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brothers bounce some more spitballs off the back of my head in return for early parole back home.
    Lesser people in my position would have given way to despair by now, but I, Stevie Lake, am determined to triumph over my tormentors. I will rise above, and, failing that, I will take them all down in flames with me! Ha ha ha ha!
    Be sure to write me soon. I can’t wait to hear more about the great time you two are having.
    Stevie paused with her finger hovering over the Save button. Did that last bit sound insincere? She quickly scanned the e-mail again, then added:
I’ve done my best to hide the true extent of my misery. After all, I wouldn’t want to ruin your vacation. It would obviously be too upsetting for the three of you to read how miserable I really am. I’m holding back some of the gorier details. Love, Stevie.
    There was a knock on her hotel room door and hermother poked her head in. “Stevie, are you about finished? It’s almost time to go meet the Sinclairs for lunch.”
    “Awww, Mom, do I have—”
    “Yes, you do,” her mother replied firmly, cutting her off. Her eyes opened wide. “You’re not even dressed!”
    Stevie looked down at herself. She was wearing her favorite jeans, sneakers, and a comfortable shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “What do you mean?”
    “Why aren’t you wearing one of the new outfits I got you?”
    Stevie cringed. Her mother had actually bought her a twin set—a short-sleeved sweater with a matching long-sleeved sweater to put over it. She’d look like the school librarian if she wore that. “I was saving them for an important occasion.”
    “Meeting your cousins for the first time in ages, in preparation for a wedding,
is
an important occasion,” her mother informed her through gritted teeth.
    Stevie looked sullenly at the floor.
    “Please, honey,” her mother coaxed. “You know Dava will give you a hard time if you show up like that. You don’t want to give her any ammo, do you?”
    That hit home. Stevie was definitely reluctant to let Dava hold anything over her. In fact, the more sheconsidered it, this luncheon might be the perfect opportunity to set her cousin straight on some of the uglier facts of life. Maybe she could even sic her twin brother, Alex, on the girl.
    “Do it for your father and me, won’t you?”
    Stevie began to peel off her clothes. “Okay, Mom. I wouldn’t want to let our side of the family down.” She grinned wickedly into the inside of her tank-top.
After all, I have a reputation to maintain.
    C AROLE FOLLOWED K ATE through the dense forest, her horse picking his way easily along the narrow trail. The air was scented with the smell of pine, and the rhythmic sound of Berry’s hooves striking the ground was almost hypnotic. A mile or so back they had left the flatlands and were now going up a steep incline. Every once in a while the trees and shrubbery would thin enough for the girls to catch a breathtaking view of the surrounding mountains and valley below. Carole sighed happily. “You are so lucky,” she told Kate. “Look where you get to live.”
    “Look how she gets to ride,” Lisa said. “I almost feel like I’m cheating when I ride Western.”
    Carole nodded. “Me too. This big old saddle is kind of like an easy chair, and since we get to keep ourstirrups longer than in an English saddle, there isn’t as much strain on the legs and back.”
    “That was exactly the idea when they developed Western riding,” Kate explained. “The pioneers had to travel long distances on horseback, so they made it as comfortable and practical as possible.”
    Carole was watching Stewball ambling along in front of her. “The horses even seem to move differently from those back home.”
    “A trail horse’s paces were developed for maximum comfort. Their gaits are smooth and flat, so the horse uses a lot less knee and hock action. Most other kinds of riding encourage horses to put spring and tension in their paces. It looks prettier,