give it a dwist. You have do have a dwist,” she said meditatively. “You’re nowhere without a dwist. I know!” She was so excited she half jumped off the horse blankets. “That’s it. Indedible!” And then she sneezed not once, but twice.
“Listen,” Stevie said, looking at her with concern, “you’re getting sick. Do you think you should go home?”
“Dever,” Hollie said. “I’m dabsolutely fine.”
But Stevie stood up and started to pull Hollie to her feet. “You need to do something about that cold of yours.”
“It’s nothing,” Hollie was saying. “It’s dodally dover.”
“Are you sure?” Stevie said doubtfully. “You sound horrible.”
Hollie nodded emphatically, then gestured for Stevie to sit back down again. “I’ve got a great idea,” she began.“You know that song ‘Always’? Well, you and Phil could …”
Stevie obediently dropped back down on the blanket and listened to Hollie. Soon she was so absorbed in Hollie’s ideas for the dressage exhibition, she forgot all about the other girl’s cold.
T HE NEXT DAY , Phil was sitting on the bench in front of the Berryville pharmacy when Stevie got off the bus.
“I’ve solved everything,” she said while she was still halfway down the steps of the bus. “I’ve got our doncept.”
“Doncept?” Phil said as her feet hit the dusty road.
“Oops. I’ve been talking to Hollie too long. I mean concept. The concept is the whole thing,” Stevie told him. “Without a concept we’re dead.”
“For real?” Phil said as they turned up the road that led toward his place. Far off, in front of the forest, Stevie could see the red brick chimney and gray stones of his house.
“Hollie came up with this absolutely killer concept. It’s a song called ‘Almost.’ ”
“Almost what?” Phil said.
“Almost ‘Almost.’ I mean the name of the song is ‘Almost.’ Hollie and I wrote the words. It’s about two people who like each other and intend to get together, but something gets in their way.”
Phil looked at her blankly.
“What I mean is,” Stevie went on, rushing to explain the wonderful idea to Phil, “you and I will countercanter toward each other and meet … almost. As we do our figure eights, we’ll come closer and closer and join hands … almost. It’s sung to the tune of ‘Always.’ ”
“I don’t know if I like the sound of this,” Phil said grimly. “Miss after miss after miss sounds kind of depressing.”
“But at the end …” Stevie turned to him and grinned.
“Yes?” said Phil, looking really interested.
“We come together for a big finale and the song changes to ‘Always.’ This was Hollie’s idea,” Stevie added hastily.
“I like the way her mind works,” Phil said. They walked for a while in silence; then Phil said, “To tell you the truth, it makes me kind of nervous. Dressage and music,and riding with you. I’m wondering if Teddy and I are up to it. We aren’t as experienced as you.”
“So we’ll practice,” Stevie said happily. “I think this routine needs lots and lots of practice. Besides, it’s obvious No-Name has had some dressage experience, but she may need lots of work, too.”
“Okay,” Phil agreed.
When Stevie entered No-Name’s stall, she was afraid to look. On Friday she had doused the horse with fly spray. Today, if No-Name had hives, there would be no riding. Stevie half closed her eyes and ran her hand up No-Name’s neck, relieved to find that it felt smooth.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she murmured, opening her eyes. “Hey,” she said in No-Name’s ear, “you’re not allergic to whatever is in fly spray. So the culprit must be carrots, apples, or saddle soap.”
No-Name nuzzled Stevie, looking at her with her big brown eyes.
“Ready for ‘Almost’?” Stevie said.
No-Name nickered.
“Me too,” Stevie said. “Almost.”
When No-Name was saddled, Stevie led her into the outdoor ring, where she found Phil and
“Listen,” Stevie said, looking at her with concern, “you’re getting sick. Do you think you should go home?”
“Dever,” Hollie said. “I’m dabsolutely fine.”
But Stevie stood up and started to pull Hollie to her feet. “You need to do something about that cold of yours.”
“It’s nothing,” Hollie was saying. “It’s dodally dover.”
“Are you sure?” Stevie said doubtfully. “You sound horrible.”
Hollie nodded emphatically, then gestured for Stevie to sit back down again. “I’ve got a great idea,” she began.“You know that song ‘Always’? Well, you and Phil could …”
Stevie obediently dropped back down on the blanket and listened to Hollie. Soon she was so absorbed in Hollie’s ideas for the dressage exhibition, she forgot all about the other girl’s cold.
T HE NEXT DAY , Phil was sitting on the bench in front of the Berryville pharmacy when Stevie got off the bus.
“I’ve solved everything,” she said while she was still halfway down the steps of the bus. “I’ve got our doncept.”
“Doncept?” Phil said as her feet hit the dusty road.
“Oops. I’ve been talking to Hollie too long. I mean concept. The concept is the whole thing,” Stevie told him. “Without a concept we’re dead.”
“For real?” Phil said as they turned up the road that led toward his place. Far off, in front of the forest, Stevie could see the red brick chimney and gray stones of his house.
“Hollie came up with this absolutely killer concept. It’s a song called ‘Almost.’ ”
“Almost what?” Phil said.
“Almost ‘Almost.’ I mean the name of the song is ‘Almost.’ Hollie and I wrote the words. It’s about two people who like each other and intend to get together, but something gets in their way.”
Phil looked at her blankly.
“What I mean is,” Stevie went on, rushing to explain the wonderful idea to Phil, “you and I will countercanter toward each other and meet … almost. As we do our figure eights, we’ll come closer and closer and join hands … almost. It’s sung to the tune of ‘Always.’ ”
“I don’t know if I like the sound of this,” Phil said grimly. “Miss after miss after miss sounds kind of depressing.”
“But at the end …” Stevie turned to him and grinned.
“Yes?” said Phil, looking really interested.
“We come together for a big finale and the song changes to ‘Always.’ This was Hollie’s idea,” Stevie added hastily.
“I like the way her mind works,” Phil said. They walked for a while in silence; then Phil said, “To tell you the truth, it makes me kind of nervous. Dressage and music,and riding with you. I’m wondering if Teddy and I are up to it. We aren’t as experienced as you.”
“So we’ll practice,” Stevie said happily. “I think this routine needs lots and lots of practice. Besides, it’s obvious No-Name has had some dressage experience, but she may need lots of work, too.”
“Okay,” Phil agreed.
When Stevie entered No-Name’s stall, she was afraid to look. On Friday she had doused the horse with fly spray. Today, if No-Name had hives, there would be no riding. Stevie half closed her eyes and ran her hand up No-Name’s neck, relieved to find that it felt smooth.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she murmured, opening her eyes. “Hey,” she said in No-Name’s ear, “you’re not allergic to whatever is in fly spray. So the culprit must be carrots, apples, or saddle soap.”
No-Name nuzzled Stevie, looking at her with her big brown eyes.
“Ready for ‘Almost’?” Stevie said.
No-Name nickered.
“Me too,” Stevie said. “Almost.”
When No-Name was saddled, Stevie led her into the outdoor ring, where she found Phil and
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