Golden Ghost (12 page)

“I'm going to go change so we can go to Nugget,” Jen shouted.

“Fine,” Lila said, but she didn't turn around.

Sam had no idea how she was going to talk with Lila. Actually, it didn't look like it would be necessary. Just the same, she felt better talking.

“The ghost town project is going really well,” Sam told Jen's mother. “It's kind of a cool little place. There's an old schoolhouse, a general store, a saloon—”

“I know.” Lila's voice had a kind of finality that said she really didn't want to hear any more.

Sam heard a squeak of wood on wood. That had to be the drawer. But Lila's head was almost inside a cabinet.

Steps sounded on the ladder outside. Sam felt her pulse speed up. Just because he was coming down from the roof didn't mean he was coming inside, did it?

“Hurry up, Jen!” Sam shouted in the general direction of the hall.

Lila looked over her shoulder with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “I have to be home kind of early today, and I'm not riding Ace. I'm riding Strawberry, our old roan, and she's cranky. I have no idea how she's going to get along with Silly….” Samlet her voice trail off. Not only was she babbling, she'd heard the front door open. Jed stamped his feet as he came inside.

Oh no. Oh
no
.

Jed didn't turn into the kitchen; he stalked through the living room toward the hall.

“What in the…?” Jed roared.

“Dad, it's no big—” Jen's voice drifted down the hall.

“Lila! Lila, get in here and look at your daughter going through the cash drawer!”

Hands clasped together as she ran, Jen's mother hurried from the kitchen. Sam stayed where she was, listening in helpless horror.

“Dad, no! That's not it, I'm—”

Tell him, Jen. Tell him. Please tell him
.

Sam recited the words silently, but she didn't dare shout them as she wanted to.

“I'm resigning today,” Jed shouted. “Look at what this family's come to!”

“Dad, I was just looking for something.” Jen's voice was calm, as if the sudden appearance of her mother had settled her.

“Jed, neither of us is hurting for money. We have what we need.” Lila's voice lowered to a hiss as she said, “Maybe it's all in your head.”

“Maybe I'm sick of living under Slocum's thumb!”

“Fine.” Lila sounded almost relieved. “Then say that. Don't say you're doing it for us, because we love our life here.”

Jed came pounding back through the house, ignoring his wife's pleas. He glanced toward Sam with a cold fury that told her she'd better follow him out.

He opened the door, then called back over his shoulder.

“You're not going anywhere, Jennifer.”

“But Dad, I didn't do anything.”

“You caused this whole mess!”

“I didn't!” Jen's voice was heartbroken, and Sam felt the injustice of Jed Kenworthy's punishment as if it were her own.

He slammed the door.

“Mom? I didn't cause it, did I?” Jen asked.

“No, of course not. But you'd still better stay,” Lila said, wearily.

“But I can't. I
can't
!”

“Of course you can. Sam will finish up for you.”

Sam's heart leaped up. She could get Jake to help. He could track down the palomino. They could bring her back here and maybe, just maybe Jen was right. Maybe Jed's anger would melt when he saw the golden mare.

“Sam, don't do it,” Jen cautioned. “Don't do my part. Do you understand me?”

“But I could,” Sam began, and then Jen was standing right in front of her.

Tears ran from beneath her glasses and her face was flushed, but Jen was just as determined as she'd been all along.

“Don't do my part.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “I think I'd better go, though.”

“I don't blame you,” Jen said.

“Jennifer,” Lila said in a cautioning tone.

“I don't. I wish I could go, too,” Jen's voice broke
into sobs and she ran into her room and slammed the door.

Sam couldn't wait to get outside, but Lila was walking toward her.

“I'm so sorry, Samantha,” Lila said.

As she walked Sam to the door, Lila took a quick look around the living room and Sam remembered how Brynna's wedding dress had been cut and pinned in this room.

With a sad smile, it looked as if Lila was remembering the same thing.

“It's loud, but not hopeless,” Lila said. “Believe it or not, Jed is coming around. But what on earth
was
Jen looking for in there, I wonder.”

Sam felt hot with guilt, but since Lila hadn't asked her a direct question and since Jen was certainly listening, Sam just shrugged and slipped outside.

Jed was up the ladder, pounding harder than before as Sam mounted Strawberry and rode away.

S
am and Strawberry left the Gold Dust Ranch at a gallop. After two or three minutes, Sam couldn't stand the bite of freezing air rushing through her lungs. Then she realized she had nothing to run away from. She slowed Strawberry to a lope, a jog, and then eased her down to a walk.

It was about time to decide where she was going, anyway.

“Whoa, girl,” Sam said. She held Strawberry at a stop while she opened her saddlebag and pulled out the wool gloves she'd used to protect the glass lens of her flashlight. It was a tricky operation, donning gloves when her horse wanted to head for home, but it was worth it. “Oh, better. Much better.”

If she kept Strawberry headed in this direction, she'd reach Nugget in twenty minutes or so. But the only thing left to do in Nugget—since Jen wouldn't accept her help with Golden Rose—was draw the
map. And she didn't need to return to Nugget for that. She already had a rough sketch of the town and details showing where she'd found the artifact.

She could draw a polished version of the map tonight, at home, after she'd reassembled the newspaper article as much as possible. If she let Strawberry have her way, they'd be home in minutes and she could finish off her homework before sundown.

That's what she should do. And it's what she would have done if the Phantom hadn't come to her for help.

Sam looked at her watch. It was just a few minutes after noon. She wasn't expected home until four o'clock.

She could ride into Lost Canyon. That's where he and the palomino had come from yesterday, after all. But she wouldn't explore the canyon. She'd take the zigzag path down to Arroyo Azul and ride along the sand spit until she found the passageway through the mountains to the Phantom's secret valley.

School resumed tomorrow. Classes certainly cut into her riding time.

Yep, she should go. Right now. But she didn't.

There were lots of logical reasons she should ride into Lost Canyon, and only one cowardly reason she shouldn't. The last time she'd been there, a mountain lion had tried to kill her.

But the lion was gone. And she wasn't a coward.

Sam turned Strawberry toward Lost Canyon.
The mare showed her disagreement by giving a snort and pulling against the reins.

Strawberry remembered. On the day of the attack, she'd been riding Strawberry.

“All the same, we're not going home just yet, girl.”

With stiff steps and tossing head, Strawberry kept arguing.

Could the mare remember exactly what had spooked her? Or was Strawberry simply responding to her rider's nerves?

Sam exhaled. She made her leg muscles relax and flexed her wrists, one at a time.

“I'm sympathetic,” Sam said to the mare. “But I'm not taking no for an answer. I'm in the saddle, so I get to decide. And I decide giddyup.” She clucked and grudgingly, Strawberry broke into a jog.

But not for long.

The canyon was literally freezing cold and Sam had to slow Strawberry to keep her from slipping. As they walked, Sam searched for the Phantom. She listened, but she also realized she was reaching out to him in some silent, seeking way that had nothing to do with normal senses.

He wasn't there. She just knew she wouldn't see the stallion in the cold and shadowed Lost Valley.

Strawberry was hyperalert, too, but not as if she sensed other horses.

She was scared. Her head swiveled from side to side, ears pricked forward to catch the slightest
sound. Her nostrils flared, testing every gulp of air for danger.

“Everything's fine, girl,” Sam told her. “We'll be out of here soon.”

Even though the Phantom wasn't here, Sam had to go to his secret valley. She wanted to check on the herd.

Evidence of the cold was everywhere. Where Dark Sunshine had lapped water seeping from a crack in a rock wall, there was a sheen of ice. Snow clumped on the edges of the path where she and Jake had faced down an armed wild horse rustler. Sam tried to sort through memories other than those of the cougar.

When she looked over the edge into the canyon yawning on her left, she didn't take time to admire the sandstone shelves. In autumn, the canyon had reminded her of an amphitheater. Now she only searched for the path down to the river.

There it was.

Deer hooves, with graceful, inward-curving tips, had stamped through the snow into the dark sand underneath.

“Just walk where they did,” Sam told Strawberry.

Strawberry set her hooves on the path and slowly angled downward. When the steep descent made the mare go faster down the rock-strewn trail, Sam kept her reins snug. If she lost contact with Strawberry's
mouth, the mare would bolt into a gallop and they'd both be in trouble.

I wish we could run
, Sam thought, then concentrated on breathing evenly.

The pounce had come from behind. Sam remembered the wet leather smell of the cat and rotting meat stench of his breath as he'd knocked her off Strawberry.

The young cougar was gone, though. He'd been transported to another canyon. She had nothing to fear, but it helped to study the floor of the canyon as it drew nearer.

The water in the bottom of Arroyo Azul looked like a single slash of blue ink. The thought had barely crossed her mind when Strawberry overreached. In a heartbeat, metal horseshoes and icy rocks combined to make her slip.

Strawberry neighed wildly, yanking her head to the right. She wanted to circle. She wanted to make sure no cat lurked just behind, planting his paw prints inside those cut by her hooves.

“It's okay, girl,” Sam told the mare. “We're all right.”

But all Sam could think was:
We almost weren't. We nearly fell. And no one knows where we are.

Once they reached level ground, Sam let Strawberry drink. Three times, the roan took quick sips, then raised her head, but finally, she blew through her lips and Sam felt the mare loosen beneath her.

When she thought Strawberry was ready for another challenging experience, she opened her saddlebags and touched her flashlight. She wanted both hands free to handle Strawberry, but she wanted to know exactly where to reach for the flashlight in case she needed it.

As she rode the mare up the riverbed, she decided to see how Strawberry did in the darkness. She might do better. Didn't you blindfold a horse to lead it out of a fire? If the horse couldn't see something scary, maybe it wouldn't panic.

At last they reached the tunnel. Sam blinked in the darkness, trying to focus even though she knew she couldn't. Strawberry was cooperative and confident as she moved through the blackness.

Out of the wind, with tons of rock all around, it was warmer. Sam tried to be glad of the improved temperature, but she could never completely push away a fear of earthquakes.

And then the tunnel narrowed around them. Sam leaned closer to Strawberry's neck, chin resting on the coarse mane. The mare lowered her head as the rock roof slanted down, but no matter how close Sam clung to Strawberry, the rock scrubbed the back of her jacket.

Strawberry was at least a hand taller than Ace, and the difference meant a tighter fit, but something else was wrong. Every other time she'd come through here, cracks in the roof overhead had let in daylight
or moonlight. Maybe she wasn't far enough along yet, not close enough to the stallion's hidden valley.

She'd only ridden through this leg of the tunnel once before, and then she'd been carried by the Phantom. Not Ace. Sam drew a breath. Strawberry and the Phantom were about the same height. Had she just not noticed the discomfort when she'd been riding the Phantom?

Shouldn't she be reaching the valley by now? Or at least the opening that came out closest to the ranch?

She had to use the flashlight.

“Easy girl. It's going to get brighter in here.” Sam winced as she said it. If Strawberry decided to act up, she could batter them both against the stone walls. They'd be injured for sure, and maybe worse.

Shielding the beam with her hand, Sam aimed it overhead. It took her a few seconds to process what she was seeing. The cracks were there all right, but they weren't letting in light, because they were packed with snow.

“Oh no,” Sam said, and though Strawberry gave an answering snort, she stood still.

Snow. What if the Phantom couldn't get to his herd because the entrance to the valley was packed with snow? What if there'd been an avalanche? Was it possible or was her imagination running away with her like the wildest, craziest horse?

“I'm going to trust you, girl,” she told the mare.
“I'm just going to shine it a little bit ahead of us. Good. Now a little more.”

Strawberry stamped once, but she didn't panic.

Sam almost did.

Dead ahead—she couldn't tell how far, exactly, but less than a quarter mile, for sure—the tunnel stopped at a wall of white.

Sam swallowed. Her imagination had been right.

She clicked the flashlight switch off.

Strawberry gave a low nicker. As the sound echoed back, she neighed again.

Sam wanted to cover her ears, but there was no room.

Strawberry turned her head to the right. She curved her neck hard, harder, and squealed. She tried turning to the left. Still there was no room.

Strawberry's hooves stuttered in place. Just as she had in the canyon, the mare wanted to circle, to check that nothing scary was behind her. But she couldn't.

Even with the saddle between them, Sam felt the mare's back hump up.

“Don't buck.” Sam crooned it in a singsong voice. “Don't buck, pretty Strawberry. I'll get us out of here,” Sam promised. “As soon as I figure out how.”