Free English Horse by Bonnie Bryant Page A

best thing to a horse thief. No wonder everyone is giving me dirty looks! Don’t you think this requires a little creative retaliation?”
    Carole avoided meeting her eye as she shook her head. “It’s not worth it,” she said. “Really. It only encourages her.”
    Tessa was silent for a long moment. “Well, okay,” she said at last, biting her lip. “If you say so.” She sighed. “But I’ve at least got to talk to some of the people she told—you know, clear my good name. I’ll be back soon, okay? I’m going to see if Betsy and Joe and Meg are still around.”
    The other girls didn’t try to stop her. When Tessa was out of earshot, Carole sighed loudly. “Wow,” she said, attacking the dirty straw in Derby’s stall with new energy. “What are we going to do now?”
    “I think we headed her off this time,” Lisa said. “But you know there’s going to be a next time … and a next time …”
    “I know,” Stevie said. “I think it’s about time we just—”
    “Well, hello,” a snide voice interrupted her. “Where’s your little foreign friend?”
    “Hello, Veronica,” Stevie replied icily. “What are you doing here? Is the mall closed?”
    Veronica didn’t reply. She just leaned back against the wall outside Derby’s door, looking smug and self-satisfied. “I do hope
Lady
Theresa is enjoying her little visit to America,” she purred.
    Carole glanced anxiously at Stevie. Veronica was obviously trying to goad them.
    But she needn’t have worried. Stevie was smiling calmly. “You know, Veronica, you really should talk to Mr. French sometime.”
    Veronica looked confused but wary. “Mr. French?” she repeated. “Why on earth would I want to talk to him?” Mr. French was one of Max’s adult riders.
    “Well, he works for the State Department, so he might be able to give you some career advice,” Stevie explained. “Because with your personality, you’re definitely destined for a career as a diplomat.”
    Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “Very funny, Stevie,” she said sarcastically.
    “Uh-huh,” Stevie went on as if she hadn’t heard her. “If we—I mean you—are really lucky, maybe you’ll get sent someplace really great. Like Timbuktu.”
    She burst out laughing at her own joke. Carole and Lisa did the same, feeling relieved. Their riding privileges were safe—for a little while longer, at least.
    And all Veronica could do was stand there and glare at them.

T HE NEXT MORNING when Lisa arrived downstairs for breakfast, she found Tessa there ahead of her. The visitor was sitting at the kitchen table with Mrs. Atwood. Papers were spread out across the table, covering every bit of the surface except for the small space occupied by Tessa’s cereal bowl.
    “Morning.” Lisa greeted her mother and Tessa with a yawn. “What are you guys doing?” She grabbed a clean glass out of the cabinet and sat down beside Tessa.
    Mrs. Atwood smiled eagerly. “Oh, Tessa and I were just looking over the course plans for the point-to-point races,” she said. “The course designer we hired finished them yesterday, and since Tessa knows so much about these things, I thought—”
    “What?” Lisa broke in, aghast. She quickly glanced at the large sheet of paper spread in front of Tessa. “Mom, you’re not supposed to show her those! She’s riding in the race, remember? None of us are supposed to see the course until the morning of the event!”
    “Oh, Lisa,” Mrs. Atwood began with a little laugh. “Tessa said something about that too, but I’m sure no one would mind if—”
    “Mom!” Lisa exclaimed. Now she knew exactly what was going on. Obviously, Mrs. Atwood had wanted to show Tessa the course map. Tessa had politely demurred. Mrs. Atwood had ignored her protests and insisted on showing her anyway, and Tessa had been too polite to refuse. Lisa quickly grabbed the map and flipped it facedown on the table. “You don’t understand,” she told her mother in exasperation.