Christmas Treasure (The Saddle Club Super Edition, Book 7)
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Christmas is coming and Max wants Horse Wise to get in the holiday spirit. He announces that they are going to have Secret Santas, but there's a catch: You can't give something; you have to do something. It sounds like fun, until they draw names. Lisa gets Max. Carole gets Lisa. And Stevie gets Veronica.
Carole would love to do something for Lisa, but since they already do things for each other all the time, what? Meanwhile, Lisa has a lot of family visiting and they aren't giving her room to breathe--let alone do anything for Max. As for Stevie, she would love to do something to Veronica--but that wouldn't be in the holiday spirit. Suddenly, doing the "right thing" is really hard.
Bennefield’s, but she loved it. There was a huge grand piano in the living room with a full-length mirror beside it. The walls were filled with pictures of Ms. Bennefield in all the musicals she’d been in, and there were several shots of her with movie stars. On the table across the room was a glittery headdress made out of fake bananas and coconuts that she’d worn in some Broadway play, and just behind the piano, on a tall perch, sat Tootie, Ms. Bennefield’s gray cockatiel. “Hi, Tootie,” Stevie
on the pitch. As the song ended, her voice and Ms. Bennefield’s piano seemed to blend together perfectly. “Baaaarrrrkkkk!” Tootie’s squawk broke the silence. “Bravo!” he screeched. “Encore! Merry Christmas!” “Oh, Tootie,” Ms. Bennefield cried. “You’re absolutely right! That was wonderful!” She got up from the piano and gave Stevie a big hug. “I am so proud of you!” Stevie hugged her back. “I did sound pretty good, didn’t I?” “You sounded the best you ever have,” Ms. Bennefield said. “If you
wasn’t doing that she kept looking around the ring to see where you and Belle were.” Stevie made her eyes bug out. “You never know what can happen when your mind starts playing tricks on you.” Their usual waitress came over to the table, order pad in hand. “What’ll it be today, girls?” she asked. Then she looked at Carole. “Say, wasn’t that you in the paper this morning? And on TV last night? With the stolen toys?” Carole smiled. “Yes, that was me.” “Your dad’s the Marine in charge of that
she began. The words brought back wonderful memories of her mother, and it seemed to Carole that somehow her mother was right there with her. Everyone in the tack room was silent as Carole’s song floated through the air. Stevie and Lisa looked at each other and smiled. Suddenly Stevie caught sight of Deborah standing and listening at the tack room door. Deborah waited until Carole had finished her song, then motioned for Stevie to come to the door. “What are you guys doing?” she whispered as
cold. “You’re not going to believe this, Dad,” Lisa began, but she stopped when she saw both James and her father standing there, their eyes wide with amazement. “Good heavens!” cried Mr. Atwood. “Is everyone all right? Did the stove blow up?” “No, Richard, we’re fine,” gasped Mrs. Atwood, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. She took one look at Sarah Ross, who had a piece of clooty dumpling dangling from her hair, and began to laugh all over again. “I’m afraid it’s our fault,” giggled