Galloping Gold (12 page)

“Just because I know Sugarfoot,” Ann said modestly, but then she asked, “Want to hear my new plan?”

At first, their idea had been for the rider to gallop past the runner, tie Sugarfoot, then keep on running. That's what they'd done at practice that morning. But Ann suggested it would improve their time if, after dismounting, the rider didn't start running but waited to help the incoming runner to mount Sugarfoot.

“You really think that will make us faster?” Darby asked.

“Yep, especially if he gets excited around all of those other horses,” Ann said.

Darby thought Ann was wrong, but there were two reasons she didn't say so. First, she'd just finished saying Ann was best at strategy. She couldn't change her mind one minute later. Second, Ann had more at stake than anyone else on the racecourse, so she should make the big decisions.

Just in case.

 

Darby was nearly asleep when she heard a tap at her bedroom door. It had to be Jonah, and she immediately flashed on the scene she'd come upon in the living room. She didn't know what to think or how to feel about Aunty Cathy and Jonah sitting so close
together. Of course they were too old to be boyfriend and girlfriend.

He probably hadn't seen her, anyway, and his visit might have something to do with the horses, so Darby answered, “Come in?”

Jonah stood in the doorway a few seconds, as if locating the dark lump of her on the bed. “Earlier, what did you want?”

Okay, so he had seen me
. Darby swallowed hard, but the question she'd meant to ask Aunty Cathy could be asked of him, too.

Totally awake, now, Darby began, “Well, you know I'm not a gossip.”

Jonah chuckled. “If we're going to talk story, I'd better sit down.”

Her grandfather made his way farther into the room and sat on a corner of Darby's bed.

“It's just that, anyone can tell that there's something really wrong between Tyson and his dad.”

“I thought you didn't like that kid,” Jonah said, something sly in his tone.

Yuck, did he think she
like
liked Tyson? That was an idea she'd get rid of fast.

“I don't like him. He's a jerk, but Megan heard his dad say something about him going to jail.”

“And you don't want someone like that around your horses, yeah?” Jonah was still joking, but when Darby stayed quiet, Jonah sighed. “Tellin' you this means I trust you not to tell Megan, Ann—”

“—Or Cade, Pauli, or anyone. I won't. I promise,” Darby said.

“Those two already know, but I wouldn't strike up a conversation about it.”

Hmm. Cade and Pauli already knew.
How did that fit in with the fact that they'd both been a little too tolerant of him when he'd hurt Jewel?

“It's a short story, so don't interrupt,” Jonah said.

Darby held up her crossed fingers and her grandfather nodded.

“Tyson got caught up in Manny's web. The man had him sneaking into burial caves and stealing stuff. Manny did the selling. George found out, and let him have it.”

Darby wasn't sure what Jonah meant by that. Had George beaten his son, or Manny?

“After the police started following the money, turned out Tyson had some of it. He's on probation with the police, and his parents. Kid's got a lot of trust to rebuild.”

As Jonah stood up, the crackling of his knees reminded Darby her grandfather was old, and she would have reached out to hug him if he hadn't walked toward her door.

Then he stopped.

“George and Gemma are hard on him, yeah? But he's hard on them, too. George's gone from a quiet guy to a stone man. Gemma's always been feisty, but now she thinks everyone's out to get her. Spends all night
writing letters of complaint to stores, TV stations, and da kine.”

“So, it's not just the Potters,” Darby said, but Jonah didn't go on. “I mean, it wasn't that big a deal, falling off Soda. And she's talking about suing….”

“You California girls like to talk a man to death,” Jonah said. “Get some sleep.”

Her grandfather slapped his hand against the doorjamb like a judge concluding a trial, and then he was gone.

T
he next day, it was clear the boys had done some planning, too.

They didn't say anything about how pale beneath his suntan Tyson grew, trying to balance on Jewel's back. And no one mentioned the faint violet stain beneath his left eye or the fact that they'd given up any pretense of keeping running and riding time equal.

Since Tyson was the better runner and Pauli the superior rider, Tyson would ride only enough to qualify them as a team. Pauli, the rider Jewel trusted most, would ride as long as possible.

Tyson hadn't said a word all morning.

Even when Darby said, “So it's up to me and Tyson to do all the running,” he just sneered.

She'd expected that, but Darby hadn't expected Ann's reaction.

She looked ashamed.

And there were tears in her eyes.

Darby knew she was the only one who'd noticed, because Pauli was babbling about something entirely different.

“I was so bogus with my knot tying yesterday, I spent all night workin' on 'em,” Pauli promised. “This time they'll hold her for sure.”

Darby nudged Ann away from the group and apologized.

“I'm sorry. You know, I was kidding.”

“Yeah,” Ann said. “But I'm not running well at all.”

“Shut up,” Darby joked. “Besides, you should be doing all of the riding because you're like a, you know, like a
centaur
compared to me!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ann said, and even though she was clearly pleased, her smile looked forced.

 

Darby ran first, but she was no match for Tyson. He was out of sight in the first two minutes and Darby probably wouldn't have noticed George Mookini standing behind a screen of horse-high ferns, watching his son pass by, if Jewel hadn't shied.

Pauli calmed the horse in seconds, but Darby couldn't help glancing at the tall man. She could just make him out as he strode through the foliage, back toward the ranch.

No wonder Tyson had hoped for a ribbon or trophy to prove he'd done something right.

As long as Sugarfoot proved to those insurance people that he'd reformed, Darby thought she wouldn't mind if Tyson, Pauli, and Jewel came in ahead of them.

But then she settled back into running, rediscovering the fact that humming one of her mother's favorite songs kept her at the perfect pace.

When she came upon Sugarfoot dancing at the trailside, she was surprised that Ann wasn't with him, but she just jerked the quick-release knot Ann had used to secure his neck rope, mounted, and rode on.

“There she is,” Darby told the gelding.

Even though the rain-forest trail was level and shaded, Ann wasn't running. There wasn't a rock or vine to trip on, but Ann was moving little faster than a walk.

Darby flashed her friend a shaka sign as they passed by, and she tried to concentrate on riding steady and strong, but her mind replayed the image of Ann limping.

Sugarfoot picked up Darby's uneasiness. His gait faltered.

“No big deal,” Darby told the gelding. She leaned back a bit, balancing and steadying the paint's head with the reins as they descended a sudden downhill. She didn't look over her shoulder to see how Ann was doing, but she was glad they'd decided, the previous night, for the rider to wait for the runner and help her mount.

By the time Ann came out of the woods to the spot where Darby held Sugarfoot, the gelding was grazing steadily and Darby didn't stop him from taking a deep drink of water. There was no chance they'd catch up with the boys.

Ann's way of walking made Darby stare at the leg her friend favored, and a single glance told her Ann's soccer-injured knee was not only swollen, but sore.

“This was a stupid idea!” Ann shouted before she reached Darby.

Sugarfoot's head jerked up and grass fell from his mouth as he stared at Ann.

“Why did you just stand around waiting for me?” Ann accused. “Don't look at my leg! You could be a mile on down the trail and then Shug and I could catch you easily.”

“Last night, I thought that's what you said you wanted to do.”

“Well, maybe under normal circumstances, but look at me!” Ann said.

She'd just said
not
to look! Ann was silly with pain and Darby wanted to hug her, but she knew that wasn't what Ann needed right now.

“I didn't know…” Darby began, but the patience in her voice infuriated Ann even more.

“Just start running, okay?” Ann's voice cracked. “Go!”

Darby ran, but her pace was uneven, fractured with feelings.

How badly was Ann hurt? Should she be running at all? That very first day of school, when Megan had asked Ann if she was going to play soccer that season, Ann had said her parents had forbidden her from doing it.

Hadn't she said she'd suffered through three surgeries in two years? It was something like that, and now, when Ann needed her leg to work just right to save her horse, it was breaking down on her.

Hooves came up behind Darby. She glanced over in time to see Sugarfoot. Mane blowing, eyes sparkling, tail tilted up in high spirits, the paint was having the time of his life, but Darby noticed Ann's knee more than the gelding's fluid lope.

When practice was over, Ann climbed carefully from Sugarfoot, and Darby couldn't help staring at her knee. Shiny, hot, and red, it was swollen to about one and a half times bigger than its usual size.

“It doesn't hurt, now that I've been riding,” Ann said, “but I've got to hide it. Can I borrow some sweatpants or something before my dad gets here?”

“Sure,” Darby told her. She knew if Ann's parents saw that knee, they'd make her pull out of the race.

Darby didn't want to be even partly responsible for more damage to Ann's knee, but she also knew Ann would hate to hear that.

“Do you want to lean on me? Or, I bet I could carry you.” Darby's hands rested on her hips as she assessed her friend.

Ann stopped limping toward the house and laughed.

“Yeah, that wouldn't attract much attention.” Ann glanced toward Kimo, who was talking to Cade and Jonah. “I'll take care of myself. Promise,” Ann said. “I don't want this to be permanent, either.”

 

When Darby saw Kimo about to leave for the day, she couldn't help thinking about Tyson's black eye. Jonah had said not to tell anyone about Tyson's association with Manny, and she wouldn't, but if George Mookini had beaten Tyson, that was just too much.

“Hey,” Darby said, running to catch up with Kimo.

“Aloha,
keiki
, I'm goin' home to cook for my old man,” Kimo said.

“But wait,” Darby said. “It's about Tyson.”

“I thought you hated—”

Darby waved her hands, erasing whatever Kimo was thinking.

“I'm not taking his side,” she snapped, “but you saw his eye.”

“His eye?” Kimo looked startled.

“His black eye,” Darby said. “Do you think his dad hit him?”

Kimo thought for a minute, and though he tried to keep his expression bland, Darby would bet Kimo knew about Manny and Tyson, too.

“Pretty sure Mookini didn't give his boy a shiner,”
Kimo said, shaking his head slowly. “You better learn to read boys as well as you do horses.”

“What are you talking about?” Darby asked.

“Ask Pauli about that eye.”

“Pauli? He's Tyson's best friend!”

“Boys fight,” Kimo said, shrugging.

“But, what about—” Darby broke off. She couldn't say any more without breaking her promise to Jonah.

Kimo rolled his eyes, then said, “Two things goin' on here, and I gotta get home, so listen up, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Darby promised.

“First, Tyson's done stuff that shamed his dad. Second, some of his people are Chinese.”

“So?” Darby didn't like this conversation. Kimo acted like stereotypes about boys, and now Chinese people, were to blame for everything. But she listened.

“In the old days, the Chinese, here on the island, anyhow, they thought if you talked nice about your kids, some demon would come get them. So they'd never say anything nice. You could see the love in their eyes, but what came out of their mouths? ‘Why am I cursed with this ugly girl child, so clumsy and stupid?'” He wailed the words, aiming them at Darby.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“But see? What demon's going to snatch such a kid?” Kimo insisted. “Mo bettah that demon look for a bright little fella with a ‘my child is an honor student' bumper sticker on a pricey car, yeah?”

“I think I get it,” Darby said, and Kimo didn't give her time to change her mind. He flashed her a shaka sign and headed for his truck.

 

With four days left before the race, Darby and Ann tried to hide the injury, but things only got worse. No matter how she favored the leg, the knee twisted and she fell. Each new effort only made her knee more swollen and inflamed.

Megan was first to spot what was going on, but Pauli and Tyson were next.

“That's lookin' mal,” Pauli said, wincing at the sight of Ann's knee when she'd taken a break to elevate her leg on a pile of rocks to try to reduce the swelling.

Tyson stood silent behind Pauli as his friend showed off his own “knots,” as he called the calluses from kneeling on his surfboard.

“I'm not tellin' you how to run your life,” Tyson said to Ann, “but that's bad.”

“I'm fine while I'm riding,” Ann countered.

“If only one rider could do all the riding…” Megan began, and then finished, “it wouldn't be a ride-and-tie race.”

“Besides, I couldn't run a full twenty miles,” Darby said. “Ten is killing me.”

“It's a good thing Cade's been too busy to train with us the last couple of days,” Megan said. “He'd tell Kit or Jonah.”

“No, ya think?” Pauli asked.

“Absolutely,” Megan said. “If it weren't so close, I'd tell your parents myself.”

“Meggie, don't be such a—”

“I can't believe they haven't noticed on their own,” Megan said.

“Why don't you take over for me? Dr. Luke would understand,” Ann begged.

“I told him I'd do check-in, and I've got to do it,” Megan said, “and I already talked to Cade—”

“You what?” Ann yelped. “You asked Cade to ride on our team? So why do you think he doesn't know?”

“All I did was suggest that if something went wrong, maybe he could fill in, but he's too busy working off his half of Jewel's purchase price at the Hapuna stable. And he said he wouldn't ride against Jewel.”

“I know this isn't a perfect solution,” Ann said, “and you guys can tell me if you hate it, but what if we shorten our practices for the next two days? Then I wouldn't have to run again until race day, since we were already planning to take the day before off.”

“That's fine with me,” Megan said.

“Me too,” Darby said. “Hoku wants me to play with her more.”

“Lucky you. My mom's already a little cranky because I'm not spending enough time working in the office. It's a good thing your mom volunteered to bring stuff for the luau,” Megan said to Darby.

Darby smiled. “She's bringing lots of fruit—papaya, mangos, and oh, a surprise.”

“Takeout pizza?” Megan teased.

Darby smiled. The best thing she'd heard when her mother called back was that Jonah would never roast her pets.

“Okay with me to cut things short, too,” Pauli said. “I've been missing the brunch shift and those big-tippin' tourists.”

They all agreed, but it turned out their plan changed yet again.

Riding back toward Sun House, they encountered Aunty Cathy leading two guest riders. The guests, on Maggie and Charisma, were chatting happily, but Aunty Cathy rode Megan's rose roan, Tango, and the young mare was acting up worse than Darby had ever seen her since she'd been back in captivity.

“What's wrong with your horse?” Ann asked Megan.

Even from this distance, they could see Tango's flattened ears and flared nostrils.

“She wants to run, I guess,” Megan said, but she didn't sound satisfied with her diagnosis. “It's hard to tell from here, but it looks like she's got her back all humped up to buck.”

“Good thing your mom's a mondo rider,” Pauli said. He glanced up at Tyson, who was still astride Jewel. It hadn't taken long for him to learn that uneasiness spread quickly among herd animals like horses.

“Pig!” Ann yelled in warning as a wild pig burst through trailside foliage.

Sugarfoot reacted to the wild pig—which came toward them like a hairy black cannonball—by backing up at high speed. Darby darted out of the way, but she was close enough to see that when Ann closed her legs against Sugarfoot to drive him ahead calmly, he hopped forward.

Horse and rider would have recovered just fine if Jewel hadn't shied off the trail and blocked Sugarfoot's way.

Their collision sent both riders flying. Jewel stayed put, standing stiffly where she'd stopped as the pig plunged into the undergrowth on the other side of the trail. But when Sugarfoot started into a heavy curtain of vines, Darby bolted after him.

“You're not chasing that pig!” she yelled, then Darby glanced back. “Ann?”

Her friend rose gingerly from the ground, using a tree trunk for balance.

Darby sprinted after Sugarfoot, her head crowded with images of the rabid boar that had died in this forest. But she had to catch Sugarfoot. This close to the race, they couldn't allow the gelding to recall the fun of chasing.

He didn't go very far.

Darby was still running when she caught the smell of hot horsehide and heard the clack of hoof on rock behind her.

She stopped running and turned around to face Sugarfoot. He hadn't chased her. He'd followed, but
his attention was directed at the splattering sound of the pig, rolling in a mud puddle.