didn’t notice. A briar ripped at her sweater. She didn’t care. For a second, she thought that she heard Phil call her name.
“Better than I am? No way!” she said to herself. “Better than Carole? Out of the question!” She continued talking as she stormed through the forest.
The woods were unfamiliar, but she remembered that the campsite was in a valley and that she and Phil had been walking uphill all the way. In just a few minutes, she came upon the flickering flames of the campsite. Unnoticed, she slipped into the tent she shared with Carole and Lisa. She put on her pajamas and climbed into her sleeping bag. She was still too angry to sleep, though.
Outside, beyond the canvas walls of her tent, she could hear her friends talking.
“… And then the werehorse said to the vampmare, ‘Don’t worry, my bark is worse than my bite.’ And the vampmare replied, That’s funny—mine isn’t!’ ” There were giggles and laughter. Stevie didn’t laugh. Right then, nothing was funny, exceptmaybe the idea that Phil-the-super-duper-rider who thought he could take all the prizes might, just might, get lost in the woods.
And
that
was a comforting notion to go to sleep by, Stevie thought, drifting off at last.
“D O I DETECT trouble in paradise?” Lisa asked Stevie as casually as she could manage. She was riding next to Stevie as the campers returned to Moose Hill and for the first time in days, Phil was not in sight.
“Why would you say that?” Stevie retorted.
“Maybe it has something to do with the stony look on your face,” Carole said. “Which, I might add, perfectly matches the one on a certain guy’s, although you might not know it, since you haven’t looked at him all day.”
“Who?” Stevie asked innocently. Her friends got the message.
“Well, well!” Lisa said lightly. “Looks like the old Stevie is back!”
Stevie just glared. It was clear that she wasn’t up forany teasing. Lisa and Carole decided to leave her alone.
For Lisa, it was a little sad to be returning to Moose Hill. She’d had a wonderful time on the trip, enjoying every minute of it and learning every minute of it, too, thanks to Carole.
“Since we missed jump class again today,” Lisa said, “would you be able to work with me on the cavalettis and low jumps during free time this evening?”
“Oh, sure,” Carole replied enthusiastically. She was as glad for an opportunity to teach as Lisa was eager for one to learn. “You know, I think you’ll have a good shot at earning a ribbon in the Beginning Jumper category at the show. Don’t you agree, Stevie?” Carole asked.
“I don’t want to talk about the show,” Stevie grumbled.
Carole and Lisa were surprised. Whatever it was that was wrong with Stevie, it wasn’t just Phil. And it was clear that until Stevie got into a talking mood, they weren’t going to learn a thing. In the meantime, the best thing to do was to stay out of her way.
L ISA HAD HAD a vague hope that the enjoyable time the campers had shared at the campsite, with the mounted games and the silly ghost stories, might improve the general attitude around camp and make achange in the way campers took care of their horses when they returned to camp. She was wrong.
The horses had no sooner reached the barn than the campers were nearly shoving one another aside to find the best untacking position, which was nearest the tack room and required the shortest walk carrying tack. Everybody seemed grumpy and selfish. Nobody wanted to do their own work, much less help others. It wasn’t the way riding should be, Lisa thought angrily. Friends helped one another and had fun working together. At least that was what she had found in The Saddle Club. So why couldn’t everybody see that? Why couldn’t everybody cooperate?
The whole operation was complicated by the fact that the farrier was coming in the morning. Barry had made an announcement about it. Most horses needed new shoes about once a month. A
“Better than I am? No way!” she said to herself. “Better than Carole? Out of the question!” She continued talking as she stormed through the forest.
The woods were unfamiliar, but she remembered that the campsite was in a valley and that she and Phil had been walking uphill all the way. In just a few minutes, she came upon the flickering flames of the campsite. Unnoticed, she slipped into the tent she shared with Carole and Lisa. She put on her pajamas and climbed into her sleeping bag. She was still too angry to sleep, though.
Outside, beyond the canvas walls of her tent, she could hear her friends talking.
“… And then the werehorse said to the vampmare, ‘Don’t worry, my bark is worse than my bite.’ And the vampmare replied, That’s funny—mine isn’t!’ ” There were giggles and laughter. Stevie didn’t laugh. Right then, nothing was funny, exceptmaybe the idea that Phil-the-super-duper-rider who thought he could take all the prizes might, just might, get lost in the woods.
And
that
was a comforting notion to go to sleep by, Stevie thought, drifting off at last.
“D O I DETECT trouble in paradise?” Lisa asked Stevie as casually as she could manage. She was riding next to Stevie as the campers returned to Moose Hill and for the first time in days, Phil was not in sight.
“Why would you say that?” Stevie retorted.
“Maybe it has something to do with the stony look on your face,” Carole said. “Which, I might add, perfectly matches the one on a certain guy’s, although you might not know it, since you haven’t looked at him all day.”
“Who?” Stevie asked innocently. Her friends got the message.
“Well, well!” Lisa said lightly. “Looks like the old Stevie is back!”
Stevie just glared. It was clear that she wasn’t up forany teasing. Lisa and Carole decided to leave her alone.
For Lisa, it was a little sad to be returning to Moose Hill. She’d had a wonderful time on the trip, enjoying every minute of it and learning every minute of it, too, thanks to Carole.
“Since we missed jump class again today,” Lisa said, “would you be able to work with me on the cavalettis and low jumps during free time this evening?”
“Oh, sure,” Carole replied enthusiastically. She was as glad for an opportunity to teach as Lisa was eager for one to learn. “You know, I think you’ll have a good shot at earning a ribbon in the Beginning Jumper category at the show. Don’t you agree, Stevie?” Carole asked.
“I don’t want to talk about the show,” Stevie grumbled.
Carole and Lisa were surprised. Whatever it was that was wrong with Stevie, it wasn’t just Phil. And it was clear that until Stevie got into a talking mood, they weren’t going to learn a thing. In the meantime, the best thing to do was to stay out of her way.
L ISA HAD HAD a vague hope that the enjoyable time the campers had shared at the campsite, with the mounted games and the silly ghost stories, might improve the general attitude around camp and make achange in the way campers took care of their horses when they returned to camp. She was wrong.
The horses had no sooner reached the barn than the campers were nearly shoving one another aside to find the best untacking position, which was nearest the tack room and required the shortest walk carrying tack. Everybody seemed grumpy and selfish. Nobody wanted to do their own work, much less help others. It wasn’t the way riding should be, Lisa thought angrily. Friends helped one another and had fun working together. At least that was what she had found in The Saddle Club. So why couldn’t everybody see that? Why couldn’t everybody cooperate?
The whole operation was complicated by the fact that the farrier was coming in the morning. Barry had made an announcement about it. Most horses needed new shoes about once a month. A
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