Horse Trade by Bonnie Bryant Page B

starred in Annie.”
    “I know,” Phil said. “My whole family saw her and we thought she was fantastic.”
    “I guess I’m no Lisa,” Stevie said grimly. “Maybe I’ll be a horse-show clown. Like one of those guys in baggy pants. I seem to have a certain natural talent.”
    “A talent for riding, yes, for singing, no,” Phil said, trotting over to her with an amused look on his face.
    “Phil,” came a voice from the house.
    Stevie saw Mrs. Marsten’s head sticking out of an upper window. “Mr. Baker called,” she said, “and he wants you and Stevie to come early to the Pony Club meeting so he can check out your progress.”
    “No problem,” Phil said, and made a thumbs-up gesture to show that everything was fine. He turned to Stevie. “We’d better groom the horses and get started.”
    “Definitely,” Stevie said, thinking that now would be the time to try another possible allergy causer on No-Name. Today she had decided to try saddle soap.
    After she’d picked No-Name’s hooves, a job that Stevie liked particularly because it took gentleness and concentration, and after she had brushed and curry-combed her, Stevie went into the Marstens’ tack room topolish No-Name’s saddle. She put it on the saddle horse, which was a saw horse topped by a V-shaped piece of wood, and stripped the saddle, removing the girth, stirrup leathers, and irons. Then she turned the saddle over and removed the dirt and dried sweat from the lining.
    She put the saddle back on the saddle horse, washed it with cold water, and dried it with a soft chamois cloth, being careful to remove all the black greasy marks that were called jockeys. Then with an almost dry sponge, using a circular motion, she put saddle soap on the seat and the flaps. From experience Stevie knew to leave neither streaks nor crumbs, but this time she used way too much soap, the way a beginner would, and left a rim of yellow soap around the edge of the stirrup flaps.
    “Hey, you missed some,” said Phil from behind her.
    “I’m checking to see if she’s allergic to saddle soap,” she said.
    “Good thinking,” said Phil. “That might well be it.”
    When they got to Cross County, Mr. Baker was in the ring, practicing shoulder-ins. It was funny, Stevie thought, to see a teacher practicing. But she knew that an important part of teaching was demonstrating. Stevie sighed, thinking of some of Max’s really great demonstrations, like the one he did on Prancer before the dressage rally a few weeks ago. To give good demonstrations, both horse and rider have to be in top shape. Mr. Baker and hishorse were not just practicing their moves, but keeping limber.
    “Stevie!” Mr. Baker said, touching his crop to his riding hat. “I’m glad you’ll be joining the exhibition. Cross County riders can learn a lot from you.”
    Stevie smiled her thanks. “I’m sure I can learn a lot from them.”
    “In any case,” said Mr. Baker with a smile, “I’d like to see Phil go through his paces alone first.” He turned to Phil. “I know you’ve been working, but I have to make sure that Cross County puts on a good show in front of the members of Horse Wise. We have our honor to uphold, after all.”
    Stevie knew what he meant. Mr. Baker and Max Regnery were friends, but also rivals. Mr. Baker wanted to look good on his home turf.
    “I’ll get out of the way,” Stevie said, and rode No-Name outside the ring, where she dismounted and let the horse graze on a patch of greenery next to the fence.
    Phil started his dressage exercise with a sitting trot and moved into a shoulder-in and then a countercanter, making the changes with ease. He held the reins lightly while Teddy moved with his head up, feet bright, and tail lively.
    “I’m impressed,” Mr. Baker said when Phil was finished. “You’ve gained finesse.” He turned to Stevie. “I think you have something to do with that.”
    Stevie flushed with pleasure at the compliment. “Maybe,” she said, “but