On any given morning, the Covington stables were a busy place. Students had to feed and groom their horses, muck out the stalls, sweep floors, clean tack and other equipment as needed, and fetch heavy bales of hay and alfalfa. At the same time, they had to keep an eye out for signs of any pest infestations in the stable and ailments in their horses. Students and staff workers hustled back and forth, greeting one another as they passed, commenting on the latest gossip, and in general, enjoying their chores. It was hard work, but it was satisfying. No one there had a desire to be anywhere else. Horses and riding were the reasons Covington existed.

One stall, however, was silent on this busy morning. The stall contained only a bale of hay, and on that bale slumped a very despondent Kit Bridges. TK’s bridle lay in her lap, and as she stared out at nothing, her fingers gently caressed the leather straps. She sighed and closed her eyes.

A sound at the door made her open them again. Will Palmerston stood there. “Hey,” he said. He seemed to want to say more, but when Kit remained silent, waiting, he just nodded awkwardly and walked away.

Kit knew what he wanted to say. I’m sorry. That’s all anybody was saying to her. Everybody knew she was devastated, but nobody knew what to do about it except say I’m sorry. She was going to freak if one more person said that.

When Nav Andrada appeared, she steeled herself to hear it again. But Nav surprised her. “Hi. Any word from Anya?”

How refreshing to hear something different! Too bad Kit was feeling as depressed about Anya as she was about TK. Anya Patel had recently left the school, and Kit believed it was her fault.

During her time at Covington, Anya had been keeping an incredible secret: she was really the daughter of a maharaja of India. She was a bona fide princess! But she had come to Covington to live, learn, and grow as a regular teenager because she didn’t want to depend on the privilege of her social status. She became Kit’s roommate and best friend, until recently, when Anya’s secret had been discovered. As she had feared, people had begun to treat her differently. Most terrible of all, though, was that Kit had actually gotten angry at her for “lying.” Only now did Kit understand Anya’s point of view. And now she’s gone, too, Kit thought dismally, clutching TK’s bridle as she tried to formulate an answer to Nav’s question. “I haven’t heard from her exactly,” she finally said. “Josh says she’s in London, and that she’s all right, so . . . that’s something.”

“Good,” said Nav. “Um, I had a thought for you.”

Oh, don’t say you’re sorry, please!

“Horses have papers,” Nav continued. “TK’s sale would have had to go through the registry. If we find the bill of sale, we find TK.”

Kit’s jaw dropped. “That’s a great idea!”

“It’s worth a shot,” Nav agreed. “I’ll find you at lunch for an update, okay?”

Kit could hardly contain her excitement. “Better than okay!” she cried. “Nav-tacular!”

Lunchtime rolled around. In the dining hall, Elaine Whiltshire sat at one of several tables, half a chicken sandwich with a side of tomato slices on her plate. When her loyal henchwoman, Peaches, joined her, Elaine said, “Peaches, I have some rather tragic news.”

Peaches wasn’t really a henchwoman. She was a fellow student. But Elaine considered her her personal assistant. Peaches did anything Elaine told her to do, no matter how sneaky. Not even Elaine knew why Peaches was so willing. But Peaches seemed fine with the arrangement, so Elaine took full advantage.

Upon hearing Elaine’s warning about tragic news, Peaches said, “Oh, no!” Her expression grew sad. “But Mr. Mittens was so young! What about his nine lives?”

Elaine stared at her.

“He should have worn a helmet,” Peaches declared, taking a carrot from her plate and nibbling it.

By now Elaine was used to the utterly bizarre things that Peaches often said, but this one took the cake. “What? No!” She had to compose herself all over again so that she could announce with appropriate gravity, “I am unable to continue tutoring you in grammar.”

“Oh, good!” Peaches exclaimed. Seeing the shock on Elaine’s face, she backtracked with “I mean, oh, bad! Obviously my grammar is still in need of your splendiferosityness.”

“Mangle the language as much as you like, Peaches, but I must go where I’m needed.” As she said this, Elaine glanced over at the doorway. Her next project, handsome Will Palmerston, was entering the hall.

Peaches followed her gaze. “Ohhhhhh,” she said. “You are needed in County Cute.” She gave Elaine a knowing grin.

Elaine refused to let Peaches know that she’d hit the nail on the head. “That has nothing to do with it,” she lied. “Will is an excellent rider, and I must ensure his ability to compete moving forward. Now, run along.”

“But —”

Elaine cut her off. In her world, henchwomen did not disobey orders. “You know where you’re supposed to go,” she said sharply.

Peaches hung her head like a scolded puppy, picked up her plate, and scuttered over to the table where Kit, Josh Luders, and Nav were sitting. Elaine was pleased to see her pursuing her ongoing assignment, which was to hear and report back any interesting news about the school cowgirl.

Elaine focused back on Will, annoyed to see him wave shyly at Kit, who waved back, equally shyly. “Will!” Elaine called, gesturing emphatically at the empty chair next to her.

Will slid into the seat Peaches had vacated, but he glanced back over at Kit.

“Um, so . . .” Elaine started, in an attempt to focus his attention on her. “Now that the Covington Cup is over, I wanted to offer to help you. I obviously couldn’t help you before because, well, my main focus was beating your house.”

Will was looking at Kit again, though Kit was now talking to Nav.

Elaine leaned in closer. “But now it’s over,” she went on, “and we’re all back on the same team. I wanted to offer my assistance with something I know you’re . . . troubled with?” She decided to end the speech as a question. That way she appeared hesitant, as if she was aware of the sensitive nature of Will’s academic problems. He would jump up and run if she came right out and said, “Let me help you with your studies before you get yourself kicked out.” She considered herself a master of subtle persuasion. Too bad it wasn’t stopping Will from glancing at Kit yet again. Elaine waited, annoyed, until her offer suddenly hit him.

His eyes went wide. “Really?” he asked. “I didn’t think you’d be into helping me with . . . this.” Yet another glance at Kit.

Elaine yanked his attention back. “It’s fine! I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?” She was getting excited now. Will wanted her to tutor him! She’d had her doubts, but it looked like her plan was going to work. She was going to spend many delicious hours alone with Will Palmerston! And during those hours she was going to show him that they were made for each other. After all, it was obvious to everyone, right? Except him. Well, now she’d have a chance to change that. “So,” she said, her voice giddy, “I’ll get my books!” She reached for her tote, eager to get started.

“Books?” Will asked.

Why did he sound so confused? Then she got it. He was giving her a compliment, implying that she didn’t need books to tutor him because she was so smart. How sweet of him! So she teased back, “Yes, books. They were created long, long ago, and they’re filled with words. You’ll love them!”

Over at Kit’s table, Nav was holding up a folder. “This is what the registry looks like,” he explained to Kit. “You see the —”

Across from Kit, Josh held up his cell phone. “If TK got shipped out of the country, then there’s probably a record of that — if we know the name of the new owner.”

Nav gave him a frosty frown. “Yes. That was my point.”

“How do we get our hands on that kind of information?” Kit asked.

Nav began to answer, but he wasn’t as fast as motormouthed Josh, who said, “Lady C’s got to have a copy of the bill of sale.”

“I was just about to say that!” Nav protested.

“Pick up your pace, brah. Look, if you talk like me, dude? You get way more stuff done.”

Kit ignored the boys’ one-upmanship game and thought out loud, “We just break into her office.”

“You are very brave, Kit,” said Peaches. “Like a girl in a novel!”

While Kit wondered what that was supposed to mean — and why Peaches was sitting with them and not Elaine, anyway — Josh said, “Except why make this harder on ourselves? I mean, why don’t we just do the old distract-and-snatch?”

“Forgive me,” Nav said politely, “but I don’t speak Criminal.”

“Aw, c’mon, roomie.”

Kit saw that a proper demonstration was in order. She let out a big fake sneeze with a big fake, “Achoo!”

“Bless you.” Nav, ever the gentleman, offered her his handkerchief. And as he did so, Josh snatched Nav’s pudding cup and began to snarf it down.

When Nav noticed his dessert disappearing down Josh’s gullet, he rolled his eyes. “Oh. Right. I get it. Do they just teach you this at birth in the Wild West?”

Kit realized something. “But wait, guys. I can’t be anywhere near Lady C today, not after my blowout this morning.”

“Hey, we got this — don’t worry,” Josh assured her. “We just need to find a way in.”

Peaches spoke up, her eyes fixed on Josh’s pudding cup. “Can I have the dessert?”

Josh held the pudding protectively. “No way, Peaches. Find your own scam.”

Peaches aimed her response at Kit, not Josh. “What if I told you I could get you an appointment with Lady Covington? Bystro.”

Kit had no idea what bystro meant, but Peaches seemed quite serious. Kit had always thought of her as Elaine’s loyal minion, but the offer sounded too good to pass up. So Kit snatched Josh’s pudding cup and handed it to Peaches. “I’d say you just scammed a dessert!”

Peaches started eating, giving Josh a sneaky, “Heh, heh, heh!”

Kit was glad to see that Josh took it well. At least the scammer knew when he’d been outscammed.

An hour later, Elaine entered the student lounge, excited about her first tutoring lesson with Will. He was due to arrive any minute. “All right, everyone out,” she told the four students who were there.

They all glowered at her.

“Come on, you know the drill!” Elaine jerked her thumb over her shoulder to further indicate her wishes. “I need the space, and that means I don’t need you in it, thank you. I’m sure you can find somewhere else to study. Spit-spot!” She clapped her hands as if she were commanding toddlers.

The students grumbled, gathered up their books, and left. Elaine smiled as she watched them go. It was satisfying to know that they understood who ruled the roost. She didn’t enjoy ordering people about; that wasn’t her goal at all. It was simply a matter of practicality. Those students could study anywhere. She, on the other hand, needed the lounge in order to help a fellow student. Her needs were more important.

She chose to conduct her lesson on one of the plush red couches rather than at one of the tables. Couches were more comfortable and therefore more conducive to teaching a peer, she decided. Especially a very cute one. She straightened the cushions and plumped up the pillows before setting her books on the nearby coffee table. Then, after straightening her uniform jacket and arranging her skirt so that it would fan out just right, she sat.

The sound of footsteps approached. Hastily she grabbed her lip gloss and put some on, pressing her lips together to distribute it evenly. Perfect!

Will appeared in the doorway. She waved him over. “Hi,” she said, a little breathlessly. Goodness, he looked handsome. She never ceased to marvel at how he could energize a room simply by being in it.

“Hi.” Will plopped down next to her, dumping his backpack at his side.

“Um, so,” Elaine began, trying to ignore the fact that Will’s hair was all rumpled. It was so adorable that way. . . . “We’ll just dive right in.”

“Yep, sounds good.”

With that confirmed, Elaine reached for her textbook and opened it on her lap.

Will frowned at it. “Oh. You want me to write this down?”

Elaine wanted to say, “Of course! This is a grammar lesson! If you don’t write it down, you’ll forget it!” Will was distractingly cute, but when it came to language skills, he really needed all the help he could get. But what she ended up saying was, “Um . . . yes?” She didn’t want to scare him off.

“Fine,” Will said. “Fine.”

As Will rummaged for his notebook, Elaine began. “Okay, we’ll start simply. What is the hypothesis in this conditional statement? ‘If Walt drops Katie’s books, he will pick them up.’”

Will stared at her as if she’d spoken in ancient Mycenaean Greek.

“A conditional statement is written as: if A, then B, where A is the hypothesis and B is the conclusion,” Elaine supplied helpfully.

“Okay . . . so you’re saying . . .” Will thought for a moment. “I need to pick up her books.”

It was Elaine’s turn to be confused. What was he talking about? “Let’s try another one.” She flipped through her text. “‘If Walt takes good advice, he will be a raging success.’”

Will nodded, thinking. “So . . . if Walt . . . listens to the right people . . .”

“Which will be me, naturally. Then the conclusion is . . . ?”

“Then . . . it’ll all work out for him. Success.”

Elaine held back a sigh of relief. Good. He got it. “Brilliant!” she exclaimed. “Confidence and decisiveness.”

“Confidence and decisiveness — that’s your advice?”

Elaine nodded. “Always. Let go of the past. Start fresh.”