Storm Chaser (10 page)

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Authors: Chris Platt

BOOK: Storm Chaser
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At least there was a good chance there would be girl visitors to the ranch. That idea brought a smile to Jessica's face and she quickened her step, but when she reached the corrals, she halted in her tracks.

Duncan stood in the middle of Rusty's pen while Wyatt waited outside the gate. Rusty wore a saddle and Chase had a lasso around her neck with the end of it snubbed to Rusty's saddle horn.

“What are you doing?” Jessica cried in alarm. “Rusty can't be ridden and Storm Chaser will choke if that lasso tightens.”

“Stay where you are and be quiet!” Duncan ordered. His voice was low and urgent, and his blue eyes flashed.

Wyatt nodded and held up a hand to motion her to stay in place.

Jessica crossed her arms, angry at Duncan and Wyatt for being so bossy. But how could she keep quiet? Her brother knew Rusty was
not
supposed to be ridden. But as she watched him speak softly to the animals, her doubts began to fade.

Duncan quieted Chase with the low, steady drone of his voice. When the paint stood calmly, her ears forward, he picked up Rusty's lead rope and led him forward. Wyatt opened the gate for him. Chase balked when the rope tightened and Jessica feared there would be an accident. But the filly soon stepped forward, falling into line behind Rusty as he exited the pen. Both horses followed Duncan to the round pen. Wyatt walked quietly beside them.

When they were inside the training circle, Duncan quickly untied the rope from the saddle horn and handed Rusty to Wyatt. The Paiute boy tied the gelding to a tree. Jessica looked to her brother. “What are you going to do with Chase? How are you going to get the rope off her when we can't even touch her?”

Duncan shrugged. “Who says I want to take the rope off?”

With that, he took a firm grip on the loose end of the rope and smooched Chase into a lope. The spirited filly cocked her tail over her back and ran in a wide circle around Duncan, snorting and tossing her head as her hooves churned the sand under her feet. Her injured foot seemed to be totally healed.

“Wow, look at her go! “Jessica said to Wyatt, who had come to stand beside her. Rusty whinnied in concern. “Don't worry, she's okay,” Jessica told the old horse. “She's just blowing off steam and feeling good.”

She watched the paint, marveling at her speed and agility. Storm Chaser's muscles rippled under her shiny coat as she cantered around the ring. Jessica imagined climbing aboard the beautiful horse's back, feeling the power of the paint's stride and the sting of mane whipping against her face as they raced across the Nevada desert.

But Chase isn't mine,
Jessica thought,
and she never will be.
She'd lost the filly before she ever really had her.

Before the barn burned, there might have been a small possibility of owning Chase. But now that dream was out of the question.

“This filly is one beautiful animal,” Wyatt said, shifting his hat down low over his eyes. “I worked with her a lot when she was young, and I didn't want my dad to sell her. She's smart like her mama. Once she comes around and remembers what she was taught a while back, she's going to be one heck of a horse.”

Storm Chaser made another quick round of the pen and Duncan let her slow down to a trot. He nodded for Jessica to enter the pen. She waited for the paint to pass the gate, then quickly squeezed through the bars and ran to the center of the round pen to stand beside her brother.

The black-and-white filly circled at a trot, still bucking and kicking up sand. “What do you want me to do?” Jessica asked.

Duncan handed her the end of the rope. “Okay, Jess, I want you to get a halter on this filly before we go up to the house for lunch.”

Great,
Jessica thought.
Now I'll have my first huge failure. And in front of Wyatt, too.
Chase hadn't let her within four feet of her head since she'd arrived at the ranch. How could she get a halter on her? She was going to flunk out of Duncan's training program—with Wyatt watching.

TEN

Jessica gulped. She had a hard time just trying to make a horse turn on cue. How could Duncan expect her to halter Storm Chaser in only twenty minutes? She kept her eyes on Chase as the paint circled the round pen with her tail in the air.

“What now?” she asked her brother.

Duncan leaned on the outside of the pen. “Let her canter a few more rounds in that direction and then make her turn and go the other way. But watch out. When she turns, it's going to put that rope around her hindquarters, and maybe up under her tail. When that happens, most horses go a little crazy. She'll probably start bucking and hopping around pretty good until she figures out that it's nothing that's going to hurt her. But that's what we want. She needs to figure it out on her own.”

“But what if I can't hold onto her?” Jessica said, beginning to panic as her mind raced every which way. What if she got hurt—just like her father feared?

“You'll do fine,” Wyatt said confidently. “You're in a round pen. She can't go anywhere but in circles.” He grinned at her, and she heard Wyatt chuckle.

Sure,
Jessica thought. It was easy for her brother and Wyatt to make jokes. They'd done this a hundred times. Keeping her eyes on the filly, she slowly reached down and picked up the lunge whip Duncan had left in the middle of the pen.

She took a deep breath and stepped one foot forward, hoping she was ahead of the imaginary line that would cause the filly to turn. Chase slammed on the brakes, setting her heels and hindquarters low and spinning in the opposite direction. She ran several steps and Jessica began to release the breath she'd been holding.

That's when all chaos broke loose. Just as Duncan had predicted, the rope ran up under Chase's tail, and the rodeo was on! Chase shot forward and Jessica cried out as the rope bit into her hands.

“Stay with her, Jess!” Duncan shouted from where he stood on the rail. “Make her go faster so she lines out and stops that bucking. Get her to do what you ask. Show her you're the one in charge. Horses respect and follow the lead horse. You've got to prove to her that the lead horse is
you.

Jessica lifted the lunge whip and cracked it in the air. There was no need to touch the horse with it. Chase would run from the sound. “Get up,” she commanded, in as steady a voice as she could manage. She held onto the rope, giving and taking with the motion of the horse as Chase continued to buck, trying to rid herself of the rope under her tail.

After another round, the rope swung free, the bucking slowed, and the filly continued around the ring at a steady rhythm. Jessica allowed herself a small smile.
I can do this!
she told herself.

“Good job, Jess,” Wyatt praised her.

“Now tell your horse what a good girl she is, too,” Duncan said. “Let her hear the sound of your voice, and keep it light and pleasant. She's doing what you want. Reward her with your voice and let her break into a trot. See the way her inside ear is tipping toward you? She's paying attention now.”

Jessica nodded. The filly did seem to be paying attention to her. “Good girl, Chase,” she crooned, and was delighted to see the paint's full blaze swing in her direction as she continued to trot the circle. “That's my good girl.”

“Excellent!” Duncan said. “Make her go another two rounds. Then make your body go quiet and ask her to whoa. We want Chase to halt and turn in to face you.”

The next two rounds felt like an eternity as Jessica gripped the end of the rope, waiting to see if Chase would give her the desired response. When the time came, she laid down the whip, let her free arm hang at her sides, and said, “Whoa, girl, whoa.” The paint trotted another half-length of the pen, her ears flicking to the center to gauge what Jessica was asking.

The paint pulled herself to a walk, then halted and turned into the center, taking two extra steps toward Jessica.

Jessica held out her hand, beckoning the filly to come to her. But Chase stayed in place, her coat sweaty and her sides heaving from the run. The paint's nostrils extended, blowing and sniffing, trying to catch Jess's scent.

Duncan climbed through the rails and entered the pen. “Nice work, Jess. I'll take over now and get that rope off her neck.”

Chase shifted her feet but stood where she was, watching the two of them.

“I thought I was supposed to put a halter on her,” Jessica said.

Wyatt and Duncan laughed. “I was just kidding,” her brother said. “You go on up to the house. I'll get the halter on her and be right up.”

“Yeah, right.” Jessica chuckled. There was no way her brother would get that halter on Chase in the next five minutes. She wished she could watch him try, but she heard her mother calling them to their nightly meal. She waved to the boys and headed to the house.

She let herself in through the back door and washed her hands in the kitchen sink, wondering if Wyatt would be joining them for dinner. Ten minutes later, Duncan walked into the kitchen by himself, and Jessica felt both disappointed and relieved. She was starving, but she wasn't sure she could manage to eat with him across the table.

Duncan had a huge grin on his face as he stuck his hands under the faucet.

“What are you so happy about, Dunce?” Jessica asked, following her brother to the table.

Duncan shrugged and filled his plate with spaghetti. Once he started shoveling it into his mouth, Jess knew he wouldn't answer her question. But she had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with Chase.

Mrs. Warner passed the salad and Jessica put some on her plate, being careful not to get any of the onions or green peppers.

“Just another few days of hard work and the cabins will be ready,” Mrs. Warner said.

“I'll be down to check on the plumbing tomorrow morning,” Mr. Warner said, stuffing a big bite of garlic bread into his mouth. “The lumberyard will be delivering another load of boards in the afternoon. That'll keep Dunce and me busy for a while. The Lightfoots are coming over tomorrow to help with the framing.”

Jessica dug into her meal with gusto. In a little over a week, their guests would be here!

They'd already been discussing various ranch activities for the visitors: swimming in the lake, hiking, fishing in one of the nearby streams, riding the trails, playing horseshoes. They'd even planned a cattle drive. Everyone would take turns introducing the guests to the different trails and activities. Some things the guests could do on their own, once they were familiar with the routine. The big events like the weenie roast, the hayride, and the cattle drive would be handled by her parents.

Just wait until I tell Marybeth about the cattle drive,
Jessica thought. She should ask her parents if her friend could go. After all the hard work the kid had put in, she doubted her mom and dad would say no. Marybeth would love it…especially if there were other girls there her age. Maybe if she had friends her own age, she wouldn't be so interested in hanging around with Jessica.

Jessica had never been on a cattle drive, even though her family moved the herd every year. She'd always stayed home with her mom while her father, Duncan, and the Lightfoot boys made the trip. But this year, everyone was going. The only problem was she didn't have a horse of her own to put a saddle on. She couldn't ride Rusty, and she sure didn't want to ride Grizz.

You had to stay on your toes if you rode that ornery nag. It wasn't that he liked to buck or rear, but if you didn't pay close attention, he'd turn around and bite your leg while you were in the saddle. Or untie himself from the hitching line and run home without you. And he wasn't above making a fast turn to see if you'd tumble out of the saddle.

She didn't understand why her dad was worried about her working with the new horses, but didn't seem to be bothered by her riding Grizz. Grizzly always minded her father—but he knew how stubborn that horse could be with other riders. She'd much rather take her chances with Storm Chaser.

Jessica missed riding Rusty. He was totally trustworthy and they'd had some great times together. But even though the old horse was coughing less and his burns were healing, he still wasn't in any condition to bear a rider. He seemed to enjoy his retirement and the companionship of Storm Chaser. She couldn't begrudge him that after all the faithful years he'd carried her.

When dinner ended, Jessica helped her mother wash the dishes, then went down to the horse pens to say good night to Chase and Rusty. She was shocked to see Duncan leading the paint around the training pen—in her blue halter!

For an instant, she felt a twinge of jealousy, wishing she'd been the one who'd put the halter on Chase for the first time. But she quickly dismissed that thought. Once Chase was halter broke, there were all kinds of things Jessica could do with her. “How did you do that?” she asked.

Duncan just smiled and handed her the filly's lead rope. “Walk her around the pen a few times so she gets used to you. Try to touch her all over. She's pretty good for a horse that just came off the range. I'll work with her a little more on haltering, and then she's all yours. Holler if you need help getting her back into her pen. I think she'll be fine.”

Jessica watched as her brother walked away. Now that he acted like he trusted her to handle Storm Chaser, she felt as if she didn't really know anything.

Duncan turned to face her as he backed away. “Come on, Jess, you've been watching Dad and me train horses your entire life. You know what to do.”

Her brother was right, Jessica realized. She knew the basics. And she was sure he would help if she got stuck. She just needed some practice and a little more confidence.

She stared dreamily into Chase's soft brown eyes, imagining herself climbing into the saddle for the first ride. Her father certainly wouldn't allow that. He was afraid she'd get hurt. But he hadn't said anything about ground work.

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