Then she turned to Lisa and slung her arm across her friend’s shoulder. “Okay, so now this werehorse makes friends with a vampmare …”
S TEVIE WONDERED IF she would ever get used to the feeling of Phil holding her hand when they walked. It wasn’t a very efficient way to walk through a wooded area—single file was much better—but it was more fun.
“Did you bring the marshmallows?” Phil asked.
“Oh, no, I forgot. How dumb of me!”
“That’s okay. After that dinner, I’m not very hungry.”
“Me, neither,” Stevie said. “Maybe that’s why I forgot the marshmallows. You know, I really didn’t want them, but I didn’t know it.”
Phil smiled. It was that smile that made Stevie’s knees melt. “Why don’t we sit down someplace?” she suggested, hoping she could sit down before she fell down. Not that his smile could really make her faint, but a full day of riding hadn’t helped her knees, either.
“Here’s a clearing, I think,” Phil said. It was awfully hard to see. The night sky was overcast and they were deep in a forest, but there appeared to be a small open space. Carefully, Stevie lowered herself onto the crunchy leaves, sitting cross-legged. Phil sat facing herand took her hand. She no longer shivered when he did that, but she did tingle.
“Tired?” he asked.
“A little,” she conceded. “I like riding and I like doing a lot of it, but Barry’s schedule for us is really rugged.”
“Too much for the famed Saddle Club?” Phil teased.
Stevie wasn’t crazy about his tone. Phil was very special to her, but so was The Saddle Club, and she didn’t like him making fun of it.
“The Saddle Club is made up of me and my two best friends,” Stevie said, knowing she sounded defensive. “We’ve accomplished some pretty good things together in the past, and I think you’ll have a chance to see us do impressive things in the future, too.”
“I will?” Phil said, obviously curious.
“Yes, you will,” Stevie assured him. “In fact, in case you didn’t know it, we’re working on several projects at this very minute!”
“Here, with me?”
“No, I don’t mean here. I just mean we’re in the process. It has to do with riding and it has to do with the show next weekend and it has to do with some of the campers who think they are going to win absolutely everything at the show.”
“You mean like me?”
“Huh?” Stevie responded in surprise. “You mean
you
think you’re going to take all the prizes?”
“Is there anybody here good enough to beat me?” Phil asked.
Stevie thought about it for a minute. It was too dark to see Phil’s face, but it certainly sounded to her as if he were completely serious. It had never really occurred to her that Phil might feel that way. He was a good enough rider—experienced, secure—but a champion? No, she was better than he was.
“I’m asking,” Phil repeated. “Do you think you and your friends can beat me?”
One of Stevie’s biggest faults was that she often spoke before she thought.
“Of course we can beat you,” she said, absolutely certain that she was one hundred percent right.
“That’s what you think.” He spoke sharply. Stevie was angry. How could he possibly think that he was as good a rider as she was? He was
almost
as good as she was, but not better, and certainly not better than Carole.
“You’re crazy,” she snapped. “The Saddle Club is going to outride, outrun, and outribbon every single rider in this camp. You included.”
Stevie stood up. Phil stood up, too.
“I—” he began. Stevie didn’t let him finish. She didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. If he thought he was better than she was, well then hecould just spend some time alone with that wonderful thought.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she announced. She spun on her heel and marched through the woods. Branches snapped in her face, but she didn’t feel them. She nearly tripped over a root, and
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