Run Away Home (18 page)

Cody slept under a soft blue blanket. Watching his peaceful breathing, Sam finally allowed weariness to overtake her. Instead of running up to her room and changing clothes, Sam returned to the kitchen, slid into her chair, and leaned back. If she put her hands on the table, she'd collapse on her face and fall asleep.

In fact, her vision had turned blurry when Mrs. Allen reached over to pat her arm and Sam jerked alert.

“I was just telling Grace and Brynna what a plucky little heroine you were on Saturday,” Mrs. Allen said.

Sam shook her head. She wasn't sure what
plucky
meant, but she'd bet that bookworm Darby would. Still, she knew she hadn't done anything heroic.

Stretching out in the snow to comfort a stricken horse—now
that
was heroic.

“How's Darby?” Sam asked.

“Amazing,” Mrs. Allen said flatly. “She won't
leave that sorrel filly unless it's to help bottle-feed the orphan foals. She wouldn't even sleep inside the house until I threatened to call her mother.”

“Where have I heard of behavior like that before?” Brynna asked slyly.

“Trudy just stopped by to pick up her Christmas pie,” Gram said.

“And to look at your darling brother,” Mrs. Allen said.

“And we were talking about having a New Year's Eve bonfire. Remember, the last one we had was such fun….”

Despite her efforts to keep her eyelids wide, Sam dozed off. At least, she was pretty sure she had, because the next thing she heard was the sound of a low-flying helicopter.

“I've had enough of those things!” Mrs. Allen snarled.

Gram and Brynna were agreeing, when suddenly Sam thought of something that had escaped her notice until now.

The helicopter pilot who'd started the avalanche had seen the horses vanish into the valley. He knew where they were. He could go after them. Not right this minute, maybe, but after the spring thaw he could corner them in the place where they'd always been safe.

Sam stared blindly, not seeing the plastered kitchen wall, but the sides of the tunnel, with its
ancient petroglyphs of horses. Horses had been there forever. They couldn't be taken away now.

“Samantha, honey, what are you doing to the tablecloth?” Gram asked, and Sam looked down to see her filthy fingernails clawing the checkered fabric.

“Sorry!” Sam said, smoothing the tablecloth down. “It's just that the helicopter followed the Phantom's herd. They know where he is, and I'm sure Norman White will—”

But when Sam glanced to Brynna for sympathy, she caught her smiling.

“No, he won't,” Brynna said. She sounded smug, but that didn't make sense.

Sam shoved her hair away from her eyes. They stung from sweat. Blinking, Sam asked, “What am I missing?”

“Honey, we were saving it for a Christmas morning surprise…,” Gram began.

“I can't watch her torture herself,” Brynna said.

“The Kenworthys aren't the only ones who've had some good news,” Gram said. “River Bend Ranch is about fifty acres bigger than we thought it was.”

“What?” Sam asked, bewildered.

“That information has been locked in my”—Gram reached up and knocked her knuckles against her head—“simple brain all these years.”

“You know those maps I've been going over for the last few months?” Brynna asked. “Of course you
do! Well, I kept running across this little odd crescent-shaped plot that didn't seem to be public or private land, but it turns out that it belongs to us!”

“We have all this land along the La Charla that we've known about and worked, of course,” Gram said, “but up in the left corner of our holding, well, my grandfather used to say it looked kinda like a dog wagging its tail. He said he paid a pretty penny for it, too, but it was worth it because of the year-round grazing and water in the secret valley.”

Year-round grazing and water in a secret valley.
That had to be the Phantom's hiding place, Sam thought. It had to be. And it belonged to them.

That meant…

Sam's mind spun with the enormity of what Brynna had discovered. That really, truly meant that the Phantom and his herd belonged to them. As long as the mustangs stayed on River Bend Ranch, they could live free.

Twice Sam tried to talk, but her tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth. Finally, she turned to Brynna in slow motion and asked, “You knew where he was, all this time?”

“I had a pretty good idea,” Brynna admitted.

The Phantom didn't have to be tamed to stay safe, Sam thought.

“You're positive it belongs to us?” Sam swiveled in her chair, begging Gram to tell her it was true.

“Absolutely. When we were in town just before
the storm,” Gram went on, “one of my errands was to take those maps in and have a little talk with a surveyor.” Gram tsked her tongue. “It's been ours for four generations.”

“Five,” Mrs. Allen said, nodding toward the cradle in the living room.

“Five,” Gram repeated with a smile. “Sam, I bet you remember me telling you about the summer cow camp we had up there?”

“I do!” Sam said. “Just a couple of weeks ago when Nicolas was here!”

“I thought it had been lost when I was a child. There was that landslide and it was sealed off.”

“I think it has a habit of doing that,” Sam said, and something dire in her voice must have set off Brynna's suspicions.

“You do?” Brynna said, frowning. “Why?”

Sam drew a deep breath and shrugged.

“It just kind of looks like that,” Sam said.

This was not the time to mention the avalanche. When Dad came in after talking with Jake would be plenty soon enough.

Right now, she wanted to soak up the revelation that the Phantom could stay free.

 

New Year's Eve festivities were in full swing.

Long tables held more potluck food than they'd all be able to eat, music came from cowboy guitars, and a crackling yellow bonfire burned as tall as the
rooftops when Cody Forster, carried by his big sister Samantha, met his neighbors for the first time.

Wearing a white sweater with gold thread knitted into it for sparkle, Sam edged through the crowd, determined to show the baby to Jen first. To do that, she had to walk past Darrell and Ally, because they'd come to the bonfire with the Kenworthys.

Sam was trying to figure out if they were a couple when Ally's voice soared octaves higher than usual. “Oh, he's so cute!”

Jen turned away from Ryan and her dad, then bent to stare at the baby. Cody stared back.

“He's probably only watching the flames reflected in my glasses, but babies this age usually aren't tracking at all. I'd say he's gearing up to be an intelligent little boy,” Jen said.

“I know it.” Sam accepted the compliment for Cody, then plopped a kiss on his head.

Before she could ask Jen how the plans for Harmony Ranch were coming along, Dr. Scott and Katie Sterling, both wearing sweaters, knit hats, and scarves, crowded close to see Cody.

“You're getting to be an old hand at this birthing stuff,” Dr. Scott shouted over a renewed burst of music. “Congratulations.”

“Horses are easier,” Sam said, then noticed how Katie looked up at Dr. Scott when she laughed.

What was it about New Year's Eve that put romance in the air?

Even Gram and Dallas were standing closer together than usual, she thought, as they talked with Mrs. Allen, Preston, and Mrs. Coley.

“Yes,” Mrs. Coley said, “I get to keep my old job. Ryan's asked me to stay on—”

“Lands sake, Helen, what would he have done if you'd said no?” Mrs. Allen whispered.

“And Brynna,” Mrs. Coley continued, talking over her friend's gossip, “I hear you've taken a new job!”

“Three of them,” Brynna said. “Ranch wife, wild horse advocate, and mama!”

Sam still got chills when she thought of the phone call from Washington, D.C. A prestigious animal rights group had asked Brynna to use her expertise to help defend the rights of wild horses in the legislature. She'd only have to be gone once in a while, but her knowledge would be valuable and appreciated.

When she'd phoned back to accept the job, Brynna had said, “I'll speak for the horses, since they can't do it themselves.”

Then she'd made a choking sound, because Sam had bulldogged her with a hug.

“Yep, one thing the women in this family have a knack for,” Dad said now, “is stepping up to the plate.” The arm he had around Brynna's shoulders gave her a squeeze.

“And hittin' home runs,” Darrell said. He punched Sam in the shoulder and Cody, who'd been
almost asleep, awoke with a start and began making mewing sounds.

“I'll take him,” Brynna said, holding out her arms.

Sam handed the baby over. Darrell looked hurt that he'd wakened the baby and Sam was about to tell him not to worry about it when Darrell's face brightened.

“Hey, Cody, little buddy,” Darrell said, turning his face so he could look into the baby's fretful one, “I've got my snowboard with me and that hillside looks like a place for some
extreme
activity!”

“I think he's a little young. Maybe next New Year's Eve,” Ally said, shaking her head. “Let's go get some of Luke Ely's chili. I've heard it's the best.”

But Sam had decided to have dessert first. With her hands free, Sam headed toward the potluck table to grab a piece of Gram's cherry pie.

She didn't get very far before she heard Preston talking to Dad. “I hear you're in the wild horse sanctuary business now, too,” he said, and Sam had to listen to Dad's answer.

She turned in time to see Dad's good-natured grimace.

“They can stay there for now,” he said, but Brynna was holding up four fingers and mouthing a word in Sam's direction.

It took Sam a couple minutes to understand she was saying, “Forever.”

The music turned wild as Callie, in jeans and a
University of Nevada sweatshirt, joined in on her flute.

Catching Sam's eye, Callie raised her hand from her instrument to give a thumbs-up. Sam clapped in the air, then returned the gesture, because it was the first time she'd seen Callie since hearing her friend had received a college scholarship. Sam had no idea what the zoology professors would think about Callie's chartreuse hair and the rhinestone glittering in her nostril, but she sure wished she could be there to watch.

“Oh, Sam, before you go,” Mrs. Allen said, grabbing her sleeve, “I have a note for you from Darby.”

“I was kind of hoping she'd change her mind and come,” Sam said.

“We were, too,” Trudy said, “but that girl has a one-track mind and she's just in love with that sorrel horse.”

“We've got the filly up on her feet,” Preston said. “And by
we
, I mean Darby, but she stood still long enough for me to get a picture of them together.”

Sam stood on her toes, trying to see the photograph, but she missed her chance when Ryan passed it to Jed Kenworthy.

“Don't hog it, Dad,” Jen joked when Jed stared at the photo as if spellbound. When she reached for it, Jed held on and tapped it with his index finger.

“I know this horse.”

“Dad, she's wild,” Jen pointed out.

“Didn't used to be. See that little white splatter marking on her chest? Did you ever see one like it before? Lila!” Jed called for his wife.

“Well, no,” Jen said. She looked over at Sam and made a whirling motion next to her head as if her dad had gone crazy.

But Sam wasn't so sure. The golden filly had looked strangely familiar to her, too, although it had been her conformation, not her marking, that she'd noticed.

“Hey, Lila, come take a look at this,” Jed yelled again.

Jen's mother was busy showing off a locket her husband had given her for Christmas, but she walked back to him, smiling as she sipped a soft drink.

She took the picture casually, then lowered the soda can from her lips. She jammed the can in Jen's direction, expecting her to take it.

Jen did, and Lila walked toward the fire to inspect the photo in better light.

“It's her! Kitty's foal!” Lila gasped. “The one we sold to Shan Stonerow! Where did she turn up?”

“Wild, according to your daughter,” Jed said, jerking a thumb at Jen.

“Don't blame me! She's been running loose on the range for at least a couple years.” Jen glanced at Sam for confirmation and Sam nodded, but after that, Sam didn't hear anything else her friend said.

Kitty's foal.
Lila's words echoed in Sam's mind.

Princess Kitty's foal had been sired by Dad's mustang Smoke. If Jen's parents were right, that made the golden mustang a full sister to the Phantom. No wonder she'd looked familiar.

All the color and noise of the party spun around Sam as if she were on a merry-go-round.

“Well, isn't that a nice coincidence,” Mrs. Allen said, pressing Darby's note into Sam's hand.

But it wasn't nice, Sam thought. Jake's grandfather, Mac Ely, had told her Shan Stonerow's horse-training method consisted of “showing them who's boss.” A horse with the same bloodlines as the Phantom wouldn't respond well to such treatment.

“…tried to break her the hard way…,” Jed was saying. “…Called her a monster…rolling eyes, charging and high-headed…”

Sam couldn't catch all that Jed was saying, but none of it was good. The note crumpled in her hand.

“Now, be sure to read that,” Mrs. Allen said, seeing what Sam had done. “She's expecting a call from you tomorrow.”

“I will. I really like Darby,” Sam said. She smoothed the note out. “I was just, uh, thinking of something else.”

The front porch light glowed above the empty spot where the Ely brothers and Callie had been playing. They'd deserted their guitars and headed for the food.