Horse Fever Read Free Page A

uncomfortable.
    “Could it get any worse?” Stevie muttered, shortening her reins. “I’m sore already, from the warm-up.”
    “At least we’re not riding without stirrups,” Lisa whispered.
    As if he had heard her, Max looked right at the two of them and said, “No, wait a minute. First everyone drop his or her stirrups.
Then
pick up a sitting trot.”
    Lisa and Stevie groaned in unison before doing what they’d been told.
    Across the ring Carole murmured, “Darn! Darn, darn, darn!” This just wasn’t her day. She had been so busy reading
Horseman’s Weekly
that she had completely forgotten about giving Starlight a prelesson warm-up. Now he was paying her back by spooking at every shadow and speck of dirt. Steeling herself, Carole took her feet out of the stirrups, which she crossed over Starlight’s neck. Sure enough, the minute she picked up a trot, he got faster and faster, as if to say, “I hate dressage! When can we jump?”
    “Have you been longeing him, Carole?” Max called.
    Carole had no choice but to shake her head. “I—I haven’t had time,” she said, though she knew it was a lame excuse.
    “Make time, Carole,” Max said sternly. “You know how fit he is. You’ve got to take the edge off.”
    Carole said nothing, only nodded. The sole response she could have made was: “I know! I know!” As she rounded the corner of the ring near the stalls, Starlight plunged forward and gave a small buck. All at once Carole was fed up. Outwardly she remained calm; she was far too good a horsewoman to take out her frustration on her horse. She straightened him out and brought him back to a steady trot. But inwardly she wished she were mounted on a horse who
liked
these drills, who liked dressage, who didn’t need eight jumps in front of him to get down to work …
    “Lisa, your seat belongs in the saddle, not on Prancer’s neck. Simon, tighten your reins, they’re flopping all over the place. Stevie—
Stevie
!” Max sounded irate. “Did you hear me say
drop
your stirrups?”
    “Yes,” came Stevie’s faint reply.
    “
Then why are your feet in yours?”
Max demanded.
    “Because my legs are killing me!” exclaimed Stevie, to the delight of the rest of the class.
    “After five minutes?” Max asked doubtfully.
    “Yes! Belle’s trot is so bouncy! Couldn’t we canter?”
    “Blame your own fitness, Stevie, not your horse’s gait.”
    “But Max,” Stevie pleaded, “five minutes on her is like … half an hour on another horse!”
    “Well, then, I suppose half an hour is like three hours. You can let me know if I’m right at the end of the lesson,”Max added, a glint in his eye. As Stevie moaned, Max dragged a few trotting poles into place and laid them on the ground. “All right. Starting with Simon, assume jumping position, turn down the center line, and trot over the poles.”
    A T THE END of the lesson, Max summoned the riders into the center of the ring. “There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
    “I’ll never walk again,” Stevie muttered.
    “Any questions?”
    Simon Atherton put up a hand.
    “Yes?”
    “Why did we use trotting poles in a dressage lesson?” Simon asked. “I thought they were for warming up before jumping.”
    “Good question. Who can answer it?”
    Several hands were raised.
    “They’re good for lengthening and shortening stride,” Andrea said.
    “Right. Who else?”
    “They make the horses pick up their feet?” Lisa guessed.
    “Ye-es, okay: They make the horses pay attention and move more alertly,” said Max. “Anyone else? Carole?”
    Carole looked up from Starlight’s mane. “What?Sorry?” Brooding over her and Starlight’s poor performance, she had missed the question.
    Max repeated it. “Give us a very basic answer.”
    “Hmmm … I guess they would make the lesson more interesting?” Carole ventured.
    “That’s right. It’s very important to vary your schooling routine,” Max explained. “You shouldn’t just get on