Stagestruck. Shelley Peterson

She smiled from ear to ear. Now she would walk him out until his breathing returned to normal.

      “Abby, that was great,” called Hilary. “He certainly works for you, doesn’t he?”

      Abby nodded. “He’s a great horse.”

      Liam and Pete stood together. They’d been conferring quietly the whole time they’d been watching.

      “Well ridden, Abby,” said Liam. “I’m proud of you, my girl.”

      “Me, too,” agreed Pete. “He’s not an easy horse to ride. Not many people have stayed on.”

      Liam added, “Not many people would even try.”

      “He never put a foot wrong,” replied Abby. “He actually made it really easy for me.”

      “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” said Laura Pierson, fussing with her bright pink head scarf. “You’re a very brave girl.” A petite woman with fine features, Laura kept her bouffant hair blond with weekly trips to her hairdresser. She still liked to look attractive for Pete, even after almost sixty years of marriage. Her actions were quick and alert, and her good-natured, devilish smile could light up a room.

      “Come on in for coffee and croissants,” said Rory, motioning toward the house. “Joy picked them up at Le Petit Gourmet in Toronto just this morning.”

      “One hour ago,” said Joy, pleased. “They’re not still hot, but they’re fresh.”

      Rory took Joy’s arm. “I like having a mother-in-law who spoils me.” With his generous nature and dark good looks, Rory was a natural leader. “Come on, everybody. Please come in. The show’s over. You girls join us when you’re ready.” He put his other arm around Christine’s waist, and they started for the house followed by the Malones and the Piersons.

      Diva and Pepper had been racing around, chasing each other and anything else that moved. These two dogs were great friends, co-conspirators in mischief. Now they fell in with the group of humans, hoping for treats.

      “You think those young girls can handle that wild horse?” asked Pete, tongue in cheek.

      “Better than you and me,” Liam responded proudly.

      Abby kept Dancer walking.

      “You rode great, Abby,” Hilary repeated.

      “Thanks,” replied Abby. “He’s the one who’s great. I just sat on him.”

      “I wonder if you understand, Abby. If he didn’t want you to be on his back, you wouldn’t be there. Many people can testify to that.” She laughed. “And if he didn’t want to jump, you couldn’t have made him budge.” Hilary tilted her head, trying to find the right way to explain. “He likes you. It’s as simple and as rare as that.”

      “I think I do understand. Before you came out, Dancer and I had sort of a testing. He passed my test. I must have passed his.”

      Hilary nodded slowly. “Yes, you must have. I’ve never seen him so good with anybody but me, aside from that little mounting-block avoidance tactic.”

      Abby grinned broadly, basking in Hilary’s praise.

      “Can you come back tomorrow?” Hilary asked. “I have to go back to school early Tuesday morning, and I’d like to work with you one more time. How’s after school?”

      “I’ll be here.” Abby felt good all over. The sky was the limit.

      Samuel Owens put down the phone. He smiled. Things were going his way. His goals were about to be fulfilled. It was all so easy when you had money. His real estate agent had agreed to keep Owens’ interest in Wick Farm a secret. He’d been told that there had been no offers in all the years it’d been on the market. Some woman was looking at it later in the day, but the agent assured him that it would come to nothing, and that Owens would get it for an extremely reasonable price. He had only to wait until Robert Wick became desperate, which should be soon, and lowball an offer. On the off chance that someone else should put in an offer, the agent would give him a chance to put in a higher one. Owens considered the matter done.

      The acre property next door was a trifle. It was hardly worth thinking about. That old woman would take anything he offered.

      Last but not least, the Casey property. Samuel Owens leaned back in his leather chair and sighed contentedly, savouring the events of the night before. Helena Casey had been receptive to his charms. He’d called on her around five o’clock for a visit and a drink, and had returned home at approximately two in the morning.

      She’d had a drink or two before he’d arrived, but then again, so had he. Her pale, beautiful face had looked surprised to see him, but she’d invited him in without hesitation. Owens knew the type. She was lonely and bored and tipsy. A little flattery, a little charm. It didn’t take much.

      Owens stretched out his arms and yawned like a satisfied lion after a full meal. The April sun streamed through his large windows and fell across his rich oriental carpet, warming the library with the colours of the Far East. Gone were the dismal greys of the previous day.

      How could she have been married to a man like Rory Casey? he wondered. She needs a man of the world like me. A man who knows the ropes. Helena intrigued him. Beauty, grace, and elegance, wrapped up with a wonderfully catty sense of humour and a piece of property that Owens coveted. She despised all the people Owens despised. She found the same things abhorrent. They had so much in common. She might be someone he could spend time with. There were opportunities here, beyond the mere acquisition of land.

      5

      CALEDON HIGH

      MONDAY WAS A GLORIOUS DAY, with the scents of crocuses and lilacs winning over the earthy smell of early spring. Birds called to each other noisily and insects buzzed and hummed. At seven forty-five in the morning, the sky was clear and the air was cool. Liam Malone pulled his car up to the school.

      “Thanks for the ride, Dad,” Abby called as she waved goodbye.

      “See you later, lass. Have a good day.”

      Liam dropped off Abby on his way to work when their schedules matched. Otherwise, she rode her bike and took the school bus home when no one was going her way. Sometimes she got a lift home. Sam Morris had his family’s old red Ford, but Abby never got a lift from him anymore.

      With the excitement of the storm, the theatre, and Dancer, Abby hadn’t thought about Sam all weekend. Now, walking up the wide stone steps of the school, Abby’s heart plummeted in an all-too-familiar way. Sam had been her first boyfriend, and they’d dated for almost a year. Since their breakup the year before, Abby had dated several other boys and had had fun playing the field. It was great going to movies and dances with different people, and she’d really liked a few of them. But lately she’d started thinking about Sam again. With his beautiful brown eyes and his sweet smile, Sam had stolen her heart the first time she saw him.

      His sister, Leslie Morris, was two years younger than Sam; Abby’s age. Abby and Leslie had been best friends since the beginning of grade school. Leslie and another good friend, Lucy, were both very supportive when Abby confided in them. Lucy didn’t want to see Abby hurt. The class comedian, she had likened the whole thing to ice cream. Abby had one favourite flavour. Why not sample all the others? In Lucy’s opinion, it was very narrow-minded to insist that just because you like strawberry you shouldn’t give butterscotch a chance. And chocolate fudge and rocky road.

      Easy for her to say, thought Abby, making her way down the hall to her locker. Lucy was one of the most popular girls in grade ten. She was outgoing and funny, and she laughed riotously at all the boys’ jokes. Abby figured that that was the way to a man’s heart, forget the cooking.

      And Abby had gone out with other boys. She had sampled other flavours. But Sam was, well, Sam. He was kind and thoughtful and insightful. He