Snowfire (2 page)

Even as a guess, Cade's explanation didn't ring true. The mare had just seen Luna Dancer playing with the other foals as they herded the cattle past, and she'd merely glanced at him. But now the mare was acting provoked and protective.

Without slowing, Cade stood in his stirrups and scanned the hilltops and gullies.

“The only stallion around is Kanaka Luna. She's used to him,” Cade mused. “Else I'd say that's what's got her nerved up.”

Luna wasn't the only stallion who'd been on the ranch lately, and she and Cade both knew it.

“It could be Black Lava,” Darby said.

She pictured the dangerous black stallion, but Cade snorted. “He's not dumb enough to come back here again.”

“You like him.” Darby heard her accusing tone just as she realized that was why Cade had answered that way. He'd admired the stallion for a long time, and he didn't want Black Lava to risk a return. After all, Jonah had threatened to shoot him.

The stallion's herd should be living in Crimson Vale, the lush waterfall valley where Cade had once lived. After the tsunami, the wild horses had been herded ashore and eventually relocated to Sky Mountain to keep them away from the tsunami-tainted water.

Cade shook his head, but he didn't look like he had any brainpower left for arguing. Hula Girl moved with
mincing steps, and all of Cade's attention was focused on her.

“What if Snowfire drove Black Lava off his territory?” Darby asked, and Cade flashed her a look that clearly instructed her to be quiet.

But it could be—she'd seen Snowfire, the wild white stallion whose herd ranged on Sky Mountain. In the midst of a volcanic eruption, he'd still looked mighty. Muscular and wise, with a long, curly mane, he ruled over Sky Mountain and would not welcome an invading stallion in his territory.

A fight between those two stallions—Snowfire, powerful and smart, against Black Lava's strength and youth—would be like a collision of thunderclouds, complete with bolts of lightning, Darby thought.

When Hula Girl blasted a warning neigh northward, across the pastures, Darby knew whichever horse had lost that battle might have been driven onto ‘Iolani Ranch lands whether he wanted to be there or not.

C
ade might have seen the steer first if he hadn't taken Hula Girl on ahead, making her back up in a straight line, then perform a side pass, forcing her to think of where she was putting her feet, instead of the disturbing scent on the wind.

But it was Baxter who sighted the steer, and jolted Darby from her daydream of wild stallions.

Unlike the red Hereford cattle they'd been herding, this steer's coat was a mix of brown, yellow, and black. But the most distinctive thing about him was a crumpled horn.

The broken ends of the horn stuck up, ragged and discolored with dried blood.

That injury has to hurt,
Darby guessed. The
wandering steer was in no mood to be herded. He might have sensed Baxter's inexperience, too, because he struck his cloven hoof at the grass, then lowered his head.

Would he charge? That broken horn hinted he'd done it before.

She wasn't a matador and he wasn't a fighting bull, but Darby was learning that range cattle were not the same animals she'd seen in storybooks and on milk cartons. Some—like this one—could be downright fierce.

Baxter snorted and strained against the reins, trying to lower his own head.

“A face-off is not a great idea, Bax,” Darby whispered.

A horse and a steer wouldn't really charge each other, would they? She tried not to think of a Spanish bullring, of sharp horns heaving gaily decorated horses off the ground.

Darby shortened her reins even more, sat hard into her saddle, and made Baxter back away. “He's just showing off,” she told the blue roan. “We're not going to fight about it.”

Cade's high-pitched whistle blasted into the air, summoning Jack and Jill.

Darby had forgotten all about the cow-wise Australian shepherds, but Cade hadn't.

“Come by,” he told the dogs, and they raced clockwise around the steer, bringing him toward Cade until
the paniolo signaled them to move the animal to the Upper Sugar Mill pasture.

“Wait,” Cade said to Darby, as he sent Hula Girl between the two dogs, right on the steer's heels.

They moved at a lope, right up the hill and through the dense green grasses, about ten times as fast as she and Cade had moved the first bunch.

Darby's heart quit pounding and she laughed with relief. She felt a little embarrassed at the speed with which Cade could do the task without her, but she tried to concentrate on memorizing the many risks that could pop up if you worked with living, thinking creatures. Like cows.

When Cade returned, Hula Girl was prancing and blowing importantly through her nostrils. Obviously the mare wasn't worried anymore.

“Do you think it was that steer—?” Darby asked, and maybe because he let her get only half of it out, Cade didn't exactly answer her question.

“She's okay now,” he said, nodding down at his horse, and he was right. Whatever danger Hula Girl had sensed had passed.

As they rode down the mountainside Darby stayed focused on Baxter's every movement. She watched his ears, the angle of his head, and the swishing of his tail. She felt for tension beneath the saddle. Even though Baxter had shown no signs of bucking today, she reminded herself that his nickname was
Buckin'
Baxter.

According to Jonah, a horse couldn't buck if he was moving forward with his head up, so Darby kept her reins in straight lines to the snaffle rings in order to keep the thin metal bars in place, assuring the gelding that she was paying attention.

When the path widened, she moved Baxter forward so that she could talk to Cade. “Jack and Jill really handled that cow.”

“Jonah's an amazing trainer. He's got all the dogs thinking they're caretakers.”

Darby raised her eyebrows, and Cade went on.

“They don't take any nonsense from cattle, but they don't run them or bark a lot. A scared cow uses more calories and runs off fat.”

“Because they earn their keep, uh, by the pound, right?” Darby said.

Cade nodded, but his brown eyes met Darby's, checking to see whether she understood.

“I get it,” she told him. “I know they're sold for meat. Kimo said each cow's worth about a thousand dollars.”

Cade nodded once more, but he didn't look satisfied.

Cade drove her crazy when he expected her to read his mind, but if she demanded he tell her what was wrong, he'd clam up and quit talking altogether.

She knew Jonah's cattle business barely broke even. She knew the market for beef that was grass fed—rather than stuffed with grain and chemicals—was
growing, but slowly. She also knew the ranch lived by its horses. Was that what Cade was getting at?

“And Jonah wants us to use the
keiki
ranch rodeo to show off the horses, to bring in more money,” Darby said.

“Well, uh, yeah.”

“Because the rodeo attracts tourists and horse people,” Darby added. She wished she hadn't ended the sentence with a sigh. Just because she was attached to every animal on the ranch didn't mean she didn't understand business.

As Darby stroked Baxter's neck, his jog turned lighter. He liked to be appreciated and he liked her touch.

Guilt panged through her chest, leaving an ache. Baxter, Hula Girl, and Conch were the horses Jonah hoped to sell. Practicing on Baxter made her like him more—but also made him more salable.

“Here's the thing,” Cade blurted. He looked straight ahead, through Hula Girl's ears, instead of facing Darby. “I know you didn't mean to, but runnin' Baxter after cattle and yelling at 'em—that runs off fat, too.”

Darby's face went hot.

Get back!
she'd whooped at the cattle, while she'd swung her arm around. Then she'd chased after the calf, which was probably okay, but she'd swung Baxter around hard and galloped crazily back at them.

So that was what Cade had been trying to tell her
by talking about the dogs.

This Hawaiian habit of telling stories to make a point didn't always get through to her mainland brain.

“Sorry,” Darby said, and Cade must have felt embarrassed, too, because he not only started a conversation, he changed the subject.

“So, uh. It was really nice of Kimo to repair Manny's old truck for Mom,” he said.

“Kimo's the best,” she agreed, adding to herself that Cade's mom, Dee, was lucky that everyone around her was willing to forget she'd been a bad mother, and give her a second chance.

“I want to repay him, and I was thinking…” Cade's face brightened. “It wouldn't be a big deal, but I bet he'd like Mom's coco-mac cookies. Coconut and macadamia nuts…” He drew the words out and closed his eyes as if he tasted one. “She made them every Friday before…you know.”

Darby was pretty sure she
did
know. Dee had made them before she hooked up with Manny, the stepfather who'd forced Cade to squeeze into ancient burial caves in the pali, the sea cliffs, in search of treasure. Of course, it was illegal and scary—there were skeletons in there—but Manny had beaten Cade when he resisted.

Once Jonah found out what Manny was up to, he had taken Cade in. Cade had been Jonah's foster—or
hanai'd
, in Hawaiian—son ever since.

Now that Manny was in jail, Cade was thinking about returning to live with his mother in their ram-shackle house in Crimson Vale.

I'm just settling in,
Darby thought.
I don't want Cade and the horses going away!

“Well, the truck's running, anyway,” he said, “so Honi's going home.”

“Cool!” Darby said, and she couldn't help giving a little bounce in the saddle. “Now Hoku can come home to her corral!”

Cade laughed, so Darby knew he understood, and she didn't have to rush to explain that while she thought Dee's white pony was sweet, Honi's illness had been the reason Hoku had been exiled from her own corral to the pastures below.

As Sun House, the main ranch house, came into view, Darby felt a cozy sense of home. She and Jonah lived downstairs, and her friend Megan shared the upstairs apartment with her mom, the ranch manager who'd asked Darby to call her Aunty Cathy.

One uphill trail would take Darby back to the house, to her room, to studying, but they were riding past the broodmare pasture, and Darby couldn't help looking for her horse.

The filly was easy to pick out. She gleamed red-gold in the late-afternoon sunlight and she didn't look like a Quarter Horse. She was a mustang from the high desert of Nevada.

Hoku lifted her head and looked across the grass,
past the other horses, straight at Darby.

“I've got to—”

“I can pony Baxter the rest of the way back,” Cade offered before she finished.

“Would you? Thanks. And thanks for not reminding me about studying.”

“Books'll wait. She might not,” Cade said.

Darby loosely knotted her reins and handed Cade the free end of Baxter's neck rope before she dismounted.

She burst into a jog, headed toward Hoku. The young mustang's ears lifted. Arching her neck, she set off, trotting to meet the girl she trusted.

“Hoku.” Darby sang the name, and her heart soared along with her voice. The filly had been just a little standoffish lately, and Darby didn't know if Hoku resented being displaced from her corral or if she'd decided her natural place was among horses, not humans. But now it didn't matter. Hoku stopped right in front of Darby. The filly dusted her lips over Darby's ponytail, doing it so lightly, it gave her goose bumps. Darby tried not to shiver as the horse flared her nostrils and bumped her nose against Darby's shoulder.

Jonah would say Hoku was exerting her dominance, but he couldn't see the gentleness in Hoku's eyes.

“There's my girl.” Darby stroked Hoku's neck, but her touch must have been too light, because Hoku's skin shivered and she tossed her head. Darby parted
the flaxen forelock covering the mustang's eyes and said, “I've missed you.”

Hoku's heart would probably always long to run free, but right this minute, the filly seemed content to be half-tame.

“Guess what?” she asked. “Soon you'll be back in your own corral. Home, sweet home.”

Hoku looked satisfied by that revelation, and even though Darby wasn't sure the filly understood, she wondered if her horse's memories of the open range were fading. She felt guilty for robbing the mustang of her wildness.

“Isn't that just like a human?” she asked Hoku. People spotted something wild and beautiful—like a mustang—whose untamed nature thrilled them, and then set about subduing the spirit that had made it so magnificent.

“Would you walk me partway home if I apologized for my species?” Darby asked.

Together they walked in lazy steps, Darby leading her horse by a strand of mane. They were enjoying a breeze that couldn't decide if it should cool down for the approaching evening, when Hoku jerked away.

Darby was about to apologize when she realized Hoku hadn't been pulling away from her. Something on the ridge had caught the filly's attention. With her head flung high and her entire body tensed, Hoku focused on…what?

Darby stood almost cheek to cheek with her horse,
lining up her gaze with Hoku's.

There!
Against the copper sky, she made out the silhouette of a horse. Two horses. Just then Black Lava and his herd spilled over the ridgetop.

Hula Girl had been right. There
was
a stallion nearby.

No—there were two of them.

Snowfire was a white crest on the dark wave of horses, and as soon as the mares had widened the gap between themselves and the pale stallion, Black Lava wheeled to face him.