whenever you want?”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t you love riding Prancer?” asked Lisa’s mother.
“Yes, but—” Lisa shook her head. Maybe someday she’d talk them into changing their minds again. Meanwhile, she could ride Prancer almost any time she wanted. “Yes,” she agreed. “I do.”
“S O , D ID THEY understand?” Stevie asked eagerly. They’d made Lisa promise that she’d call them right after she talked with her parents.
“Not at all,” Lisa said. “They thought Milky was a boy, and they didn’t understand why I was worried about our relationship. I think for a few minutes they were prettyworried about me. But it doesn’t matter, because they were planning on buying me a show coat, not a horse.”
“A show coat?” asked Carole.
“Pretty hard to ride one of those,” commented Stevie. “Though I guess it wouldn’t rear or try to buck you off.”
“Don’t remind me,” Lisa said. “I’d like to forget this week. The worst part is, my parents aren’t even close to getting me my own horse.”
“We’re so sorry,” Carole said. “I never really thought that you and Milky were a great match, but I did want you to have a horse of your own.”
“Me too,” said Stevie. “But don’t give up hope. I never thought my parents were going to let me get a horse, and then all of a sudden, I got Belle. So it could happen.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
“We’re glad you’re back to normal,” Stevie said. “I mean, not worried about Milky.”
“I wouldn’t call it normal yet,” Lisa said. “Next week, when I’m riding again, that might be normal.”
“Hey, I’ve got to go,” Carole said. “Sorry, but Dad invited dinner guests, and they just got here. I’m going to make them listen to my latest French dialogue.” She hung up.
“I’m glad The Saddle Club could help Carole, anyway,” Stevie told Lisa. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t be more helpful to you.”
“Don’t be.” Lisa twirled the phone cord between her fingertips. She looked out her bedroom window at the rising moon. “I don’t think anyone could really help me. Iwas never going to make Milky into the horse of my dreams.”
“I know,” said Stevie. “I’m still sorry.” They said good-bye and disconnected. Lisa walked over to her window and pressed her face against the glass. Somewhere out there the horse of her dreams was waiting. Someday she would have a horse of her own.
“How DOES IT feel?” Carole asked.
“Wonderful!” Lisa’s face glowed with happiness. It was Friday afternoon, a crisp, clear, cloudless day. Her punishment was over: Lisa was riding Prancer at a brisk trot, and The Saddle Club was out on the trails once again.
“ ‘Back in the saddle again,’ ” sang Stevie, “ ‘Oh, back in the saddle again—’ ”
“It was nice of you guys to give up trail riding for this last week,” Lisa said. “You didn’t have to, but it did make it easier on me. Watching you ride in the ring without me was agony enough.”
“It’s never as much fun unless we’re all together,” Stevie said. “When you’re not with us because of piano or ballet, that’s one thing, but when you are at the stableand you’re just not allowed on a horse, Carole and I would feel pretty rude if we abandoned you.”
“All for one and one for all,” Carole said. She felt as high-spirited as the rest of them. That day, her dialogue in French had received a solid B, and her teacher had commented on how much she’d improved. “We’re a team.”
“No, a club,” said Stevie.
“The Saddle Club!” Lisa waved her riding crop like a flag. Prancer began to prance nervously. Lisa put her crop back down and patted the mare. “Sorry, dear. I wasn’t going to hit you.”
“You and Prancer look like a team again,” Stevie said.
Lisa laughed. “Well, for one thing, she’s no longer in heat. But I think I’ll never again get quite as frustrated with her as I did before I met
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t you love riding Prancer?” asked Lisa’s mother.
“Yes, but—” Lisa shook her head. Maybe someday she’d talk them into changing their minds again. Meanwhile, she could ride Prancer almost any time she wanted. “Yes,” she agreed. “I do.”
“S O , D ID THEY understand?” Stevie asked eagerly. They’d made Lisa promise that she’d call them right after she talked with her parents.
“Not at all,” Lisa said. “They thought Milky was a boy, and they didn’t understand why I was worried about our relationship. I think for a few minutes they were prettyworried about me. But it doesn’t matter, because they were planning on buying me a show coat, not a horse.”
“A show coat?” asked Carole.
“Pretty hard to ride one of those,” commented Stevie. “Though I guess it wouldn’t rear or try to buck you off.”
“Don’t remind me,” Lisa said. “I’d like to forget this week. The worst part is, my parents aren’t even close to getting me my own horse.”
“We’re so sorry,” Carole said. “I never really thought that you and Milky were a great match, but I did want you to have a horse of your own.”
“Me too,” said Stevie. “But don’t give up hope. I never thought my parents were going to let me get a horse, and then all of a sudden, I got Belle. So it could happen.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
“We’re glad you’re back to normal,” Stevie said. “I mean, not worried about Milky.”
“I wouldn’t call it normal yet,” Lisa said. “Next week, when I’m riding again, that might be normal.”
“Hey, I’ve got to go,” Carole said. “Sorry, but Dad invited dinner guests, and they just got here. I’m going to make them listen to my latest French dialogue.” She hung up.
“I’m glad The Saddle Club could help Carole, anyway,” Stevie told Lisa. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t be more helpful to you.”
“Don’t be.” Lisa twirled the phone cord between her fingertips. She looked out her bedroom window at the rising moon. “I don’t think anyone could really help me. Iwas never going to make Milky into the horse of my dreams.”
“I know,” said Stevie. “I’m still sorry.” They said good-bye and disconnected. Lisa walked over to her window and pressed her face against the glass. Somewhere out there the horse of her dreams was waiting. Someday she would have a horse of her own.
“How DOES IT feel?” Carole asked.
“Wonderful!” Lisa’s face glowed with happiness. It was Friday afternoon, a crisp, clear, cloudless day. Her punishment was over: Lisa was riding Prancer at a brisk trot, and The Saddle Club was out on the trails once again.
“ ‘Back in the saddle again,’ ” sang Stevie, “ ‘Oh, back in the saddle again—’ ”
“It was nice of you guys to give up trail riding for this last week,” Lisa said. “You didn’t have to, but it did make it easier on me. Watching you ride in the ring without me was agony enough.”
“It’s never as much fun unless we’re all together,” Stevie said. “When you’re not with us because of piano or ballet, that’s one thing, but when you are at the stableand you’re just not allowed on a horse, Carole and I would feel pretty rude if we abandoned you.”
“All for one and one for all,” Carole said. She felt as high-spirited as the rest of them. That day, her dialogue in French had received a solid B, and her teacher had commented on how much she’d improved. “We’re a team.”
“No, a club,” said Stevie.
“The Saddle Club!” Lisa waved her riding crop like a flag. Prancer began to prance nervously. Lisa put her crop back down and patted the mare. “Sorry, dear. I wasn’t going to hit you.”
“You and Prancer look like a team again,” Stevie said.
Lisa laughed. “Well, for one thing, she’s no longer in heat. But I think I’ll never again get quite as frustrated with her as I did before I met
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