If Wishes Were Horses. Carolyn McSparren

      “Big deal. Give you a tip. However big a to-do they make over this morning, you make a bigger one. If they accuse you of being scared, tell them you were positively petrified. If they laugh, laugh louder. Confuse the hell out of them.”

      “I don’t know.”

      “Try it. It may work, and if it doesn’t, you’re no worse off than you are now. And call your nanny from the office after lunch.”

      Albert stood at the foot of the ladder with the cordless phone. “It’s Whitten.”

      “Drat.” Liz took the phone and adjusted her voice. “Yes, Mr. Whitten, what can I do for you?”

      “How did Pat’s lesson go?”

      Pat stepped off the last rung in time to hear Liz say her father’s name. She made a face.

      . “Beautifully. She did fine. Got the makings of a good rider.” Liz grinned at Pat, who bugged out her eyes and pointed at her chest with an exaggerated “me?” sign.

      “Excellent. I’ve decided to pick her up myself.”

      “Damn.” Liz whispered. “That’s fine, Mr. Whitten, but we’re running a little late today—first day and all, shakedown. Could you come about four...”

      Pat was shaking her head and holding up five fingers.

      “Uh, better make that five. Give everyone a chance to cool down.”

      Pat nodded and grinned.

      Liz heard Mike’s heavy sigh. “Yes, all right. Five. On the dot. Put Pat on the line.”

      Pat pantomimed “no.” Liz raised her eyebrows. “Of course, but please be quick. We have a schedule to meet. You’re cutting into her rest period.” That ought to get him.

      Pat put both hands around her throat as though she were strangling herself and stuck out her tongue at the phone. Liz snickered and handed it to her anyway.

      “Hey, Daddy. Yes, I did great.” She listened and looked up at Liz in panic. “No, you can’t see me ride today. Uh...the horses get fed at four-thirty.”

      Liz put thumb and forefinger together in a circle in the “that’s perfect” sign.

      Pat nodded and grinned. “Tomorrow?” She made a face. Liz shook her head violently.

      “No, Daddy, That’s too soon. I want to be able to show off what I know. Give me time to learn something, okay?” Pat listened for another moment, said goodbye and handed the phone back to Liz. “He wants to speak to you again.”

      “Miss Matthews, I apologize for my rude behavior this morning,” Whitten said. He didn’t sound one bit apologetic. Maybe he expected Liz to apologize in turn.

      “Think nothing of it. Goodbye.” Liz clicked the phone off and met Pat’s high five in midair. “Go get your lunch. And laugh like he...heck.”

      The moment Pat’s back was turned, Liz stuck out her tongue at the phone and handed it back to Albert.

      “What you up to?” he asked.

      “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

      “Doesn’t do to get between a daddy and his little girl. He finds out, he’s gonna whip your tail.”

      “Him and what army?”

      As she turned away she realized that Albert, as always, was right. She not only had to keep Whitten from finding out about her private session with Pat, she had to keep the other kids from finding out as well. And Pat Whitten did not seem like the most reliable ally. How did she get herself into these things?

      As she turned the corner and saw Pat sitting on the sofa between Janey and Kimberly and laughing like a demented hyena, she grinned. Because she reminds me of me.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      THE VAN PICKED UP the campers at three that afternoon. At three-twenty Pat mounted Wishbone while Liz held his bridle. At three-thirty Pat allowed herself to be played out on the lunge line.

      At a quarter to four Pat decided she could walk around all by hersetf—no lunge tine.

      At ten minutes to four Liz sat down on a jump in the center of the ring while Pat walked around the perimeter all by herself. By four-fifteen she decided she was ready to trot. Pat didn’t bother communicating this to Liz. She simply kicked Wishbone hard in his sides. Surprised, he woke up, grunted and obligingly trotted forward.

      Pat dropped the reins, dug both hands into the pony’s mane and yelped. Liz ran to her and grabbed Wishbone after five strides.

      “Our deal is that you do what I tell you, young lady, and not what you think you’d like to try,” Liz said.

      Pat threw her leg over the pony’s side. “I want to get down now.”

      “No way. Quit now and you’ll never get back on.”

      “But my daddy says...”

      “Your daddy is not here. Get down now and don’t bother to come back tomorrow.”

      Pat sniffled, picked up her reins and walked forward. She gulped when Liz let go and stepped away, but she stuck it out for another five minutes.

      “Okay. Now you can dismount. It’s hot and the pony’s tired.” Liz instructed Pat in the proper way to dismount—a way that did not involve throwing the reins up in the air and yelling like a coyote. “Walk him in and give him a bath. Albert will show you how.”

      Pat took the pony’s reins and began to move toward the stable door.

      “Oh, and Pat?”

      Pat looked over her shoulder.

      “You did good.”

      “I did, didn’t I?” Pat’s face glowed.

      As Liz walked into the stable behind Pat she heard the telephone ring and raced to pick it up. “ValleyCrest,” she breathed.

      “Hey, Liz,” a familiar female voice said, “This is Angie.” She sounded subdued. “Are you still speaking to me?”

      “You mean, since you left ValleyCrest and went over to the competition? I guess so. What’s up?”

      Silence, then a deep breath. “I need a favor. A really big favor. This afternoon.”

      Liz waited.

      “I don’t know whether anybody told you, but I decided to breed my mare Boop.”

      “I heard.”

      “Thing is, she’s due to foal any minute now and I have absolutely got to go to Europe for a few days on business. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “I’m terrified she’ll foal while I’m gone. Kevin refuses to be responsible. Says he delivers human babies, not horse babies.”

      “So, doesn’t Mark have a stall available?”

      Another deep breath. “I don’t trust him to handle the birth, either.” Angie went on in a rush. “He’s never foaled a mare in his life, and he couldn’t be less interested. He’s furious that I even bred her.”

      “So he won’t take her?”

      “Oh, he’ll take her, all right, but I have no intention of leaving her with him unless I can’t con you.” The voice became a wheedle. “Please, Liz, please. I know I was a total monster to abandon you and Vic the way I did for Mark’s barn. I’ve learned my lesson.”

      Liz felt a wave of elation. Angie Womack was an excellent rider who kept two very expensive hunters on board and training year round. Her OB-Gyn husband provided her with unlimited funds. If she came back to ValleyCrest, others might follow.