Kidnapped Colt (10 page)

Jen moved to the pasture gate, ready to open it as soon as Mikki returned.

The gelding bobbed his head, white mane flopping in eagerness.

“I don't get how she's going to catch him,” Gina protested.

“She'll just slide the lead rope over his neck, behind his ears,” Jake said. “Then, she'll hold it together under his throat…”

Jake paused. They all watched as Mikki caught the willing albino. Haltering him was a fumbling, awkward action, but she managed to slip the noseband past Popcorn's lips and nostrils, lift the straps up his cheeks, and buckle the halter into place.

Mikki stroked the albino's neck, and Popcorn's skin shivered.

“How many hands does that take?” Gina asked Jake, but it was Mikki who called out an answer.

“Three,” she said. “But I've got him.”

Sam and Jen laughed as Mikki, with a jaunty step, led Popcorn back toward the gate Jen was opening.

“Watch Ace,” Sam cautioned.

Refusing to be left behind, the bay gelding bolted past Popcorn and Mikki. Jen used both hands to slam the gate closed, and Ace slid to a stop.

Then he gave a plaintive nicker in Sam's direction.

“My poor baby,” Sam said, smooching as Ace tossed his black forelock to show the white star between his eyes. “He can come out, Jen.”

“If you're sure,” Jen said.

“Beggin' for trouble,” Jake muttered.

“You think you know everything,” Sam teased him.

Then, with a slam of horseflesh against wood, Ace came out bucking.

F
or an instant Sam was afraid she'd made a mistake.

Sunlight glinted on Ace's red-gold coat and highlighted his muscles, making him look every inch a mustang.

Jen helped Mikki lead Popcorn out of Ace's path and Sam turned to Gina.

“Careful,” Sam cautioned her, but just as quickly as it had begun, Ace's burst of high spirits switched to curiosity as he spotted Gina.

With a snort and a tilt of his head, Ace walked toward the new girl.

“Are you okay with him checking you out?” Sam couldn't see Gina's face in the shade of her baseball
cap, but the girl nodded.

Gina kept her feet braced apart as Ace sniffed her gray sweatshirt.

“He's mine,” Sam said, coming to stand beside Gina. “And he's just introducing himself. Gina, this is Ace, the smartest, sweetest horse on River Bend Ranch.”

When Sam planted a loud kiss on Ace's nose, Jake shook his head in disgust.

“I'll be in the corral,” Jake said, and walked away.

When Gina raised a hand to pet Ace, Sam relaxed and turned her attention back to Jen and Mikki.

“You did great,” Jen told Mikki. “How about giving Popcorn over to Sam, now, and following your”—Jen raised her voice so Jake would hear—“always gregarious teacher over to the barn corral.”

As if she had to force each finger to part with the lead rope, Mikki surrendered Popcorn to Sam.

“He doesn't want to work with me, does he?” Mikki asked, staring after Jake.

“Of course he does,” Sam said. “He's embarrassed because I got mushy with Ace.”

“Just follow him,” Jen told Mikki. “And don't be surprised if he gives Dark Sunshine more attention than he gives you.”

“That's fine with me,” Mikki said.

“I don't know,” Gina said in a lazy voice. “I think Jake's kind of hot.”

“Kind of
what
?” Jen's outburst made Ace snort
and Popcorn back away with rolling eyes.

Sam felt like doing the same.

“I'm outta here,” Mikki said.

As Mikki hurried after Jake, Sam admired her good sense. Mikki was doing exactly what Brynna had suggested, ignoring Gina's bids for attention.

But gosh, couldn't Gina go five minutes without insisting everyone notice her?

First, Gina had made a point of rubbing it in that she'd work with Popcorn. Now, she'd made a stupid remark about Jake.

“Don't you think he's cute?” Gina asked. She pulled off her baseball cap and her green eyes watched for Sam's reaction.

Sam forced a smile, then shrugged.

“I've known him since I was born,” she said, and then she and Jen made Gina buckle down to work.

In the round pen, Jen unhaltered Popcorn and instructed Gina in how to rehalter and groom the albino, while Sam demonstrated each task on Ace.

Every now and then, they heard Dark Sunshine's angry squeals from the barn corral. Once, they heard the sound of an equine body hitting the fence.

That time, Sam and Jen's eyes met.

The buckskin mare was a troubled animal. Though she was supposed to be part of the HARP program, she'd never quite fit in.

Midway through the morning, Sam glimpsed movement from the corner of her eye. Someone was
watching through the rails of the round pen.

It was Gram.

Please let her have news about the lost horses,
Sam thought. And then she turned to Jen.

“Go ahead,” Jen said, seeing Gram.

“What about me?” Gina said. “Don't I get a break?”

Without answering, Sam slipped through the gate, closed it behind her, and took a deep breath, suddenly aware of how dusty it had been inside the corral.

“Has Ryan called?” Sam asked.

Gram shook her head. “I would have hollered for you if he had,” Gram said, “but I did talk with Duke Fairchild. The good news is, he hasn't sold any Appaloosas. There hasn't been one at Mineral Auction Yards in months.”

“Why don't I feel relieved?” Sam asked.

“Because we still don't know where Hotspot and her baby are,” Gram said.

Sam wanted to get rid of this big iron horseshoe of guilt that was hanging around her neck, but that wouldn't happen until the horses were safe.

“I learned something else,” Gram said. “According to Helen Coley, Karl Mannix has left town.”

Sam closed her eyes as if she could block out this extra information. She'd never make a good detective. It was way too confusing.

“Then—wait,” Sam said. “Can the sheriff go after him? Isn't that kind of suspicious?”

“I'm sure Heck Ballard will talk with Linc,” Gram said.

“I mentioned it to him when he called back.”

“Sheriff Ballard called back?” Sam asked.

“Yes, but he hasn't uncovered anything new, and with all the folks coming into town this weekend for the Fourth of July festivities, he's terribly busy.”

Gram waggled the pencil she held between two fingers. Sam couldn't help noticing Gram had been doing all of the work that she'd encouraged Sam to leave to the sheriff.

“You've really been busy,” Sam said.

“I like to help,” Gram said. Then, seeing Sam notice the pencil, she skewered it through the tidy bun of her gray hair. “One more interesting thing,” Gram said, frowning. “When I called Sterling Stables, they didn't know anything about all this.”

“That doesn't make sense. Linc told us he'd called to see if Ryan had dropped off Hotspot. Didn't he?”

“All I know is, it would certainly simplify things if everyone told the truth.” Gram gave a fierce nod. “Still, I talked with Katie Sterling and she offered to fax the sheriff a list of Appaloosa fanciers, in case he wanted to send a ‘be on the lookout' bulletin.

“Yes, most of what Katie said was reassuring.” Gram's voice slowed.

“Most?” Sam asked.

“Katie's read up on modern-day horse thieves,” Gram said. “And it seems, sometimes, foals are just too much trouble. Thieves want easy-to-handle horses.”

A mare with a foal was rarely easy to handle. Sam suppressed a shudder at what she knew was coming.

“To keep a mare settled down, they'll”—Gram paused, searching for the right word—“split up the mare and foal.”

“And sell them separately?” Sam asked, but it took Gram too long to agree.

Sam felt sick. Gram hadn't been searching for the right word, just the kind word. Katie Sterling had suggested that Shy Boots might be killed.

 

Dad had driven into Alkali for chicken feed and Gram was leading Sweetheart around the ranch, giving the old mare some exercise, but she left lunch and a list of phone numbers in the kitchen.

Sam and Jen took turns eating sandwiches with Gina, Mikki, and Jake, and calling neighbors Gram hadn't gotten to yet.

Though everyone was sympathetic and mildly critical of Linc for not making his own phone calls, no one had seen the mare and foal.

“I talked with Grace this morning,” Mrs. Allen said when Sam called the Blind Faith Mustang Sanctuary.

“I'm sorry to bother you again,” Sam apologized.

“Don't be silly. I've spent my morning wondering what you've missed and I finally thought of something.”

Ever since she'd taken in a herd of unadoptable mustangs, Mrs. Allen had become what Gram called a go-getter in everything.

“We'd love your suggestions,” Sam said. She glanced over at Jen, who gave a thumbs-up gesture, and Mrs. Allen must have been feeling pretty excited herself, because Sam heard the old lady's Boston bull terriers yapping in the background.

“Shady dealings are conducted on the Internet.” Mrs. Allen's tone was ominous.

“Yes,” Sam said in what she hoped was an encouraging voice.

“I never go near computers myself, but from what I've read in the newspaper, the Internet is a hotbed of crime.”

“You're probably right,” Sam said.

“I daresay you could find a few unscrupulous horsemen who'd buy a mare and foal without asking for proper ownership papers. Those machines just seem to bring all sorts of creeps out of the woodwork.”

Creeps like Karl Mannix,
Sam thought. Linc had said Mannix was a computer genius.

But she'd lost track of what Mrs. Allen was prattling about.

“…don't you, dear?”

Sam took a deep breath. Keeping up a conversation with Mrs. Allen was like riding a spirited horse. It was a bad idea to let your mind wander. But she had a fifty-fifty chance of answering the old lady's question correctly.

Sam crossed her fingers and answered, “I don't.”

“Well, I'll try to be more to the point, but not too gruesome,” Mrs. Allen said. “Someone could be holding the pair somewhere and fattening them up to sell for meat.”

“That would be awful,” Sam admitted.

“Truly awful, so if I were you, dear, I'd get your little band of bad girls working harder. You need to find those horses while they're still alive.”

 

The afternoon went smoothly, and if Jake wasn't very talkative about how Dark Sunshine and Mikki had done together, that wasn't exactly a shock.

By the time Brynna arrived home, her morning energy had worn off. She leaned against the refrigerator, sipping a glass of orange juice as the girls celebrated the finished brochure.

“Look at this,” Sam said to Mikki and Gina. “We're amazing!”

“I heard Linc was out of town,” Gram said as she examined the perfect photograph of Hotspot on the front of the flyer. “Brynna, did Karl Mannix get this for you?”

“No. I didn't ask him,” Brynna said. “For some
reason I remembered the mare came from the Spanish Moss Plantation in Florida. When I called and told them what I needed, they were only too happy to send me all they had on Hotspot.”

“I have a list of where we should drop off flyers,” Jen said, showing Brynna her little notebook.

“That's a long list,” Brynna said. Her eyes swung to Dad as he came inside.

“You still feeling a little sick?” he asked.

“Tired,” Brynna admitted. “But if I could grab a ten-minute nap before we started out, I'd be good as new.”

“You go right along and do that,” Gram encouraged her, and Brynna didn't have to be told twice.

Sam was retreating with the rest of the girls to get cleaned up for the trip to Darton when she noticed Dad and Jake talking by Dark Sunshine's corral.

“What's going on?” Jen asked Sam, as she noticed, too.

“I don't know, but I'll find out,” Sam said.

“Are you ditching me with the girls again?” Jen said.

Sam froze, remembering how she'd asked Jen to wake the girls this morning while she called the sheriff, then to keep working with Gina while she stepped outside the round pen to talk with Gram. Now this.

“I'm sorry,” Sam said.

“It was a joke, Sam,” Jen assured her. “I think
this is really fun. I like not splitting duties with you.”

“Honest?” Sam said, watching her friend closely.

“Cross my heart,” Jen said with a quick gesture. “I may be a natural-born counselor.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “But I won't take my eyes off either of them when we get to preview night. I promise.”

S
quatting and looking down at the dust instead of each other, Dad and Jake were talking like cowboys.

Dad used a twig to mark something on the ground and Sam decided they must be talking about riding out to look for the Appaloosas.

Should she approach casually, as if she'd just happened to mosey by? Or just stride right up and be honest about it?

Sam approached openly, but Dad and Jake didn't seem to notice. When she got close enough to hear their conversation, she was surprised how much it concerned her.

“I'd go alone,” Jake muttered, “but havin' her will cut my approach time in half.”

“Yep. She can call that stud to her like a lapdog. And she puts him in worse danger each time she does,” Dad said.

Sam couldn't have felt worse if her heart had stopped beating.

“Go alone, Jake,” Sam said as they both looked up.

“Brat—” Jake started.

“Honey,” Dad interrupted, sighing. “Checking from a distance won't hurt that stallion. You'll be able to spot those Appaloosas from a mile away.”

“No. You're right, Dad. If I wanted Blackie tame, I'd adopt him.”

“Is that so?” Dad said.

Sam ignored Dad's faint smile and crossed her arms. She'd made this decision long ago.

“I want him free, Dad. Each time he doesn't run from me, he's more at risk from someone who wants to catch him,” Sam said. “Maybe BLM wranglers could ride out there.”

“Maybe,” Dad said.

“Linc's just going to think I turned them loose anyway, so it's not going to change anything,” Sam said.

She gazed through the fence rails at Tempest and Dark Sunshine, knowing how miserable she'd feel if they'd disappeared.

Her hands clenched in frustration. Someone had to go check the wild herds, and Jake was right. She could get him closer, sooner. But how close was too close? How many visits would make the Phantom too tame?

Sam was still watching the Phantom's filly when she heard the bunkhouse door open on a wave of chatter.

Dad noticed, too.

“Well, we'll talk about this a little later, 'cause here comes trouble if I've ever seen it. And whew.” Dad made a loud sniff. “I can smell the perfume from here.”

Mikki and Gina both wore white shorts with red shirts. Jen followed in fresh jeans and a blue-and-white blouse spangled with red stars.

Sam looked down at the riding clothes she'd worn all day. She didn't look a bit festive. She might have run to the house and changed if Brynna hadn't sauntered out to meet the other girls just then.

“Ready?” Brynna called toward the barn.

“Just about,” Dad said.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed. “Will you be needin' me to come along?” he asked.

“Naw,” Dad said. “Best thing you can do is ride along home. We'll try to handle this wild bunch without you.”

 

All four girls fit in the backseat of Gram's Buick, but barely, so it was Brynna who climbed out in Alkali, to leave flyers at Clara's coffee shop and the general store that was part of the gas station.

Making up for a day away from the HARP girls, Brynna had asked Mikki about her reunion with Popcorn, and Mikki was still explaining when they'd driven halfway to Darton.

Pinned between the car window and Gina, Sam felt the younger girl fidgeting.

Probably because Brynna's paying attention to Mikki,
Sam thought. And probably, if she were a good HARP counselor, she'd talk with Gina, so she wouldn't act up for attention.

But Sam kept her eyes fixed on the passing scenery, hoping she'd see two chocolate-colored horses with Appaloosa spots.

“What are you doing?” Gina said, elbowing Sam. “Pouting because now you've got a criminal rep like the rest of us?”

“A criminal rep?” Jen asked before Sam could. “A reputation, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

Sam didn't know how Gina's tone managed to imply Jen had no experience with real life, but it did.

Dad started to say something, but Brynna touched his arm and shook her head.

“Everyone has a reputation for something,” Brynna said. “I hope I have one for being a fair boss and a decent biologist. Jen has a reputation for being a level-headed genius,” Brynna joked. “And everyone knows Sam is a wild horse expert.”

“You can try to brand someone with a bad reputation, but it don't necessarily take,” Dad said.

They drove in silence for a few seconds before Gram, buckled into the front seat between Dad and Brynna, spoke up.

“The best words I ever heard about making your own reputation,” Gram said, looking over her shoulder into the back seat, “is that you come into the world crying while everyone else is smiling at the miracle of you, and you should live your life so when you leave it, you're smiling, but everyone else is crying because the miracle of you is gone.”

“That's so cool,” Mikki said, but Gram's words of wisdom didn't lighten Sam's mood.

If even one person thought she was responsible for the horses' disappearance, she had to do something.

 

Driving toward the fairgrounds, they stopped at Crane Crossing Mall and left flyers at the Western wear and tack stores, so it was dusk by the time they arrived.

Climbing out of the car into the warm July evening, Sam felt the bustle of preview night at the carnival. The hum of excitement made it impossible to mope.

Sam strolled the fairgrounds with Jen on one side and Mikki on the other. Gina forged ahead as if she knew where she was going. Dad and Brynna lagged behind, holding hands.

Hammers pounded and power tools whined as rides that would be running Friday night were rolled down from trucks and rebuilt.

Vendors climbed ladders to hang red, white, and blue bunting. Service groups that would sell barbecued beef sandwiches and cotton candy later yelled
back and forth, testing lights.

A woman wearing a gray canvas apron pulled coupons from her pouch-like pockets and urged them to visit the two things that were already running—a hotdog stand and the carousel.

Brynna bought corn dogs on sticks for everyone. They meandered around the fairgrounds, eating and handing out flyers while merry-go-round music followed them.

“Pretty cool,” Mikki said.

“Pretty bor—” Gina broke off when Jen and Sam turned to glare at her. “Quiet.”

“It's just a small-town carnival, and it's not even set up yet,” Brynna said, almost agreeing. “But you could be back at the ranch, cleaning out the barn.”

“Or washing dishes after Gram made some huge feast for dinner,” Sam suggested.

“Okay, it's fun enough,” Gina said, and even though she pulled her baseball cap down to hide her eyes, Sam heard the smile in her voice.

“Hey, check that out!” Mikki said, pointing.

PATTY'S PRONTO PETTING ZOO
read the blue-and-white-striped awning that swooped up like a tent to shade an enclosure.
CUTE
,
LOVEABLE
,
FRIENDLY
,
AND CLEAN
said one banner.
ANIMAL HANDLER ALWAYS READY TO ANSWER QUESTIONS
said another.

Shy Boots was cute and loveable. What if—

Sam rushed to look inside, but the enclosure was empty.

“Too bad, there's nothing to pet,” Jen said, joining in Sam's disappointment as she came to stand beside her.

Sam smiled at her friend, but she didn't share her one instant of crazy hope with Jen.

“Come back on the Fourth of July, and you'll see goats, sheep, pigs, and ducks.”

Sam turned toward the new voice. A woman in jeans and a khaki shirt might have passed for a teenager, except for the gray in her brown braids and squint lines around her eyes.

“And over in the sitting area,” the woman continued, “you'll be able to hold bunnies and guinea pigs.”

“Hi,” Sam said, studying the woman.

“Hi, I'm Patty.” The woman pointed to the name on the awning. “And I even let big kids like you in, if you behave.”

“Cool,” Mikki said, as Patty gave them each a dollar-off coupon for the petting zoo.

Instead of looking at the coupon in her hand, Sam read the poster taped to the petting zoo's admission booth.

Patty apparently used her animals for children's birthday parties and Christmas nativity scenes, as well as fairs and carnivals.

Though one line of type said, “I love my animals and reserve the right to expel anyone from the petting pen,” Sam felt wary.

“Where do you get your animals?” she asked.

Suspicion must have tinged her tone, because Patty looked startled.

“I mean, do you take pets that people don't want anymore?” Sam added.

“I only buy animals from reputable breeders, but there's no shortage of people trying to give me pets they've gotten sick of. I hope you're not one of them.”

Patty's hands perched on her hips, and while Sam was deciding she liked this woman a lot, Brynna laughed.

“Hardly,” Brynna said. “According to my husband, we're running a home for old chickens. We have two Rhode Island Red hens—”

“Three,” Dad added.

“—that haven't laid eggs in over a year.”

“My kinda folks, then,” Patty said, nodding. “Some people have no loyalty to their animals, though, and it's hard to refuse, but I make precious few exceptions.”

Sam felt guilty for thinking this nice woman might be in league with whoever had stolen Hotspot and Shy Boots.

That was just wishful thinking that didn't make sense, she decided. She wanted this search to be over.

Sam handed Patty one of the flyers, but the woman spared it only a glance before slipping it in her pocket.

“I do have two potbellied pigs,” Patty said as Mikki and Gina investigated the zoo. “Some woman bought them for her husband, then divorced him and
thought it would serve him right if she had Hamlet and Ophelia—that's what she named them—made into pork c-h-o-p-s.”

Patty glanced around as if the pigs were nearby. And could spell.

“My only other exception is a pregnant burro who was captured in the desert outside Las Vegas. She won't be here Fourth of July, because she's due to foal any day.”

“What's her name?” Mikki asked.

“Mistress Mayhem,” Patty said grandly. “But I call her May, and despite her bossiness, she makes a lovely addition to a nativity scene.”

“We'll look forward to seeing you on Friday,” Brynna said. She glanced after Gina, who had walked on to watch the setup for a pitching booth. Milk bottles made of tin rolled everywhere, and Gina bent to help a man pick them up.

“I'm always here,” Patty insisted as Sam looked back at her. “Where my animals are, that's where you'll find me! They're my family. My son hates it when I say that,” Patty said as Sam waved good-bye.

Mikki decided to pass up a ride on the carousel.

“I'm a little sore,” she admitted. “Just the idea of throwing a leg over one of those wooden horses makes me hurt.”

“Well, I don't want to ride alone,” Gina said. “But if that guy had his pitching booth open, I'd show you something.”

“Could you win me a stuffed animal?” Mikki asked.

There was something sad about Gina's smile as she nodded. “I used to be really good at that.”

After Sam and Jen passed out their remaining flyers, they all left for home.

Both HARP girls and Gram were dozing by the time the Buick passed the turnoff to Gold Dust Ranch.

“Do you think Linc's told Ryan that Karl Mannix took off?” Jen whispered to Sam.

“Do you think he'd care?” Sam asked, hoping Jen wouldn't get mad.

“I think he would,” Jen said.

Brynna twisted in her seat, listening.

“Can we call him again when we get back to the house?” Jen asked Brynna.

“It's pretty late,” Brynna said.

Sam and Jen stared at each other, even though they couldn't see each other's expressions in the dark car.

“It probably won't make any difference if we wait until morning to tell him that Mannix took off,” Jen said.

Sam gazed into the desert darkness and hoped Jen was right.