Blue Ribbon Summer (7 page)

Just then Robin walked by, leading a horse. “I see you've met Felicia,” she told Brooke. “She's our part-time barn worker and she knows how everything works around here. So if you have a question and can't find me, she's a good person to ask.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Brooke shot Felicia a shy smile. Was it weird that she already felt as if she had more in common with the barn worker than with the other campers? Pushing that thought aside, she hurried to the feed room to get Foxy's grain.

After the horses were fed and the stalls cleaned, the girls headed inside for their own breakfast. Robin's house managed to seem spacious and cozy at the same time, with comfortably elegant furnishings and lots of nooks and crannies filled with interesting things—antiques, books, knickknacks, framed photographs of horses and people. The sunny dining room had a hunt theme, with paintings and figurines of foxes and hounds everywhere Brooke looked. Several large windows overlooked one of the pastures.

“Over here,” Paige said, pulling Brooke toward one end of the long mahogany table. The older campers were already sitting at the other end.

“Good morning, everyone,” Robin said, taking a seat in the middle. She set a sheaf of papers in front of her. “Welcome to another year at Camp Pocomoke.”

A cheer went up from both ends of the table. Paige added a loud whoop that made the others giggle.

“Now, I know most of you know the deal,” Robin went on. “But we have a couple of new campers this year.”

“Kayley isn't really new,” protested one of the older campers, shoving a rosy-cheeked blond girl with her shoulder. “She just skipped last year, that's all.”

“Nevertheless,” Robin said. “I want to go over the basics. Even some of our more experienced campers might have forgotten a few things over the winter.”

“She's talking about you, Livi,” Hannah said in a loud stage whisper. Everyone laughed, including Livi. Brooke smiled along, even though she wasn't sure why that was funny.

“All right.” Robin smiled. “Now, as usual, you're
divided into older and younger groups. You'll be together at mealtimes and for some non-riding activities, but separate for your riding and horsemanship lessons.”

The other girls were all nodding along, looking slightly bored. Robin continued.

“As most of you know, my daughter Morgan won't be a counselor this year,” she said. “She moved to New York City right after her college graduation last month, and she can't take time away from her new job.”

There was a general murmur of disappointment. Robin paused and looked down for a moment, shuffling through the papers in front of her. Was that a look of sadness on her face? Brooke felt a flash of curiosity, but shrugged it off. Of course it made sense that Robin was sad—her daughter had recently moved away from home.

“Now, I've hired a local girl to help out in Morgan's place,” Robin went on. “Her name is Abby, and I think you'll all like her. Preston will be coming in a couple of days to help out as well.”

Paige leaned toward Brooke. “That's Robin's boyfriend,” she whispered. “He's, like, some kind of superstar
real estate guy or something. His cousin boards here—that's how he and Robin first met.”

“This year's activities should be fun,” Robin said. “As usual, one of the neighboring estates has graciously agreed to let us use their tennis courts and pool, and we'll also be setting up a visit to the local golf course for anyone who's interested. Abby mentioned volleyball and kickball as well, but I'll let her tell you about that when she arrives in a few minutes.”

Brooke couldn't help being alarmed. She'd thought this camp was all about riding. She wasn't very interested in most other sports—not like Maddie the soccer freak, or Nina, who'd taken dance since she was little, or even Haley, who went hiking and camping and fishing and cross-country skiing with her family all the time.

Thinking of her Pony Post friends made Brooke feel wistful. If they were here with her, she'd be much more excited to try all those new things. She was sure the four of them would have a blast—and so would their ponies.
Maybe they'd even be able to ride out and find a deserted stretch of beach where they could pretend to be riding wild ponies on Assateague. . . .

Realizing that Robin was still talking, Brooke tuned back in: “. . . and I hope you'll all have fun and improve your riding and general horsemanship. As always, we'll be able to see just how much you've learned at our annual end-of-camp horse show.”

Once again, several of the other campers cheered. Robin smiled.

“Olders, Abby will take you for a quick swim as soon as she gets here, so go get changed. Youngers, you're with me—your first riding lesson starts in twenty minutes. I want to see what kind of progress you've all made since last summer.” Glancing at Brooke, she added, “And of course, I'll want to evaluate our new pair.”

Brooke felt a nervous shiver run through her. She and Foxy had never been “evaluated” before. She wasn't even quite sure what that meant.

“Now get to the barn and start grooming and tacking
up,” Robin finished. “I'll expect you in the ring in”—she paused and checked her watch—“nineteen and a half minutes.”

“More inside leg, Brooke!” Robin called as Brooke and Foxy rounded the short end of the ring. “You need to ask her to bend through the turn, but you can't do it all with your reins.”

“Sorry.” Brooke felt flustered as she tried to do what Robin was asking. “Um, we haven't really practiced that kind of thing much yet.”

So far her first riding lesson at Camp Pocomoke wasn't going very well. It was pretty obvious that the other girls' horses were much better trained than Foxy, and the girls themselves much better trained than Brooke.

“Everyone, let's halt and talk about this,” Robin called out.

The other three riders came to the middle. Brooke felt short beside their horses. All of them were at least a hand taller than Foxy. Hannah's horse, Vegas, a handsome chestnut warmblood, was a full seventeen hands!

“Now let's discuss bending and why we do it,” Robin began. “When we ask a horse to use its body properly . . .”

She went on for a while, occasionally asking questions that the other girls answered easily. Brooke listened, trying to take it all in, but she couldn't help feeling self-conscious and distracted. It was obvious that she and Foxy didn't belong here any more than Ethan and Emma belonged in a college philosophy class, and everyone knew it. Brooke guessed that Robin hadn't planned to cover such basic material during this lesson. The other girls didn't say anything about it, but Brooke was pretty sure she caught them exchanging meaningful glances a few times.

By the end of the lesson, all she wanted was to get away and figure out how she was going to survive two weeks of this. She untacked Foxy quickly and snapped a lead rope on her halter.

“Is it okay if I take Foxy out to graze for a few minutes?” she asked Robin.

“Sure, go ahead,” Robin said.

Paige looked up from picking her horse's hoof. “I'll come too,” she said. “Snow loves hand grazing.”

Brooke's heart sank. So much for being alone! She forced a smile. “Okay.”

Soon both girls were watching their horses nibble grass behind the barn. Paige leaned against her mare's shoulder and gave Brooke a sidelong look.

“Robin can be tough, but she really knows her stuff,” she said. “You'll be surprised how fast you and Foxy will learn.”

“Okay.” Brooke didn't meet her eye.

Paige was silent for a moment. Then she cleared her throat. “So I know you said you don't show, and I noticed you only brought that schooling helmet. If you want, you can borrow my spare helmet for the show at the end of camp.”

Brooke's free hand flew to her head. She'd been in such a hurry to get away that she'd forgotten to take off her helmet, which had been a ninth-birthday gift from her mother. After three years of nearly daily wear, it looked slightly threadbare, though Brooke hadn't really realized it until that moment.

“What's wrong with my helmet?” she snapped.

Paige looked worried. “Um, nothing. It's just that most people don't wear that kind for showing these days, and I thought you'd want to fit in, so . . .”

Suddenly Brooke couldn't take any more. “I have to
go,” she choked out, willing herself not to start crying in front of the other girl. She grabbed a chunk of Foxy's mane and vaulted onto her back.

The pony lifted her head from the grass, startled. “Hey,” Paige said. “What are you doing?”

“Just going for a ride.” Brooke gave Foxy a kick, and the pony jumped into a trot. Using her legs and a couple of tugs on the lead rope, Brooke sent her down a lane leading off between two large pastures. Paige called her name a couple of times, but Brooke didn't look back.

She felt better once the barn was out of sight behind her. Letting Foxy slow to a walk, Brooke glanced around. They were passing the far edge of Robin's largest pasture. Beyond that lay a tangle of scrubby brush with colorful birds flitting around. Off to the left was a farm field—soybeans, like the place across the road from Brooke's house. On the far side of the field was forest.

“This is more like it,” Brooke murmured, causing Foxy to flick an ear back briefly. “We might not know how to bend properly in the ring or jump big fences or do fancy dressage moves. But who needs that stuff, anyway?”

The farther they got from Pocomoke Stables, the more relaxed she felt. After skirting the soybean field, Brooke found a winding trail leading into the woods. Not long after that, the trees thinned out and she heard the distant sound of crying gulls and breaking waves.

“Sounds like we found the Sound,” she told Foxy. They kept going and soon crested a sandy hill overlooking a dirt road that ran parallel to the woods. On the other side of the road, a slope covered in wild grasses led down to the rocky shoreline. Brooke sat back and tightened her seat and Foxy halted. For a moment they both surveyed the beautiful, wild scene. A shorebird flew up in a flurry of wings while the gulls Brooke had heard earlier wheeled and shrieked far overhead. A sailboat skidded by in the distance, looking like something on a postcard.

Brooke squeezed lightly, and Foxy picked her way down the slope, pushing through the marshy grasses. Brooke sucked in a deep breath of briny air, imagining that this must be what it was like to ride along the wild shores of Assateague Island. . . .

“Hey!” A sharp voice broke into her reverie.

Brooke jumped, then realized Foxy already must have noticed that they weren't alone. The pony was staring, ears pricked, at a pair of people picking their way across the rocks nearby. In the lead was an elderly woman with a cane, dressed in a shabby cotton sweater and orthopedic shoes. Right behind her was a teenage girl dressed in normal shorts and a T-shirt.

“Miss Alice, slow down!” the girl called. “You'll kill yourself on those rocks!”

The old woman ignored her. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, waving her cane at Brooke. “This is private property. You're trespassing!”

“S-sorry.” Brooke tightened her grip on Foxy's mane as the pony took a step backward, eyeing the woman and her cane warily.

“Sorry doesn't pay the mortgage!” the old woman snapped, her watery blue eyes flashing with fury.

By now the teenage girl had caught up. “Leave her alone, okay?” she said. Glancing up at Brooke, she rolled her eyes. “Sorry. She thinks everyone is a developer sneaking
around, trying to steal her land.” She poked the old woman on the shoulder. “She's just a girl on a pony, okay? No need to call the police.”

“I'm really sorry,” Brooke said again. “I didn't know we were trespassing.”

“It's no biggie,” the girl said. “Your pony's cute. Is she a Welsh cross or what?”

“No, she's a Chincoteague pony,” Brooke said.

“Harrumph. Chincoteague, eh?” The old woman cast a curious glance at Foxy, then turned away. “Don't let me catch you here again, girl.”

“You won't. I'm sorry.” Brooke turned Foxy around and rode as quickly as she could back the way they'd come, not daring to look back.