Horse Feathers (13 page)

The following Tuesday, Stevie appeared at the barn with her goslings for her regular lesson. Max had scheduled an intermediate lesson for the more advanced students to give the younger students a chance to try some vaulting on Clara.

As had become their daily ritual, Stevie helped the goslings into the water trough. “You guys stay here while I go get Belle.”

Stevie needn’t have worried. The goslings had become accustomed to the trough and didn’t even seem to notice when Stevie ran to get Belle. She quickly tacked up and joined the lesson, which was just beginning in the grass paddock. In the ring next to them, Red was longeing Clara and working on very basic moves, such as riding bareback while holding on to the vaulting handles, with a few of the younger riders.

Stevie took a last quick peek at her goslings, still paddling around the water trough, then got down to work, following Max’s instructions as they began the class. They were performing serpentines at the trot and canter without stirrups—an exercise aimed at increasing their balance and suppleness in their lower backs, which would help improve their vaulting abilities.

Midway through the class, Stevie glanced over at the water trough and noticed that the goslings had become distracted and stopped paddling. The focus of their attention seemed to be on Clara and the young vaulters. Despite Number One’s best efforts to keep the group organized, Number Three, ignoring the quacks of Number One, climbed out of the trough and waddled over to the outdoor ring. Number Three perched himself just under the fence for a better view of the entertainment. Much to Stevie’s surprise, the other goslings followed.

That’s got to be a good sign
, Stevie thought hopefully. It was the first time she could think of that the goslings had made an attempt to go anywhere on their own that wasn’t just to find her. But before the group could enjoy their freedom, Number One rounded them up and herded them back to the trough, honking angrily at Number Three the entire way. Still, thought
Stevie, it was a clear and welcome sign that the goslings were developing some independence.

O
N
S
ATURDAY THE
girls took part in another vaulting lesson. It was their last scheduled session before the competition, which was to take place the following weekend. Once again, Stevie walked the goslings down to the pond for their daily swim. When she was sure that they were too caught up in their playtime to notice her disappearance, she slipped away and joined the class in the outdoor ring.

“So I wonder where Veronica is,” Lisa commented, glancing around as they waited for Max to begin the class.

“I haven’t seen her all week,” answered Carole.

“Unfortunately, that probably means she’s been busy practicing with her private coach,” guessed Stevie.

“Let’s get started,” Max called out, waving his hand for the riders to come forward. “Since this is your last lesson before the competition, I want to see everyone giving it their all.”

One by one, the girls took their turn on Clara.

Stevie tried really hard, but the best she could manage was to maintain the Stand on Clara for a couple of
canter circles without falling off. She considered it a success of sorts, especially since she hadn’t had much time to practice. But it certainly wouldn’t be enough to compete against Veronica.

Carole managed to maintain both the Flag and the Mill at the canter, and Lisa was able to do even more than that. She’d finally gotten the feel for the Flank and most of the time was able to execute the first part of it without incident. Unfortunately, Stevie guessed that Veronica had already moved on to more difficult moves that she would use for the competition.

The class was just finishing when Stevie heard the indignant honking of Number One, who, finally noticing Stevie’s disappearance, had come out of the pond to look for her. The good news was that it had taken the goslings a lot longer to notice, and instead of panicking, they were now familiar enough with Pine Hollow that they had a pretty good idea of where to find their surrogate mother.

“Hi, guys,” Stevie greeted them warmly.

Number One circled behind the group, honking at Number Eight to keep up. One by one, Stevie helped them into the water trough. It was more out of tradition than necessity, since the goslings were now quite able to get into the trough on their own. But oddly
enough, instead of paddling around in the water, they all lined up against the edge of the trough to stare at Clara, clearly spellbound by the vaulting horse in the nearby outdoor ring. Red was loosening Clara’s surcingle as they finished the lesson.

“I think your goslings have a crush on Clara,” observed Carole.

“Either that,” laughed Lisa, “or they’ve never seen anything so huge in their lives.”

Red walked Clara out of the ring and brought her over to the trough. Much to Stevie’s surprise, the goslings sat quietly while Clara poked her muzzle into the water for a drink. Enraptured, they circled the mare’s large face, their beaks tenderly brushing up against Clara’s hairy cheek. Clara was unfazed. But then, as the girls had discovered over the past month, Clara was unfazed by almost everything. She simply finished her drink and lifted her head out of the trough, water dripping from her chin. The goslings quacked happily, delighted with the mini-shower that Clara was unintentionally providing.

“Look at that!” exclaimed Stevie. “I think they’ve found a new friend.”

“Maybe with Clara here, they’ll want to be here, too,” said Lisa.

“It’s just too bad that Clara’s going home so soon,” Carole reminded them.

Stevie realized that Carole was right. The vaulting competition was coming up next Saturday. Right after that, the riders would be saying good-bye to Clara.

It also reminded Stevie that she was running out of time to get her goslings accustomed to Pine Hollow. Her father had hinted again at breakfast that morning that the goslings would soon be too big to be kept indoors. Stevie watched thoughtfully as Red walked Clara toward the barn. The goslings swam to the edge of the trough and honked until Clara’s large rump disappeared from sight. Then they returned to Stevie, paddling and honking as they tried to get her attention. Stevie stuck her hand into the trough, splashing them playfully with water. She had to figure out a way to make the goslings realize that they belonged at Pine Hollow—before her dad made some other decision for her.

“T
HIS IS SO
exciting. My”—Lisa quickly corrected herself—“
our
first vaulting competition.”

It was Saturday morning, the day of the competition, and Carole and Lisa were getting a ride to Pine Hollow with Stevie and her goslings, which were seated patiently in two large cardboard boxes beside Stevie. The goslings had grown so quickly that they no longer fit into one box.

“Did you remember your tights?” Mrs. Lake asked Stevie, glancing in the rearview mirror as she turned up the drive to Pine Hollow.

“Yup, right here.” Stevie patted a small bag beside her containing the clothes she’d be wearing for the
competition. It was a mix-and-match of gymnastic gear that she’d managed to dig out of her closet.

Mrs. Lake stopped the car in front of the stables and waited while the girls climbed out. Stevie placed the boxes on the ground and tilted them to the side, and the goslings immediately hopped out.

“Thanks, Mom,” said Stevie, shoving the empty boxes into the car.

Mrs. Lake leaned toward the open window. “Call me when you’re ready.”

Stevie nodded.

The girls, followed by the goslings, made their way toward the barn.

“I’ll meet you guys inside. I just need to take the goslings over to the pond,” said Stevie, noticing that the goslings had already turned down the path in the direction of the pond.

At the pond, they immediately dived into the water. Stevie waited a few moments, then quietly sneaked away. She knew the goslings wouldn’t miss her until they became tired of swimming—something that was taking longer each day. She hoped it would take long enough to give her time for the competition.

Back at the barn, Stevie changed into her vaulting outfit and joined Carole and Lisa. Lisa finished braiding
her hair and tucked it out of the way so that it wouldn’t interfere during the competition.

“Even if we don’t win, at least we’ll look good,” said Lisa.

As much as the girls wanted to do well, they were all aware that their chances against the thoroughly trained Veronica were slim.

“We’ll just do our best,” said Carole, “which is what matters most in competition anyway.”

The other girls agreed. Max was always reminding them that winning was less important than doing your best and reaching your personal goals.

“Besides,” added Stevie, “if nothing else, we know a lot more about vaulting now than we did a month ago.”

The girls realized that they had learned quite a bit in a month, especially Lisa.

“With any luck, Veronica’s grown bored with the whole thing and won’t bother showing up,” Lisa said optimistically.

“Uh, guys? Don’t count on it.” Stevie pointed toward the diAngelo’s car, which had just pulled up in front of the stables. The door opened and Veronica climbed out of the backseat.

Carole frowned. “What on earth is she wearing?”

Lisa and Stevie were dumbfounded.

“It looks like a … costume?” speculated Stevie.

Stevie glanced down at her own mismatched wardrobe, then back to Veronica, who was outfitted in a gold-and-black striped unitard, with gold vaulting slippers on her feet.

“So much for Veronica’s losing interest,” grumbled Stevie. As usual, the diAngelos had gone to the fashion extreme on Veronica’s behalf.

“Not only that, but it looks like she brought her coach,” said Lisa.

An older woman, her hair pinned back neatly, also climbed out of the diAngelos’ car and was greeted warmly by Mrs. Welch, Clara’s owner, who had also just arrived.

As the older women made their way toward the barn, Veronica paused in front of The Saddle Club girls.

“Nice outfits, girls,” Veronica commented in her usual condescending tone. “Too bad you couldn’t afford something a little more …” She paused, searching dramatically for the proper word. “… appropriate.” She flashed them a smile before heading into the barn.

“Only Veronica would go out and buy a competition wardrobe for something that’s not even a competition,” Lisa remarked. Then, after a pause, she added, “Why didn’t we think of that?”

“Because, fortunately, we don’t think like she does,”
said Carole. “Come on, guys, it doesn’t matter what she wears or how well she does. What matters is how well
we
do.”

“Carole’s right,” agreed Lisa. “We need to try to forget about Veronica and just concentrate on doing well. In fact, I think it will be fun to be judged by Mrs. Welch.”

“Then we’d better hurry and get warmed up or we’re going to be late,” said Stevie.

While Red longed Clara in a before-class warm-up, Max took everyone through some ground aerobics and stretching exercises. The riders warmed up on the barrel, practicing their vaulting moves, while Mrs. Welch watched.

Mrs. Welch smiled warmly at Stevie as she tried to perform the Flank on the barrel, losing her balance at the last moment and slipping to the mats below. “Next time, Stevie, try to keep your weight centered just behind the surcingle,” Mrs. Welch offered kindly.

Although the girls had been thinking of this as a competition, they also realized that it was a great opportunity for Mrs. Welch to give the new vaulters pointers on their technique. Stevie thanked Mrs. Welch for the advice and hopped back on the barrel to give it another try. Sure enough, this time she held the position.

Max smiled. “Very good, Stevie.”

Stevie hopped off the barrel, noticing as she did so that Veronica was warming up separately from the group, doing stretches with her coach.

“All right, let’s get started.” Max waved everyone over to the outdoor ring, where Red was waiting with Clara.

Mrs. Welch, score pad in hand, entered the ring and stood close enough to judge the vaulters accurately but not so close as to interfere with Clara’s longeing circle. She nodded to Max to indicate that she was ready to start judging the competition.

Before the warm-up, Max had had everyone pick a number out of a hat to determine in what order they would compete. Veronica and The Saddle Club girls had drawn numbers near the end of the class, with Stevie being the last rider to compete. Stevie only hoped that the goslings wouldn’t notice her disappearance before then.

“Since we’re pretending that this is a competition,” began Mrs. Welch, “I’ll ask you to perform as many of the compulsory vaulting positions as you are comfortable with, starting with the Basic Seat. And it’s always better to do one move well than to do two poorly.” She smiled. “First rider up, please.”

The girls watched as each rider took their turn. Max
boosted each rider up, then stepped just far enough out of reach to be of help if he was needed. Finally it was Carole’s turn.

“Good luck,” Lisa whispered.

“Don’t break a leg,” Stevie said, grinning.