Bridle Path by Bonnie Bryant Page B

seemed like enough time, but an hour definitely was not. When Mrs. Reg broke her pattern and arrived at 7:30, the girls were upset. The whole tack room was still filled with flowers, and the grape arbor wasn’t! They hoped against hope that Mrs. Reg wouldn’t make her usual morning rounds to check everything, and they worked as quietly as mice.
    Stevie cracked open the door to the tack room so they could hear when Mrs. Reg might be coming their way. Instead, they got quite a surprise. The person with her was Dorothy DeSoto.
    “Probably here to sign the papers to sell Geronimo,” Carole whispered. That seemed logical, but it didn’t explain the fact that there was a distinct sound of crying coming from Mrs. Reg’s office. Was Dorothy
that
fond of Geronimo? She’d be able to come and visit him anytime. This didn’t make sense.
    The girls strained to listen. The words were muffled and the message was unclear. They heard things like: “Nothing’s working … Mother … disappointed … all the guests … all the
presents
 … I can’t believe it … six whole weeks!” The girls didn’t likethe sound of this at all. They leaned toward the door of the tack room so they could hear better.
    Pretty soon they dropped all pretense of working with their flowers and moved toward the tack-room door to hear better. That wasn’t quite good enough. They opened the door wider.
    “… cancel the caterer … minister going on vacation … love him so!”
    They stepped out into the hall.
    “… honeymoon … Acapulco … Oh, Mrs. Reg, I just can’t stand it!”
    That was enough. The girls just had to know. Without a word among them, they walked into Mrs. Reg’s office.
    There was Dorothy DeSoto and a whole box of tissues, most of which seemed to have been used and scattered on the floor. Her face was red from crying. It occurred to Lisa that they might be interrupting something rather private, but such thoughts rarely crossed Stevie’s mind. She barged right in.
    “What happened?” she asked.
    “It’s Camilla,” Dorothy began, but then she was overwhelmed with tears.
    “I thought she was going to be all right,” said Lisa. “It’s just a dislocated shoulder, isn’t it?”
    “Did something happen to Elementary?” Caroleasked. It would certainly occur to Carole first that the problem might be equine, rather than human.
    Dorothy took a deep breath, wiped away two more tears, and tried to explain the situation. “No, they’re both okay. I mean, sort of. Yes, Camilla dislocated her shoulder and she’ll be fine—in
six
weeks. And Elementary is just fine. This morning he was his usual calm, steady, professional self, so we’ll never know what was going on in his mind last night.”
    Just the act of having to explain seemed to have set Dorothy on the road to recovery. She sniffed and wiped as she spoke, but at least she was talking.
    “The problem is that Camilla won’t be able to ride for six weeks, and the team is competing in some very important shows during those particular six weeks, and they just can’t be a person short. That means that they have to use the alternates, but there are only two qualified alternates at this time, and one of them is eight months pregnant, so she can’t ride at all.”
    “So, what about the other one?” Lisa asked.
    “The other one was to replace Nigel while we”—here the tears started tumbling again, but Dorothy continued in spite of them—“got married and went on our honeymoon!” The final word overwhelmed her.
    “I think I get the picture here,” Lisa said, sorting it out for her friends. “Because Camilla can’t ride, Nigel
has
to. He could probably beg off, but that would be unprofessional, and Nigel is very professional.”
    Dorothy nodded vigorously.
    “So the problem is that Dorothy’s wedding is scheduled to take place on Long Island next weekend, and it will be missing only one thing: the groom!”
    The tears continued.
    “Why