Authors: Bonnie Bryant
“She’s my horse!” Stevie exclaimed. “What is this girl talking about?”
Her father looked back down at the letter. “Mr. Webber has assured me that there will be no need to involve the police if you simply return the horse to Chelsea.”
“But—but—” Stevie spluttered, her face growing red. “I didn’t steal her!”
“We know that, dear,” Mrs. Lake said soothingly. “We know very well that you didn’t do it.”
“Just calm down, honey,” Mr. Lake told Stevie, who was gripping the edge of the table so hard her knuckles were white. “Of course you had nothing to do with Punk’s abduction—even if she and No-Name are the same horse, which hasn’t been proven yet.”
“That’s right,” agreed Mrs. Lake.
“In the meantime, your mother and I will do everything we can to get this issue settled as soon as possible,” Mr. Lake assured his daughter.
Stevie’s stomach tightened into a knot. She had the feeling that she was trapped in some kind of horrible nightmare. But when she pinched herself—hard—nothing happened. The only bit of consolation she could find was the fact that both her parents were lawyers. They dealt with this kind of thing every day. Surely they could stop the Webbers from going any further.
Suddenly another horrible possibility occurred to her. “What if this—this Chelsea person—goes and takes No-Name back?” she asked.
“Now that
would
be stealing,” Mrs. Lake told her. “Until it’s proven beyond a reasonable doubt that No-Name is Punk, the Webbers have no legal right to do that. No-Name is yours until proven otherwise.”
“You mean if it’s proven that she’s the same horse, that girl will get her back?” Stevie asked, more horrified than ever.
Her parents exchanged a glance.
“Well, yes,” Mrs. Lake admitted. “If they proved their case, by law, the horse would still be theirs. But that’s a pretty big ‘if’ at this point.”
“We have had no reason to believe up until this time that No-Name was ever stolen from anyone,” Mr. Lake added. “The Webbers will need real, substantial proof. A
lot of horses look alike, but that’s not enough to prove they’re the same horse.”
Mrs. Lake nodded. “It’ll be pretty tough for them to prove that No-Name is theirs, honey. Let’s try not to worry until we know there’s real cause for alarm.” She grinned. “In the meantime you should be more concerned about the consequences of the inkstain incident.”
Mr. Lake and the boys laughed.
“Good move, Stevie,” Michael said.
But Stevie didn’t have the heart to join in her family’s laughter. Instead she rested her head in her hands. Her mind was spinning. A few minutes ago she had been perfectly happy, thinking about how well she and No-Name got along together, and how perfectly they were matched. And now she didn’t know if she would ever ride her again!
Since Stevie had begun riding years ago, she’d been on the backs of a lot of horses and loved each and every one of them. But none of them, not even Topside, the Thoroughbred gelding at Pine Hollow whom Stevie adored, came close to No-Name in her heart. No-Name was special and she belonged to Stevie.
Stevie would never accept that No-Name was owned by someone else—even if it turned out to be true. She and the mare were destined to be together—forever. No law could ever change that.
W
HEN
S
TEVIE
ARRIVED
at Pine Hollow the next afternoon, she headed straight for No-Name’s stall. Lisa and Carole found her there a few minutes later, talking softly to the mare. After dinner the night before, Stevie had called Carole and Lisa on three-way calling to tell them about the letter from Chelsea Webber’s father. Then she had called Phil, then Carole again, then Lisa again, then Carole and Lisa together.
“There you are, Stevie,” Carole cried, letting herself into the stall. She gave Stevie a hug. Next she gave No-Name a hug. The horse tossed her head and snorted, then started nibbling on Carole’s curly black hair. “I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about you and No-Name!”
“Me either,” Lisa chimed in.
“Thanks, guys,” Stevie replied. She opened the door and the three friends left the stall. “I almost wish I’d had the same problem. I kept having all these horrible dreams about being on the witness stand with dozens of lawyers shouting questions at me about No-Name.” She shuddered. “In the end they all started accusing me of stealing her. Then the jury declared me guilty of ‘grand theft, horse.’ ”
“Really? That’s terrible,” Lisa said.
“You’re not kidding,” Stevie said. “Hey, you guys were there, too. You were sitting with my parents in the audience.”
“If your parents were watching, who was your lawyer?” Carole asked.
Stevie frowned. “Actually, I think it was Simon Atherton.”
Her friends laughed. “No wonder you lost the case,” Carole said. Simon was in the girls’ riding class, but he wasn’t a very good rider. He was enthusiastic about riding—and just about everything else—but that never quite seemed to help him get any better at it.
Stevie nodded thoughtfully. “Some of the people from Pine Hollow were in the jury, too,” she said. “Meg and Betsy and Veronica and Adam and … I forget who else.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe they decided against me! They betrayed me!”
“Stevie, it
was
just a dream,” Carole reminded her with a smile. Then her smile faded. “I can’t believe the rest of it
isn’t a dream, too. Or a nightmare. I can’t believe anyone would try to take your horse away.”
Lisa nodded. “Me, neither. How are you holding up, Stevie?”
“I’m okay,” Stevie said. “But I wish I’d never gone to that rally last weekend and bumped into Chelsea Webber. All of this would have never happened. I mean, obviously No-Name is my horse, not hers. It’s all just a big mistake. So why does she have to drag me into her problems?”
Lisa shrugged. “You’re right. You and No-Name were made for each other.”
As if to prove Lisa’s point, No-Name reached over the half door of her stall and grabbed at Carole’s hair again. Then she swung her head around to nuzzle Stevie, as if to ask what she was doing out in the aisle.
Carole laughed. “See? Even No-Name agrees.”
Just then Veronica came hurrying over. “Ready to get started?” she asked.
The others exchanged glances. Stevie took a deep breath. She knew there was no way she’d be able to keep Veronica from guessing that something was going on. She might as well just tell her about it. “Veronica, something happened last night,” she said, and proceeded to tell Veronica the whole story—the phone call, Chelsea’s stolen horse, the reward, and the Webbers’ request that Stevie hand over No-Name to them.
When she finished, Veronica frowned and shook her
head. “I can’t believe it,” she declared. “That Chelsea Webber is obviously a low-life rat.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Stevie said, feeling more friendly toward Veronica than she ever had before. After all, wasn’t that what friends did—stick up for one another? Stevie almost smiled in spite of herself. She couldn’t believe she was thinking of Veronica diAngelo as a friend. But right now the only enemy in her life was Chelsea Webber.
“Anyway, Stevie, I can really sympathize,” Veronica went on. “After all, you and I have a special kinship now.”
“You do?” Carole asked a little skeptically. “What exactly is that?”
“We both own Arabian mares,” Veronica replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, Stevie’s horse isn’t a purebred like Garnet, but she must be at least half Arabian and that’s pretty good.”
Carole rolled her eyes, but Stevie still felt warmly toward the other girl. “I guess,” she said.
“Anyway,” Veronica went on, “this Chelsea Webber girl is obviously insecure—or maybe she’s just stupid. In any case, she certainly doesn’t have any class. You should just ignore her, Stevie. Your parents are lawyers, aren’t they? They should be able to deal with this in no time.”
“Right,” Stevie said, feeling a little better about the whole situation. Veronica was right. Stevie had nothing to worry about. Her parents would take care of everything.
Lisa glanced at her watch. “Come on,” she said. “We’d better get started if we want to get any practicing done today.” The others knew she was right, so they hurried off in different directions to get ready.
A few minutes later they reconvened in the outdoor ring and began practicing mounting and unmounting quickly. That skill was particularly important in relay races, since about half the races at most rallies required riders to get out of the saddle as part of the race. It was a skill that came easier to younger and smaller riders, because most of them rode ponies. A pony was defined as a horse under 14.2 hands in height. That meant riders on ponies had an advantage getting into and out of the saddle because they started out closer to the ground.
As Stevie was flinging herself into No-Name’s saddle for about the tenth time, she noticed some movement outside the fence. When she was settled comfortably on No-Name’s back she glanced over, thinking that Max or Mrs. Reg or Max’s fiancée, Deborah Hale, must have come over to watch their practice. But when she saw who was standing by the fence, she let out a gasp. Suddenly she started breathing faster, feeling as if she’d just been punched in the stomach.
“Carole—Lisa—” she stammered. “L-look over there!”
Her friends looked. When they saw what Stevie had seen, they gasped, too. They both recognized the blond girl standing by the fence. It was Chelsea Webber!
“What’s she doing here?” Stevie demanded loudly, glaring at the blond girl “Why is she watching me?”
“I don’t know,” Lisa said. She put a protective hand on Stevie’s arm. “But we won’t let her get near you—or No-Name.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Veronica asked, trotting over. She followed the direction of the others’ gaze, and her eyes narrowed. “Oh,” she said slowly. “That’s her, isn’t it?”
“It sure is,” Stevie replied. She stared at Chelsea, but Chelsea didn’t meet her eye. Instead, she stared at No-Name, a hint of a smile on her face. It was as if the other girls weren’t even there.
“I wonder what she’s doing here?” Carole muttered angrily. “She’s caused enough trouble already with her stupid accusations.”
Stevie was embarrassed to realize that her hands had started shaking uncontrollably. Suddenly all she wanted was to get away from the blond girl’s intense gaze. She didn’t want Chelsea Webber staring at her horse anymore. “Can we get out of here?” she asked weakly.
Her friends understood immediately. “I think I’m suddenly in the mood for a nice long trail ride,” Carole declared. “How about you, Lisa?”
Lisa nodded. “Let’s go,” she said grimly. “Coming, Veronica?”
“You guys go ahead,” Veronica said, her gaze still trained
on Chelsea. “I have a few things to say to that girl first. I’ll catch up to you in a minute.”
Stevie didn’t need to be told twice. She rode over to the gate, being careful not to look at Chelsea, who was standing only a few feet away. Stevie tried not to notice that her horse glanced at the blond girl and snorted. Carole dismounted and opened the gate so that Stevie could ride through. As soon as Stevie was outside, she urged No-Name into a canter and rode until she was in the middle of the next field, where she slowed and waited for her friends to catch up.
A short time later the three girls were entering the cool, dim woods beyond the fields, and Stevie had calmed down a little. “You know where I’d like to go right now?” she said.
“The place by the creek?” Lisa guessed immediately.
Stevie nodded. Even though the weather was too cold for wading, the cool spot by Willow Creek, the stream that had given the girls’ hometown its name, was the most soothing spot any of them knew.
They reached the spot in a matter of minutes, dismounted, and sat down on the bank of the stream. For a while they just sat in silence, watching the cool water tumble past.
Then Stevie blew her breath out in a loud, angry sigh. “I can’t believe she had the nerve to show up here,” she said. “I mean, isn’t it bad enough that she’s causing all
this trouble without her coming and rubbing it in in person?”
“I know,” Lisa agreed. “It really is pretty rotten of her. I wonder what she wants.”
“Have your parents checked with Mr. Baker about where he got No-Name?” Carole asked.
“They were going to call him today,” Stevie said. “I guess I’ll find out what he said when I get home.”
“I still can’t believe anyone could think No-Name might belong to someone else,” Carole said softly. “She’s so perfect for you.”
Stevie nodded and rested her chin on her hand. “I know.”
“Maybe there’s something we can do,” Carole suggested. “Something to prove that it’s totally impossible that No-Name could be that girl’s horse. Or maybe we could figure out what her motives are for wanting her.”
“Good idea,” Stevie said, sitting up straight. “She probably has some nasty plot up her sleeve. I’m sure we could find out where she lives—then we could spy on her and try to figure it out!” Stevie rubbed her hands together. “Either that, or we could interview people she knows—you know, her teachers, classmates, that kind of thing. Maybe we’ll find out she’s a dangerous psycho with a history of mental instability.”