experience that.”

Lisa felt herself bristle and then realized their friend was merely teasing them. “I’m exhausted,” she said, throwing herself back on the pillow melodramatically. “What’s that? Room service?”

Kate gave her a baleful look. “As a matter of fact, it is,” she said, putting the tray down on a table. “But don’t get used to it. Mom was shocked when I told her you weren’t out of bed two hours ago with the rest of the hands.”

The smell of food coaxed Lisa from the comfort of her bed. Self-consciously she wrapped herself in her new blue bathrobe and hurried to the table. “Hot oatmeal and maple syrup. Mmmmmm.”

“And homemade biscuits with gravy!” Carole cried with delight, joining her.

Kate slid into an armchair next to the potbellied stove. “Cowboys have biscuits with every meal,” she said mournfully.

“Don’t you like them?” Lisa asked around a mouthful of biscuit, butter, and gravy. The thought that her mother would have swooned at her bad manners somehow delighted her.

“They were great,” Kate assured them. “Every day, for the first ten years of my life.”

“Overkill,” Carole laughed as she generously
covered her oatmeal with syrup. “Happens in everyone’s family.”

“Look, don’t take too long eating,” Kate said. “I have the whole day planned. It’s a surprise. And you’ll need an extra T-shirt.”

“Does this ‘something special’ involve riding?” Lisa asked hopefully.

Kate rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you even need to ask. Get dressed and meet me at the corral. Only the paying customers get their horses saddled for them.”

“I’ve got a couple of bucks,” Carole offered between mouthfuls.

“That wouldn’t even pay for valet parking these days,” Kate said, lifting her nose in the air. “We do run a classy establishment, you know.” She got halfway through the door and turned around. “Hey, Lisa, what did your mom pack for you this time?”

Lisa felt herself blush at the thought of all the fancy clothes her mother had insisted on buying her for the trip. She had tried to explain that all she needed were a few pairs of old jeans and a couple of shirts, but her mother refused to change her mind. “Don’t worry, I buried my old stuff in the bottom of the suitcase while mom was out of the room.”

Carole looked at her. “Taking a page out of Stevie’s book?”

Lisa shrugged and grinned. “Learn from the best, that’s my motto.”

“Whatever,” Kate told them. “Just get out here pronto, we’re—”

“Burning daylight!” they finished for her.

Kate laughed. “I really have missed you guys.” Then she disappeared out the door.

Urged on by the prospect of a day spent on horseback, Lisa and Carole gobbled their breakfast and threw on their oldest jeans, broken-in cowboy boots, and sweaters over light T-shirts, and they pulled their hair back in ponytails for maximum efficiency and minimum bother.

On their way to the corral, Lisa had a chance to observe some of the changes the ranch had undergone since their last visit. From the fresh paint on the barn to the new wood on the corrals, everything had an air of prosperity. “Looks like Kate’s folks are doing okay,” she observed.

“Glad to see it. They went through some close calls financially, remember?”

Lisa nodded. If anyone had deserved a break, it was the Devines. They were really nice, hardworking people.

“I hear they’ve had some personnel changes, though,” Carole said tentatively.

Lisa noted her friend’s hesitant look. “It’s okay, I know he’s not here anymore. You don’t have to try to break it to me gently.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t sure if you’d heard. You and John …”

“John Brightstar was very special and he still is. I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” Lisa said firmly.

“Skye Ransom and John Brightstar…,” Carole muttered quietly.

Lisa frowned. “What about them?”

Carole broke into a wide grin. “You sure do have good taste.”

That did it: Any clouds on Lisa’s horizon were gone. She was at the Bar None with two of her best friends, on a sunny day with weeks left before school started. What more could she ask for?

Then she saw her. She was leaning against the rails of the corral, a gleam in her eyes and a bit in her mouth. Lisa’s heart skipped a beat. “Chocolate,” she whispered in wonder. “You beautiful creature!”

The Bay mare whinnied a greeting.

“Berry!” Carole called out delightedly to the strawberry roan beside her. “I knew you would wait for me.”

The two girls scrambled through the fence and slipped their arms around the horses’ necks.

“I take it you approve of the riding accommodations,” a drawling voice said beside them.

Lisa disentangled herself from the horse. A young woman with a weathered cowboy hat pulled low over her eyes stepped out from the stable.

“Howdy, I’m Paula,” she said, offering a leather-gloved hand.

Lisa shook it. By her estimation Paula was no more than five foot three and couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred and five pounds even if her jeans, boots, and faded work shirt had been soaking wet.

“I’m Lisa. This is Carole.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Carole.

Kate joined them. “Oh good, you guys have met.”

“Welcome to the Bar None,” Paula said formally.

“Paula, these are my friends,” Kate said.

Paula eyed them up and down. “The expert riders you told me about?”

Kate nodded. “Yep.”

“Then why did I have to saddle their horses for them?”

Lisa felt embarrassed. “Jet lag?” she suggested apologetically.

Paula nodded mournfully. “Oh yeah, that’s one of those city-folk diseases, isn’t it? Makes you stay in bed all day for no good reason?”

Lisa felt herself blushing.

Carole stepped forward. “Sorry, Paula, won’t happen again.”

Paula smiled in a way that implied she was certain it would. “I have things to do, but I’m sure Kate won’t mind showing you where the mounting block is.” She trudged away.

“Mounting block?” Carole said indignantly.

“I know, I know,” Kate said, throwing her hands up defensively. “She’s kind of the Eeyore of the ranch, but she’s actually very nice once you scratch the surface.”

“We’re only going to be here for a week,” Lisa reminded her. “How deep do you think we’ll get?”

“Paper cut, maybe. Flesh wound, tops.”

All three girls burst into laughter.

“I can’t wait to tell Stevie about her,” Carole said. “Paula makes her cousin Dava look like Auntie Mame!”

Kate looked puzzled. “Who?”

“Auntie Mame,” Carole reiterated. “From the old movie with Rosalind Russell.”

“Lucille Ball played the part, too,” Lisa offered helpfully. “In the musical version.”

“True,” Carole conceded, “but critics agree that Russell achieved the quintessential carefree, live-life-to-the-hilt spirit of the character to a much more satisfying degree.”

Nobody said anything for a moment.

“Of course, the musical version did have Robert Preston,” Carole acknowledged.