Saddle Sore by Bonnie Bryant Page B

sure that Monica’s balance wasn’t up to bareback galloping, not yet, and she was equally sure that Emily’s wasn’t, either. She opened her mouth to say so when Emily grinned and said, “A walking race. First horse home wins, but anyone who trots is out.”
    Monica grinned. “That sounds like a good bareback race.” She tapped her crop gently behind her leg to perk up Buttercup’s walk. Buttercup responded with a slight increase in speed.
    Lisa tried to motivate Chocolate, but the mare seemed to have fallen asleep. Lisa clucked and squeezed with her legs. Chocolate didn’t seem to notice. “This is a bad time for a nap,” Lisa told her. “Stevie,” she continued, “what are you doing?” Stevie had gathered the reins short. She wrapped her legs around Stewball’s barrel.
    “Dressage,” Stevie said grandly. “Behold anextended walk.” She signaled to Stewball. He promptly jogged.
    “Thank you,” Lisa told her. “Now I can’t be last even if Chocolate lies down for a nap.”
    Stevie good-naturedly rode over to Lisa. “Her eyes are closing,” she reported. “Chocolate! Wake up! Think about oats! Think about hay!”
    “Arahyh!”
Christine muttered in disgust, behind them.
    “What happened?” Lisa asked.
    “He jogged,” Christine said. “Just one stride!”
    “Oh well,” Stevie said. “Come up and join the losers brigade.”
    “Speak for yourself,” Lisa retorted. “If everyone else jogs, Chocolate and I will win.”
    Christine eyed Chocolate. “She’s not going to jog, that’s for sure.”
    In the end, Kate won by a large margin. “But Moonglow’s my horse,” she said. “I know her really well, and she listens to me.”
    “What’s my excuse?” Christine asked, laughing.
    “It’s like you, Kate, to credit Moonglow,” Emily added. “As if your superior horsemanship didn’t have anything to do with it.” The Saddle Club had told Emily all about Kate’s illustriousshow background. Emily could see for herself what a good rider Kate was.
    “Well,” Monica said, with a big grin, “I’m not going to give Buttercup any credit for my second-place finish. It was
all
due to my superior horsemanship.”
    “Oh, of course,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. Monica laughed. She dismounted and hugged Buttercup for a long time.
    “Riding feels so good,” she said.
    “At this point,” Stevie said, “breakfast might feel even better.”
    W HEN THEY TROOPED into the dining room, Monica’s parents looked both startled and proud to see their daughter up so early. “Getting ready to ride?” Mrs. Hopkins asked.
    “Mom, look at my jeans,” Monica said. “That’s horsehair they’re covered with. We’ve been riding for two hours already.”
    “Bareback,” Emily added proudly.
    “We’re famished,” Stevie said, as they all sat down.
    Once they’d consumed half a dozen pancakes each, they were capable of speech again. “Okay,”Kate said, still chewing, “let’s make plans. You guys will need to leave the ranch at three o’clock this afternoon. How long will it take you to pack up?”
    Stevie speared another pancake off the platter. “Twenty minutes, tops.”
    “Okay.” Kate checked her watch. “It’ll take half an hour to take care of the horses at the end of the day, so we can ride until ten after two. It’s six forty-five now—”
    “Lunch,” Stevie pleaded.
    “Picnic,” Emily said crisply.
    “Good idea! We can make that while we let the horses digest their breakfasts.”
    “If we hurry making the picnic,” Lisa suggested, “we’ll have time to pack this morning. Then we can ride until two-thirty.”
    Carole grinned. “That’s using your head, Lisa. Where haven’t we been yet? We need to show Emily the island—”
    “What about Pulpit Rock?” Monica cut in. “I want to see that.”
    “They’ve already been there,” Kate explained. “Monica, you and I have all day tomorrow to go everywhere they’ve already been.”
    “If you can go everywhere