Desert Dancer (13 page)

From someone else, “beast” might have sounded critical, but he so clearly liked the mare, Callie smiled.

“Yep, she's mine,” Callie said. “She just doesn't know it yet.”

“When do you plan to move her closer to home?” Dr. Scott asked.

Callie bit her lip. “I don't know. I'm working on a deal with my landlord. He has a field behind his house. Nothing's grazing in it but old, dead cars.” Callie shrugged, looking shy. “I thought if I offered to get them towed and, you know, kind of cleaned things up, he might not charge much to keep her there.”

Dr. Scott nodded. “Sounds like a plan, but you should make it soon. Horses need a herd, even if it's a herd of one and that one is you.” He pointed at Callie. “You'll never make her yours by boarding her twenty miles away.”

Callie's lip had turned white from the pressure of her front teeth. Sam hated seeing Callie's confidence drain away.

“You can work with her here. Right now, if you want,” Sam offered. Since she could tell Aunt Sue was trying to catch her eye to reprimand her, Sam stayed focused on the vet. “Do you think we should put her back in the round pen, Dr. Scott?”

“I've been thinking about that, and I'd like to see her try your new pen, here next to the barn.”

“Aren't you supposed to limit distractions when you work with mustangs?” Sam said, thinking about the new open-fenced pen. “You know, keep them focused on you.”

“As a rule, that's a good idea,” Dr. Scott agreed. “But this injury makes her feel weak and desperate. In there,” Dr. Scott said, pointing, “she'd be able to see out, and she might feel less trapped.”

“Okay,” Callie agreed. “I'm ready to start anytime.”

Aunt Sue's lips parted. Sam knew she was going to refuse.

Dr. Scott must have noticed, too.

“Let's start with the fish oil,” he suggested. He squinted into the depths of his vet's bag, then plunged his hand inside.

“That's the end of me,” Dallas said. “
Adios
, you all.”

In minutes, Callie sat sideways in the straw, rubbing a slick mixture on Queen's hoof until it was shiny and smelly.

Dr. Scott kept Aunt Sue in his peripheral vision. Sam could see him watching her, treating her like a head-shy horse. Little by little, he got her used to the idea of Callie touching Queen. Finally, he stretched and made another suggestion.

“Strangely enough, I don't have any other calls, just now,” said Dr. Scott. “I'll be glad to stay and supervise while Callie gets the mare used to her.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Aunt Sue asked. Then she noticed Dr. Scott's glance settle on the cinnamon rolls again.

Since he didn't seem bothered by the odd aroma of cinnamon mixed with fish oil, Aunt Sue extended the plate so that he could have seconds.

“I think it's better than good. I think it's a spectacular idea,” Dr. Scott said.

Then he helped himself not to a single roll, but, smiling, his fingers clamped to the blue pottery platter and he headed outside with the entire dozen.

S
am stood beside Dr. Scott, watching Callie stand just inside the new pen, talking to Queen.

Sam wondered whether the fish oil had made Queen's hoof feel better, or if she just felt more aware. Something had changed, because the mare danced in a high-stepping trot.

“What do you suppose?” Dr. Scott asked Sam. “That mare was ready to eat me, and she wanted a piece of you, too. But look, she's not the least bit angry now. Nervous, sure, but she doesn't want to hurt that girl.”

Dr. Scott concentrated as if the two before him were part of an experiment. Every few minutes, he grunted and said, “Hmm, interesting.”

Once Sam realized Callie was safe, she thought about Jake.

Payback time had arrived. She'd almost forgiven Jake for pumping water all over her on Dad and
Brynna's wedding day. And for being so protective. But he'd pushed her too far last night, implying she was to blame for Queen's escape.

That wasn't true and it wasn't fair. If anyone was to blame, it was him.

He'd been showing off by riding bareback through the sleet storm. If he'd had a saddle horn, he could have snubbed Queen alongside Tank and everything would have been just fine. He knew that, but he didn't want to face facts. So he'd blamed her.

Not only that; he'd refused to discuss it. Making Jake discuss anything was a chore. He was pure cowboy in that way.

But I'm pure cowgirl, and he ought to know that by now
. Sam smiled to herself. Maybe Jake needed some reminding.

She didn't care if he called her a brat, a troublemaker, or even a little monster, as he had once when they were practically babies and she'd hidden his boots after they'd gone wading in La Charla.

I can take anything Jake Ely can dish out,
Sam thought.

His high and mighty ways made her itch for revenge, and it would be best to act now, before school vacation ended and Dad and Brynna came home.

“The fewer witnesses, the better,” Sam mumbled to herself.

“What?” Dr. Scott pried his eyes off Queen and Callie to gawk at Sam.

“Nothing,” Sam said, then nodded toward the house. “I'll be back.”

The first thing she'd do was phone Quinn. If she knew Quinn, he'd be real irritated with Jake. Their dad had said Quinn should come check on Sam and Aunt Sue, but Jake had beaten him to the truck keys. So Quinn, not Jake, had shivered in the cold looking for cattle all night.

Rivalry ran high among the seven Ely boys. As the two youngest, Jake and Quinn always fought to keep the other in last place. This time, Quinn would get some help. From her.

Sam was already gloating as she came into the house. This was going to be so much fun.

The Christmas tree and Aunt Sue's herbal tea scented the house as Sam came inside. Blaze circled around her legs, then jumped up, trying to lick her face.

“Down, boy,” Sam said.

Aunt Sue was turning the Border collie into a pest. She insisted on keeping him inside, safe from coyotes and bad weather, but Blaze wasn't used to the confinement.

Sam gave Blaze a scratch behind his ears, trying to tell him she knew exactly how he felt. She'd risk a bit of danger for her freedom.

The thought stopped her.

She didn't want Aunt Sue shielding her from danger. The prospect of a headlong gallop, with the
wind in her face and sagebrush slipping by in a gray-green blur, was magnetic. For a minute, she wasn't worried about taking another fall.

Sensing a change in Sam's attitude, Blaze bumped against Sam and licked her hand.

If Callie hadn't been working with Queen, Sam would have freed the dog. But Blaze had shown so much interest in Queen, Sam knew he'd disrupt the bonding session.

“A couple more days, boy,” Sam said, then almost bit her tongue.

She was not eager for Aunt Sue to leave, and she would never try to hurt her feelings, but Aunt Sue's protectiveness had backfired. Both she and Blaze wanted things the way they'd always been on River Bend Ranch.

She was opening the cupboard for a dog cookie when she saw what Aunt Sue had left out for her. A pink bowl of onion dip sat on the kitchen counter, next to a basket of potato chips.

More junk food.

This was getting to be funny, Sam thought as she dunked a chip into the creamy dip.

“Thanks for the dip,” Sam called into the living room where Aunt Sue was stretched out on the couch, reading a book.

“You're welcome. It's not a particularly nutritious lunch, but how often do I get to spoil you?”

Sam shook her head and crunched another salty
chip. In San Francisco, they'd had some junk food, but not for every meal. It was a good thing Aunt Sue was only spoiling her for a week.

Sam closed the door to the living room a bit before she dialed Three Ponies Ranch.

“Hullo?” the deep voice was Quinn's.

Sam decided it was a good sign. Two parents and seven brothers lived in that house, and the one person she wanted to talk with had answered the phone.

She revealed her plan without any build-up.

Quinn loved her idea.

“You know what makes it perfect?” he asked.

“Tell me,” Sam urged.

“Jake's in town with mom. Something he got for Christmas didn't fit.”

“Cool,” Sam said.

“I could trailer Witch over to River Bend, but if you really wanted to make him crazy, you could ride over here, then pony her back. Make all kinds of detours on the way. He'd have to track you.”

“Quinn, you're a genius,” Sam said. She swallowed a giggle, hoping Aunt Sue wouldn't ask what was going on. “See you as soon as I can get saddled up and ride over.”

Sam had started upstairs to get her riding gloves when Aunt Sue peered over the top of her book.

“What's up?” she asked.

As casually as she could, Sam told Aunt Sue she needed to pick up a horse at Three Ponies Ranch.
That was true. She explained the ride would take about an hour and a half, round trip. That was true, too. What she didn't mention was the fact that she was stealing Jake's mare, Witch.

Acting like a horse thief, even as a joke, wasn't the sort of thing Aunt Sue would understand.

Sam waited for Aunt Sue's protest, but it never came. Just when you thought you had adults figured out, they broke their pattern.

Sam took advantage of Aunt Sue's preoccupation. While she was still engrossed in her book, Sam escaped.

She wished she had an accomplice. If Jen had been home, Sam would have asked her to go along. Jen would appreciate this prank, since it was aimed at Jake.

Her two best friends didn't get along because both thought they were pretty darn smart. They were, of course, but they couldn't bear the idea that Sam believed they were
equally
smart.

Sam didn't disturb Callie. She slipped into the barn.

“You're moving all over the place, today, huh, boy?” Sam asked as she led Ace out of his pen and tied him to a ring for a good brushing.

Dad always said you'd save time in the long run if you spent time grooming your horse. Not only did you notice any little bump or bruise before it became a problem, but grooming restored horses' circulation,
he said, and made them eager for the ride.

When Sam stroked Ace's back with the soft body brush, the little gelding loved it. He stretched like a cat, then extended his glossy neck and stuck out his tongue.

“You silly boy,” Sam said, smoothing her hand down Ace's back.

He tossed his head, then looked back at her. His black forelock parted to show a white star and mischievous eyes.

Ace was ready to go. His mouth opened for the bit before she asked and he didn't stamp as she buckled the cinch. Tail and neck arched, he pranced at the end of the reins, pretending he didn't want her to mount, but Sam didn't believe him. He was only acting like a happy horse.

“Save a little energy for Witch,” Sam warned Ace, but she wasn't worried. Ace and Witch had always worked together well. She knew today would be no different.

 

It was a perfect day for riding.

Last night's storm might never have happened. Winter sun had dried up all but the deepest puddles and the wind carried the fresh scent of sage.

Ace was in high spirits, so Sam had to pay attention, but she kept cutting her eyes to the right. She held her gelding at a jog, scanning the foothills that grew into the Calico Mountains. Somewhere up
there, she might see a silver stallion.

Sam felt Ace tremble, just before he turned in the direction she'd been looking and slowed to a stop.

Her fault. Horses went where you aimed them, usually. Sam told herself to pay attention, but when Ace kept pulling at the bit and dancing in place, she knew something else was going on.

Then she spotted the Phantom. As usual, Ace had spotted him first.

The Phantom didn't move, didn't neigh, didn't stir a cloud of dust. He was as still as a toy horse. When she'd seen him like this before, he'd been watching over his herd. But the hillside below him was empty. This time he was alone.

Ace bolted toward the stallion.

Sam slammed back, then forward with the gelding's momentum. Oh no, that was all wrong. In taking her weight off his back, she was practically telling Ace to run. She sat hard in the middle of her saddle, tightened her legs, and yanked her reins. Another stupid move. Ace felt the pressure of her knees as a sign of encouragement and just pulled harder.

The ground ahead was dark. Here at the base of the foothills, it was wet from storm runoff. She had to slow Ace before she got that far. To do that, she had to stop making stupid beginners' mistakes.

Ace wasn't lined out in a full run, yet. He'd obey if she just gave instructions he understood.

Sam took a deep breath. She sat deep in the saddle, but didn't clamp her knees. She found herself drawing in, concentrating on her shoulders, ribs, hands. Ace faltered a step and she snugged her reins. He shook his head, even though the reins weren't that tight. He was listening.

Fear drained away as the gelding slowed. Sam sighed and realized she wasn't afraid. Her pulse was still pounding, and she felt cautious, but that was okay.

She'd handled this little problem. Deep in her mind, she had all the directions Gram and Dad had given her when she was learning to ride. And the rules worked.

All the same, Sam's hands were shaking by the time Ace stopped. He blew through his lips and looked back the way they'd come. He shook his coarse black mane and stamped.

“Don't act like
I
made us do this,” she scolded him. “You saw him first.”

Sam searched the hills again. Of course the stallion was gone. As usual, Sam's heart was torn in two by having seen him. His beauty and wildness excited her and made her glad he counted her as his friend. But she knew he was safer far away.

“Ready to keep going?” Sam asked Ace.

He lowered his head to munch some pale December grass.

“Excuse me?” Sam said, jiggling the reins as a
reminder. “It's not dinnertime, fella.”

Ace gave a bored sigh and shuffled into a jog as if this entire detour had been all her idea.

 

When Sam reached the Three Ponies Ranch, Quinn and Witch stood waiting. Quinn's horse, Chocolate Chip, was fully saddled and ground-tied nearby. Sam would bet Quinn and Chip had just chased the mare down to bring her in from pasture.

Sam had rarely seen Witch unsaddled. In only a halter, Jake's Quarter horse mare was beautiful. Her coat shone the blue-black of a crow's wing. Her roached mane stood up in a crest, baring her powerful neck. Holding her coiled halter rope was Quinn.

“She looks great,” Sam said.

“She's pretty, but she's lazy. When she sees a rider setting out to get her, she's afraid she'll have to work. She takes off, and to tell you the truth, she can run the legs off every horse on the ranch. Except Chip,” Quinn boasted. “He's the only horse that can catch her, and he did it again today.” Quinn made a smooching sound toward Chip. The gelding looked up, eagerly. “He's her full brother, you know.”

The two horses had identical confirmation. Only their coats were different. Sam noticed that wasn't true for the two human brothers.

Quinn was almost the opposite of Jake. Jake's hair was long and bound with a leather tie. Quinn's hair stuck up in a short, porcupine-sharp crew cut.
Jake had his father's wide shoulders and muscular arms. Quinn was thin like his mother.

Once Gram had called Quinn a “string bean” and Sam had never forgotten the description, because it fit Quinn perfectly.

Only the boys' dark Shoshone eyes showed Quinn and Jake were brothers.

Witch greeted Ace with snorts and a stamp, but Quinn was in too much of a rush to be polite. He moved with bony energy inside his rust-colored fleece jacket, lurching forward, before Sam could dismount.

“Hurry,” he said, pushing the halter rope into Sam's gloved hand. “Mom just called to say they were starting back.”

Sam tried to calculate how long she had to ride home. The school bus took about forty minutes to travel from the bus stop nearest River Bend Ranch, down the highway to the high school in Darton. The mall was only a few miles past school and Mrs. Ely drove a speedy dark-green Honda.

Jake would be home in thirty minutes, at the most.

“I'll have to go the back way if I don't want him to see me riding along the road,” Sam said.

“Good call,” Quinn said.

Sam waved good-bye and started toward the ridge that ran behind the Three Ponies, River Bend, and Gold Dust ranches. Witch seemed willing to be ponied alongside Ace with no complaints.

“Wait!” Quinn called, suddenly. “What am I supposed to tell them?”

“I don't know,” Sam shouted back. Since Witch was behaving, she didn't want to stop.

She felt a pinch of worry, though. She knew why she and Quinn hadn't already formulated some fib. They were both honest kids. Mostly.