matter whether they worked or not, it was one of the reasons Carole like her so much.
They passed the point where Patch had bolted. Soon after that, the trail crossed the meadow. The three girls sat down in their saddles while their horses continued trotting and then touched the horses behind their girths on one side. Soon the horses were cantering, the wonderful rocking-horse gait. Carole sat deeply into the saddle, moving forward and back with the horse’s motions. She loved almost everythingabout riding, but it was hard to think of anything more fun than cantering gently across an open field on a graceful horse like Diablo, with the bright, warm sunshine beaming down from above. The tangy smell of the hay in the meadow blended perfectly with the rich smell of horses and leather. Carole was content.
When they had crossed the meadow, the girls drew the horses to a walk so they could cool down for the last ten minutes of the ride until they reached the creek.
“Okay, lunchtime!” Carole announced, dismounting. “For the horses, of course.”
The Saddle Club knew the horses came first. There would be plenty of time for the girls to eat and relax once they had tended to the horses.
The girls loosened the girths and put halters over the horses’ bridles so they could snap lead ropes onto them. In spite of cowboys who tied their horses’ reins to hitching posts in movies, The Saddle Club knew that it was very bad for the horse, and the reins, to use them that way. The girls led the horses to the creek and let them have a cooling drink, but not too much. A whole lot of cold water in a horse’s stomach on a hot day could lead to digestive problems very quickly. When the horses were refreshed, the girls tied them up where they could reach sweet, fresh grass for snacking. After the horses were tended, it was the girls’ turn to rest.
“Last one in is a rotten egg,” Stevie said, removing her boots. She rolled up her pants legs and then sat on a big flat rock that bordered the creek. She dangled her feet in the water. “Heaven,” she announced. Carole and Lisa quickly followed suit.
Lisa hauled out the sandwiches and juice and passed them around.
“It’s so nice out today that even a peanut-butter sandwich tastes like a feast.”
“Well, today’s sure a lot better than Saturday,” Carole told her friends.
“What happened Saturday?” Lisa asked her. She and Stevie had been so involved in their own disastrous day as models that it hadn’t even occurred to her to wonder what Carole had been up to.
“I went shopping for a dress,” Carole said, as if that were an explanation.
“I
love
shopping,” Stevie said.
“Me, too,” Lisa piped in. “Unless my mother’s with me. Then what she does is to practically lock me in a dressing room and bombard me with the most hideous dresses.”
“Tell me about it,” Carole said, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, there was this one that she kept on about once. It made me look about eight years old!”
“Did it have tons of little roses?” Carole asked.
“No. Balloons,” Lisa told her.
Carole gulped. Maybe Lynne wasn’s so bad after all!
“What was so awful about shopping Saturday?” Stevie asked.
“Well, I had to go with Lynne Blessing. You know, the woman my dad’s been dating? She tries to be nice to me, but she just doesn’t get it. It was just exactly what Lisa described. It was like she was trying to make me into something I’m not. I try to be nice to her, because she’s Dad’s friend, but it gets hard sometimes.”
“Sounds like a mother,” Lisa remarked. “She’s always trying to make me into something I’m not, too.”
“I had a mother,” Carole said. “She was terrific. I even used to like to go shopping with her. It wasn’t at all the way it was with Lynne.” Carole described Lynne’s actions, her overbearing enthusiasm about Carole’s outfit, and the dance Carole had been “persuaded” to attend.
While Carole completed her
They passed the point where Patch had bolted. Soon after that, the trail crossed the meadow. The three girls sat down in their saddles while their horses continued trotting and then touched the horses behind their girths on one side. Soon the horses were cantering, the wonderful rocking-horse gait. Carole sat deeply into the saddle, moving forward and back with the horse’s motions. She loved almost everythingabout riding, but it was hard to think of anything more fun than cantering gently across an open field on a graceful horse like Diablo, with the bright, warm sunshine beaming down from above. The tangy smell of the hay in the meadow blended perfectly with the rich smell of horses and leather. Carole was content.
When they had crossed the meadow, the girls drew the horses to a walk so they could cool down for the last ten minutes of the ride until they reached the creek.
“Okay, lunchtime!” Carole announced, dismounting. “For the horses, of course.”
The Saddle Club knew the horses came first. There would be plenty of time for the girls to eat and relax once they had tended to the horses.
The girls loosened the girths and put halters over the horses’ bridles so they could snap lead ropes onto them. In spite of cowboys who tied their horses’ reins to hitching posts in movies, The Saddle Club knew that it was very bad for the horse, and the reins, to use them that way. The girls led the horses to the creek and let them have a cooling drink, but not too much. A whole lot of cold water in a horse’s stomach on a hot day could lead to digestive problems very quickly. When the horses were refreshed, the girls tied them up where they could reach sweet, fresh grass for snacking. After the horses were tended, it was the girls’ turn to rest.
“Last one in is a rotten egg,” Stevie said, removing her boots. She rolled up her pants legs and then sat on a big flat rock that bordered the creek. She dangled her feet in the water. “Heaven,” she announced. Carole and Lisa quickly followed suit.
Lisa hauled out the sandwiches and juice and passed them around.
“It’s so nice out today that even a peanut-butter sandwich tastes like a feast.”
“Well, today’s sure a lot better than Saturday,” Carole told her friends.
“What happened Saturday?” Lisa asked her. She and Stevie had been so involved in their own disastrous day as models that it hadn’t even occurred to her to wonder what Carole had been up to.
“I went shopping for a dress,” Carole said, as if that were an explanation.
“I
love
shopping,” Stevie said.
“Me, too,” Lisa piped in. “Unless my mother’s with me. Then what she does is to practically lock me in a dressing room and bombard me with the most hideous dresses.”
“Tell me about it,” Carole said, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, there was this one that she kept on about once. It made me look about eight years old!”
“Did it have tons of little roses?” Carole asked.
“No. Balloons,” Lisa told her.
Carole gulped. Maybe Lynne wasn’s so bad after all!
“What was so awful about shopping Saturday?” Stevie asked.
“Well, I had to go with Lynne Blessing. You know, the woman my dad’s been dating? She tries to be nice to me, but she just doesn’t get it. It was just exactly what Lisa described. It was like she was trying to make me into something I’m not. I try to be nice to her, because she’s Dad’s friend, but it gets hard sometimes.”
“Sounds like a mother,” Lisa remarked. “She’s always trying to make me into something I’m not, too.”
“I had a mother,” Carole said. “She was terrific. I even used to like to go shopping with her. It wasn’t at all the way it was with Lynne.” Carole described Lynne’s actions, her overbearing enthusiasm about Carole’s outfit, and the dance Carole had been “persuaded” to attend.
While Carole completed her
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