disappointed frown, “gourmet food at horse shows is pretty tasty, too.”
As they continued their ride, Lisa felt some of her anxieties about the show return. The crowd of people milling around seemed better dressed and less friendly than any horse show crowd she had ever seen. The horses all looked incredible, well muscled with glossy flanks and proud heads.
With pride of her own, Lisa noticed that Samson, now that he was released from the van, seemed to be taking the entire scene—the crowds, the strangehorses, the new environment—in stride. He was a little skittish, but he was curiously surveying the scene, swinging his head from side to side.
If only I could be that calm
, Lisa thought. She became quieter and quieter until Carole suddenly said with authority, “Lisa, you have one of the best horses here.”
“Really?” Lisa asked, in almost a whisper.
Carole nodded. “I haven’t seen any horses that look as impressive as Samson,” she said.
Except my Starlight
, she thought with affection—but she didn’t say that out loud. She could sense how intimidated Lisa felt.
“Hey, you two,” Stevie said excitedly. She had been riding a little ahead of them on Danny. She reined him in and waited for the others to catch up. Then she pointed at a group of people walking together. “Aren’t those the number one, two, and three riders from the USET?”
Carole and Lisa looked, and sure enough, the three top members of the United States Equestrian Team were not more than twenty feet away from them, walking toward the stables. The Saddle Club had watched these three on television, riding in national and international competitions, but they’d never been this close to such famous riders. For the three girls, it was almost like meeting movie stars.
“There they are, in real life,” Carole said dreamily. “I don’t care if I embarrass myself by asking—I have to get their autographs.”
“Just think,” said Stevie. “They were probably junior riders like us once, wishing that they could get autographs of famous riders they had watched on television. I’m sure they won’t mind. I don’t care, anyway,” she added determinedly. “I want their autographs too badly. I’d do anything for them, wash their horses, wash their van …”
Lisa said nothing at first. Although she was excited by the sight of the three USET members, she also noticed that they were wearing red—that is, pink—jackets, just like the one her mother had bought for her two days before. Then she remembered that neither Carole nor Stevie had seen her purchase. “Nice jackets,” she murmured, tentatively looking at Carole and Stevie. “Don’t you think?”
Carole put on what Lisa and Stevie described as her lecturing face, the expression she wore when she was about to dispense some piece of knowledge about horses or riding. “They are gorgeous, yes, but do you know why they’re wearing them?” she said. “Red jackets are usually described as pink. The only riders who wear them regularly are those with at least four or five seasons of experience in the hunt field. And, of course, members of USET who compete in hunt events or are members of an official hunt club will traditionally wear that color. You’ll also see hunting pinks on the British Equestrian Team, because so many more riders over there learn how to ride the open hunt course. I’m surethe three of them competed in the open hunt event—where they ride a course with obstacles like a brush jump or a ditch. Look, you can see the special patches they wear on the jacket to show the country of their team.”
“Okay, knock it off, Professor,” said Stevie, laughing. “Everyone knows red jackets are called pink, and everyone also knows who gets to wear them.” Carole stopped lecturing and smiled sheepishly. She knew she had a tendency to get carried away.
After hearing Carole’s little speech, Lisa felt a sinking feeling. Now she really couldn’t admit her purchase
As they continued their ride, Lisa felt some of her anxieties about the show return. The crowd of people milling around seemed better dressed and less friendly than any horse show crowd she had ever seen. The horses all looked incredible, well muscled with glossy flanks and proud heads.
With pride of her own, Lisa noticed that Samson, now that he was released from the van, seemed to be taking the entire scene—the crowds, the strangehorses, the new environment—in stride. He was a little skittish, but he was curiously surveying the scene, swinging his head from side to side.
If only I could be that calm
, Lisa thought. She became quieter and quieter until Carole suddenly said with authority, “Lisa, you have one of the best horses here.”
“Really?” Lisa asked, in almost a whisper.
Carole nodded. “I haven’t seen any horses that look as impressive as Samson,” she said.
Except my Starlight
, she thought with affection—but she didn’t say that out loud. She could sense how intimidated Lisa felt.
“Hey, you two,” Stevie said excitedly. She had been riding a little ahead of them on Danny. She reined him in and waited for the others to catch up. Then she pointed at a group of people walking together. “Aren’t those the number one, two, and three riders from the USET?”
Carole and Lisa looked, and sure enough, the three top members of the United States Equestrian Team were not more than twenty feet away from them, walking toward the stables. The Saddle Club had watched these three on television, riding in national and international competitions, but they’d never been this close to such famous riders. For the three girls, it was almost like meeting movie stars.
“There they are, in real life,” Carole said dreamily. “I don’t care if I embarrass myself by asking—I have to get their autographs.”
“Just think,” said Stevie. “They were probably junior riders like us once, wishing that they could get autographs of famous riders they had watched on television. I’m sure they won’t mind. I don’t care, anyway,” she added determinedly. “I want their autographs too badly. I’d do anything for them, wash their horses, wash their van …”
Lisa said nothing at first. Although she was excited by the sight of the three USET members, she also noticed that they were wearing red—that is, pink—jackets, just like the one her mother had bought for her two days before. Then she remembered that neither Carole nor Stevie had seen her purchase. “Nice jackets,” she murmured, tentatively looking at Carole and Stevie. “Don’t you think?”
Carole put on what Lisa and Stevie described as her lecturing face, the expression she wore when she was about to dispense some piece of knowledge about horses or riding. “They are gorgeous, yes, but do you know why they’re wearing them?” she said. “Red jackets are usually described as pink. The only riders who wear them regularly are those with at least four or five seasons of experience in the hunt field. And, of course, members of USET who compete in hunt events or are members of an official hunt club will traditionally wear that color. You’ll also see hunting pinks on the British Equestrian Team, because so many more riders over there learn how to ride the open hunt course. I’m surethe three of them competed in the open hunt event—where they ride a course with obstacles like a brush jump or a ditch. Look, you can see the special patches they wear on the jacket to show the country of their team.”
“Okay, knock it off, Professor,” said Stevie, laughing. “Everyone knows red jackets are called pink, and everyone also knows who gets to wear them.” Carole stopped lecturing and smiled sheepishly. She knew she had a tendency to get carried away.
After hearing Carole’s little speech, Lisa felt a sinking feeling. Now she really couldn’t admit her purchase
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