“So do you really think you can pull it off? Hide the whole Stacie thing from your mom?” Tommi asked.
“We’ll find out, I guess.” Zara was tired of talking about it. It was bad enough she had to live it. “Anyway, I figured I’d better come see my horses just in case I end up grounded for life or something.”
Fitz grinned. “Whatever.” He gave a light tug on the lead line as the tall, skinny chestnut gelding stretched his long neck toward the grass growing beside the path. “Come on, Kate, let’s get our big boy inside and cleaned up.”
“Yeah.” Kate smiled and rubbed the horse’s face as it turned and nuzzled at her. She looked even spacier than usual, and Zara wondered if she’d heard anything the rest of them had said in the past five minutes.
The barn’s big double doors were standing open to catch whatever stray breeze might wander through to help the fans beat back the stifling August heat. Zara hung back to let the horse and his little band of groupies enter the barn first, then peeled off in the direction of Keeper’s stall.
“Later,” she called to the others, not bothering to wait for a response. Even though she was starting to think of them as friends, at least sort of, she didn’t like to count on them feeling the same. Too easy to get knocked on your ass that way, and she had enough problems right now as it was.
As she rounded the corner, Zara checked her watch. Two thirty already. She’d have to hurry if she wanted to squeeze in a ride today. Or maybe she should just feed Keeper a few carrots and call it a day. She definitely wanted to be there when her mother got home that evening. Not that she had any clue what she was going to tell her this time …
“Zara! Oh good, you’re here!”
Zara winced. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Summer rushing toward her with a big, goofy grin on her face.
Summer skidded to a stop beside her. “Where were you yesterday?” she exclaimed. “You totally missed my big news! I’m having a Sweet Sixteen party at the Washington Crossing show! We’re renting out, like, half the old mansion, and there’s going to be a band and, like, a million guests and really awesome food and—”
“Yeah, I heard,” Zara cut her off, putting as much excitement as she felt into her voice. Exactly none.
As usual, Summer didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, you heard about it already? That’s cool.” She beamed. “I guess word spreads fast around here. Especially huge news like this, right? Anyway, you probably heard that, like, the whole barn is invited. But I wanted to make sure to invite you personally, you know? Oh! And there are going to be lots of adults there and stuff, so, like, if your parents wanted to come they’re totally welcome, too.”
Yeah. Of course they were. Zara could only imagine how over-the-top, wet-her-pants psyched Summer would be if Zac Trask and Gina Gerard showed up at her dorky little birthday bash.
“Better not alert the paparazzi on that one,” Zara told Summer. “They’ve both made plans to be in other countries to avoid your party.”
“What?” Summer’s smile faltered. Zara could almost see the little wheels in the girl’s head turning as she tried to figure out whether Zara was joking.
Even though Summer was getting on her nerves as usual, Zara felt a flash of guilt. A tiny one, anyway.
“Kidding. Duh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But yeah, they’ll both be out of town then.”
“Oh.” Summer giggled. “Good one, Zara! You’re coming though, right? I mean, you’ll be at the show already, so obviously you’ll come. Right?”
Before Zara had to answer, there was a sudden shout from the other end of the barn. It sounded like Fitz.
“What’s going on?” Zara wondered. “Hope the new racehorse didn’t decide the wash stall looked like a starting gate.”
“I know, right?” Summer wrinkled her nose. “What was Fitz thinking, bringing some scrawny half-trained thing like that into the barn?”
Not really the point, but Zara didn’t bother explaining. “Let’s go see what’s up.”
She headed down the aisle, not bothering to see if Summer was following. The wash stalls were located in the center block of the barn at the opposite end from the feed room. They consisted of several large, airy bays with drains in the floor and hoses on overhead booms.
At the moment only one of the stalls was occupied. Fitz’s new Thoroughbred was watching with pricked ears as Fitz, Kate, and Tommi surrounded someone in the aisle just outside the stall. Zara’s eyes widened when she saw who it was.
“Dani!” she blurted out in surprise. “Whoa, didn’t think we’d see her around here so soon.”
“No kidding,” Summer said. Then she rushed forward, shoving Kate aside to grab Dani. “Oh wow, Dani! Welcome back!”
Dani grinned sheepishly, leaning on one crutch to awkwardly return Summer’s hug. “Hi, Summer. I figured I’d better stop in and show you all I’m still alive,” she joked. “I also want to visit Red and let him know it wasn’t his fault and I still love him.” When she noticed Zara behind Summer, she lifted one hand. “Hey, Zara,” she added. “You totally missed my involuntary dismount yesterday.”
“Yeah, I heard it was pretty spectacular.” Zara stared at Dani’s cast, which covered her left leg from just above her toes to just below the knee. “You okay?”
“She got a nine on the somersault from the Russian judge, but then completely blew the landing,” Fitz said.
“Very funny.” Dani stuck out her tongue at him.
“Don’t listen to him. We’re all glad to see you,” Kate said softly. Shooting Dani a smile, she ducked under the cross-ties and started working on the horse’s far side with a sweat scraper.
“So Marissa said you had to have surgery,” Summer said to Dani.
“Yeah, that was fun.” Dani grimaced. “But I guess it went okay. I’m not supposed to put any weight on it for a while, but the doctors say I should be okay in about six weeks.”
“Six weeks? That’s not too bad,” Tommi said. “You could be back in the saddle in time for Harrisburg.”
“I hope so.” Dani leaned on her crutches. “Anyway, I’ll probably need all six weeks to convince my parents that I’m not going to—”
“There you are!” a loud voice rang out, cutting her off.
A girl Zara had never seen before stomped toward them. She was about their age, with overprocessed reddish-brown hair and hoochie-mama cutoffs. The girl ignored Zara and the others, her angry gaze focused on the horse in the wash stall. She jabbed a finger at it.
“I can’t believe you stole him right out from under me!” she yelled.
Kate took a step out of the stall, gripping her sweat scraper so hard her knuckles were white. “Nat!” she exclaimed.