Heartbreak Bronco (12 page)

“H
ere comes the volunteer fire engine,” Brynna said. “Luke's trained as a first responder, so let's get his opinion, too.”

In minutes, the volunteer firefighters had checked out the snakebite and agreed with Brynna. Although the small wound was painful and a little swollen, they were virtually certain the snake hadn't injected any venom.

Just the same, Brynna and Gram loaded Amelia into the Buick for a trip to Darton County Hospital. They'd decided to leave Sam behind with Crystal.

“Sam, your dad should be home soon,” Brynna said. “In the meantime, just make sure you feed the
stock before dark and make yourselves something for dinner.”

Brynna's lips hardened into a straight line as she studied Crystal, standing on the front porch beside Sam.

“While I'm in town, I'll take care of calling the girls' parents and notifying HARP.”

Sam glared at Crystal. Even though the girl finally looked her age, hanging her head as if she hoped her dark hair would curtain her face from them, Sam didn't feel sorry for her.

“Placing blame isn't going to help at this point,” Brynna said.

“Okay,” Sam replied, but why shouldn't she yell at Crystal? She'd almost certainly cost them the HARP program.

And the ironic thing, Sam thought, was that Amelia had learned not to be a follower. She'd stood up to Crystal even though it put her in danger.

Car keys jingled as Brynna glanced into the Buick's back seat where Amelia sat with Gram, then waved good-bye.

As soon as the car crossed the bridge and rolled from sight, Sam opened the screen door. Its creak and slam were the only sounds. Sam didn't ask Crystal to follow her, but she did.

Inside, Blaze greeted Sam with a whine. She sank to her knees beside him, then circled his neck in a hug.

Now that the danger had passed, Sam's hands
trembled and her insides felt like shaking jello.

Blaze smelled dusty and doggy, but Sam pressed her face into his fur.

“It's okay, Blaze,” she said. “Everything's okay now.”

When she realized Crystal was looking down on her, Sam stood. She took a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. Amber puddles of tea slopped onto the counter as she poured two full glasses. She added two spoonfuls of sugar to hers, then sat down. She leaned back in her chair, waiting for Crystal to make the next move.

Amazingly, Crystal took a paper towel from the roll and blotted up the spilled tea.

But so what? That could have been a rattlesnake. Instead of being checked “just in case,” Amelia could be fighting for her life.

With the soggy paper towel still in her hand, Crystal started talking.

“I just want to go home. Why can't he let me stay home?” Crystal still faced the counter instead of Sam.

Would you want yourself around?
Sam thought, but she didn't say it. Even angry as she was, that was too harsh.

“Think about what you've been doing,” Sam said, instead.

“But I'm his daughter!” Crystal whirled, shouting. “He should love me no matter what!”

“Are you testing him?” Sam asked. “Trying to see
how much he'll take?”

“So what if I am?” Crystal's chin jerked upward and her eyes were defiant again.

“That's pretty mean,” Sam said. “What do you think he'll say about today?”

“That I'm crazy. I mean, sometimes, I don't know. It's like I can't tell the difference between brave and crazy. I kinda think that if I could just stay home for a while, and be quiet, I could get that straight.”

“Why don't you call your dad and tell him that?” Sam asked.

“Like he'll believe me after talking to Brynna,” Crystal said.

“She's not in Darton yet. The drive takes a half hour. Call him now, Crystal. Get to him first so that he hears it from you.”

Crystal's eyebrows rose. She looked tempted. Then she glanced at the clock.

“He's a dealer at the casino and he works the graveyard shift. He's probably getting ready for work.”

“Fine,” Sam said. She stood, then patted her jeans so Blaze would heel. “You sit here and think of excuses. Blaze and I are going to go feed the stock.”

“You don't know what it's like,” Crystal said. “He's always disappointed in me.”

“Then do something right,” Sam said and, before she started sounding even more like some lecturing adult, she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

 

As Sam checked the horses' water troughs, she scolded herself for trying to tell Crystal what to do. She was no expert, so why had she even tried?

As she shooed the hens inside for the night, Sam kicked herself for encouraging Crystal to stay on River Bend Ranch until the program ended on Friday. She didn't even like the girl, so why had she done that?

As she measured out grain and vitamin supplements for Dark Sunshine, she wondered what would be happening this time next week. The first week of HARP would be over. The claiming race would be over, too.

“Blaze!” Sam called as the border collie began sniffing around in the tack room. “Come back here.”

Waving his tail, he waited as she filled her arms with flakes of hay for Popcorn and Jinx. The two mustangs nickered from the round pen, but Sam didn't hurry. She kept Blaze beside her and watched each rock, shrub, and shadow for snakes.

Crystal had been in the house for about half an hour when she called from the front porch.

“Sam! Phone.”

Brushing away the hay prickling through her shirt, Sam hurried toward the house. Brynna had had time to get to Darton. It was probably her.

Feeling overheated after working outside, Sam slid open a kitchen window before taking the telephone
from Crystal. As she did, she noticed Crystal wore a lopsided smile.

Oh my gosh, what's up now?
Sam wondered, but she'd stalled long enough.

“Hello?”

The caller turned out to be Clara.

“Linc Slocum just stopped in for pie and coffee—” Clara broke off and Sam could hear Linc Slocum's voice in the background. She pictured the telephone next to the coffee shop cash register and imagined Linc standing there, instructing Clara what to say. “He mentioned he passed Brynna and Grace on the road.”

“They were heading for town like a coyote for a campground,” Linc's voice boomed.

Sam joined in as Clara laughed.

Linc Slocum was the richest man in this part of Nevada, but more than anything, he wanted people to think of him as a cowboy. He was greedy, gossipy, and prone to buying anything that might give him Western credentials. One of those things was the Phantom.

Linc Slocum didn't care if he owned the Phantom through legal or illegal means. He'd scarred the stallion by snubbing him to barrels filled with concrete. He'd tried to adopt him through the BLM and failed. He'd arranged for the wild stallion to be taken off the range by a shady rodeo promoter who'd drugged and abused him. Linc Slocum never stopped trying to take away
the Phantom's freedom, and Sam despised him for it.

But since Clara was calling and Linc was just waiting in the background, it might be okay to explain why Gram and Brynna had been driving so fast toward town.

“We, uh, had an accident out here. Amelia's fine, but she was bitten by a snake. Gram and Brynna just took her into town to be checked out by a doctor.”

As Clara sympathized, Sam watched Crystal.

The dark-haired girl blushed, but she also fidgeted with what looked like excitement.

Meeting Sam's eyes, Crystal mouthed silent words that looked like,
I have to tell you something.

“—can you?” Clara asked, dragging Sam's attention back to their phone conversation.

“I'm sorry, Clara, what were you asking me?”

“I don't blame you for being surprised, Sam. It is short notice, but I've already paid the entry fee and there are already bids on the horse and he has to be ridden by someone under sixteen.”

Sam heard Linc's voice bellowing questions, but she asked anyway.

“Clara? Are you saying you want me to ride Jinx in the claiming race? I've never—”

Clara chuckled. “It's more for fun than an actual race,” she said. “I never would have agreed to let that Amelia do it if I thought it was risky. Although”—Clara broke off to tsk her tongue—“that girl promised to get me written permission from her
parents, and I haven't seen it yet.”

“But it's not a real race?” Sam prodded her.

“There's a running start, like a barrel race, and only one horse runs at a time,” Clara explained. “The clock starts ticking when you cross a line into that little arena the YRA uses. When you reach the other end of the arena, you swing a turn, then race back. Time stops when you cross over that line again.”

“Like a barrel race with no barrels,” Sam mused.

“Yes, ma'am,” Clara agreed. “So, what do you think?”

Sam pictured Jinx balking and the crowd roaring with laughter.

Jinx could embarrass them both. Still, if he did balk, he'd probably do it outside the arena, before they got started.

“It's mainly for fun,” Clara coaxed. “The entry fee was seventy-five dollars, and the purse is five hundred.”

“I don't know,” Sam hesitated. “He's really fast, but he balks, Clara. And he's still a little unpredictable.”

“Oh honey, that doesn't make any difference. Maybe you didn't hear me before. There are already three bids on the horse. The minimum bid is the same as the purse—five hundred dollars!”

Three bids. So Jinx would have a new home, no matter how he ran in the claiming race. Who could have placed those bids?

“I'll have to ask my dad,” Sam said, but she already felt the anticipation building.

Dad had to say yes.

“You do that, Sam,” Clara said, raising her voice over Linc's chatter. “And I'll pay you a rider's fee, of course.” Clara paused to listen and Sam wondered why Linc hadn't just picked up the phone and called River Bend Ranch himself.

“Oh, is that so?” Clara sounded pleased.

“What, Clara?”

All at once, worry grabbed Sam.

“Linc was just telling me—how much?”

Sam gripped the receiver harder.

“Linc was just saying,” Clara continued, “that he can always use another fast horse. He's planning on watching the race Saturday and thinks it would add to the fun to have a stake in it.”

“What's he mean by that?” Sam asked, though she knew very well what Linc Slocum meant.

“Well, it sounds to me like he wants to make a claiming bid on my horse.”

“Darn right!” Linc's voice roared.

Sam closed her eyes. Jinx would go to the highest bidder.

In all of Darton County, there was only one millionaire. If Linc Slocum bid on Jinx, the grulla gelding would be his.

W
orking like a robot, Sam took a package of hot dogs from the freezer and tried to make dinner. Three hot dogs exploded in the microwave before she got the knack of cooking them. Sam served the first two survivors to Crystal, though Blaze stood by, wagging his tail hopefully.

The dark-haired girl stayed silent while they ate, and Sam appreciated that, but when she'd blotted up the last drip of mustard with her hot dog bun, she still hadn't figured out how to help Jinx.

“I have to tell you what my dad said,” Crystal said, finally breaking the silence.

“Okay,” Sam said. She stared at the kitchen window, which only showed her reflection against the
dark-gray night outside. She wondered what her own father was doing now.

“I told him about the snake and then I told him I was going to beg Brynna to let me stay and finish the HARP course—”

“If there is one,” Sam said.

“—and he said he'd call HARP and tell them what progress I was making, and if she'd let me and I stuck it out and didn't mess up anymore, he'd come watch on Friday.”

While Crystal waited for Sam to celebrate, crunching filled the kitchen. Blaze was eating his dinner, but he, too, watched Sam with reproachful looks. Probably, she thought, because the smell of hot dogs still lingered.

Sam just couldn't work up the enthusiasm Crystal wanted from her.

“So, he's not going to punish you?” she asked.

“I'm grounded for the summer. I can't go anywhere without him.” Crystal frowned, tapped her glass, then added, “How sick is it that I like the sound of that?”

Sam shrugged.

“Do you know what he said about sending me away? He thinks he's been doing a terrible job as a father because of the wild stuff I've done. He even said because he rides a motorcycle instead of driving a car, he had to send me away so I could be exposed to people who'd have a better influence on me.”

Before Sam had a chance to respond, Blaze jumped up from his dish and paced to the door.

Tires bumped over the bridge just an instant before hoofbeats.

Amelia and Gram came into the kitchen while Dad and Brynna lingered outside.

“They're bedding down the horses,” Gram explained, but Sam knew better. Brynna was telling Dad everything that had happened in his absence, and Dad was probably frustrated because he hadn't been home to help.

Amelia held up a bandaged right hand.

“We were right,” she said. “It wasn't a rattlesnake.”

“Does it hurt?” Crystal asked.

“Yeah, but that's not why it's all wrapped up.” Amelia gave an impish smile. “They were going to just put a Band-Aid on it until I convinced everyone I could still ride. So they added lots of extra protection.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

Amelia made a loose fist with her left hand and held it out to one side as if she were holding reins.

“Brynna said I could.”

Sam glanced over at Gram.

“We thought—and her parents agreed—that Amelia's progress in other areas should be rewarded.”

Amelia pumped her bandaged hand skyward as she smiled at Sam.

“Good job,” Sam said.

“But she is
not
riding in the claiming race,” Gram insisted.

Amelia's eyes slid away from Sam's and her grin faded. Sam rubbed her eyes. She was tired, but she could swear Amelia's expression showed more guilt than disappointment.

The kitchen door opened. Brynna and Dad walked in and Sam looked quickly enough to see them loosen hands, which must have been linked while they were outside.

Although seeing Dad holding hands with Brynna had taken some getting used to, Sam knew now that it was a good sign.

Just the same, his eyes took in everyone in the kitchen critically, then remained on Crystal.

The dark-haired girl seemed to think Dad was asking for a confession.

“I'm the one who—”

Dad held his hand palm out, halting her.

“Young lady, I've been in the saddle about forty hours these last two days. I've heard what I need to hear from my wife. The rest can wait. Just now, I'm gonna have a shower, then come down to eat whatever I smell cooking.”

“Just hot dogs, Dad,” Sam told him. “And half of them exploded.”

Gram's head was tilted to one side as she peered inside the microwave oven, surveying the mess. Dad didn't notice.

The hand he rested on Sam's shoulder smelled of horses and leather.

“Sounds like a fine dinner to me,” he said. “And I hear you did a good job today during the—emergency.”

Dad's eyes looked weary in his sun-browned face, but mostly he looked proud.

“I didn't really do anything,” Sam admitted. “And if I hadn't left to see Tempest—”

“You had permission,” Brynna interrupted. “And by keeping calm, you kept Amelia quiet.”

“Thanks,” Sam sighed.

“You have the night off,” Brynna said.

“Right,” Sam laughed. “After I clean out the microwave I trashed.” But Brynna looked serious, so Sam asked, “What do you mean?”

“She means I'll be sleeping in the bunkhouse tonight with the girls,” Gram said.

Sam pictured herself falling backward in slow motion onto her own bed. Just the idea made her relax. Her head bobbled on her neck. Her shoulders drooped and she could barely see past her heavy eyelids.

“Thanks, Gram,” Sam said.

Dad winked as he passed through the swinging door to the living room.

When his boots sounded on the stairs, Amelia whispered to Sam, “I need to talk to you.”

She sat back in surprise as all eyes turned her way.

“A whisper attracts a lot more attention than a shout around here,” Brynna said.

“I guess so,” Amelia muttered. “But Sam, we have to talk about the race.”

“Amelia won't be riding in it.” Brynna sounded as if her patience had been tested on the subject. “Even without the injury, she wouldn't have.”

Sam decided this wasn't the time to mention the pending permission slip Clara had told her about.

“But I have to tell you something,” Amelia insisted.

Crystal shifted as if trying to draw Amelia's attention, but the other girl just stared at Sam.

The way she was bugging her eyes, it must be important, but Brynna thought otherwise.

“Amelia, is it anything that's going to change before tomorrow morning?”

After a thoughtful minute, Amelia shook her head.

“Now,” Brynna said to Sam, “if you're going to be alert for our five thirty meeting, I think you should hustle upstairs and get some rest.”

Sam groaned at the thought of the early meeting. If they were staying on schedule, though, it must mean Brynna's talks with the girls' parents and HARP had gone well.

Tomorrow the girls would mount up for the first time.

Amelia would be ecstatic. Crystal would be scared. Both reactions would take extra attention
from Brynna and Sam.

When she got upstairs, Sam wondered if her bedside clock had stopped. Could it be only eight o'clock?

It was. Her watch confirmed it. It was way too early to go to bed. Yawning, she picked up a horse magazine she'd barely read, and flopped down on her quilt.

After a minute or two, she realized she wasn't really reading the article on barn buckets. Her mind was replaying Gram's story about luck.

The cowboy who'd owned Jinx said he was a bad luck charm, but Sam thought he was wrong.

Jinx had been sold by the Potters because Mr. Potter had broken his arm in a fall from the grulla, but then the Happy Heart Ranch had been sold for a huge amount of money.

When the cowboy had traded Jinx to Clara for a dollar and a piece of cake, she'd counted herself lucky, until Jinx escaped and caused Jake's accident.

But maybe, because he needed the money to pay for his car insurance, Jake would agree to work for the HARP program. So, the luck seesawed back to good, at least for the girls who'd benefit from his teaching, didn't it?

Sam stared at her bedroom's plastered ceiling. Letting her gaze lose focus, she could see pictures in the white, uneven surface.

Jinx and the Phantom had run side by side,
revealing the grulla's hidden talent for speed. That speed had caused Amelia to dream of riding him. Having a dream reminded her she needed to be a good kid to get her parents' cooperation to ride again. Maybe that realization had helped her stand up to Crystal.

And Jinx's speed had inspired Clara to enter him in the claiming race, so she might earn some extra money and the gelding could go to a home where they didn't consider him bad luck.

Sam closed her eyes. She sighed, then fell asleep knowing they'd all live happily ever after.

Only in her dreams did Sam feel a threat. Looming dark in the corner of her mind, she saw Linc Slocum, ready to tilt Jinx's luck back the other way.