The Mystery of the Zorse's Mask (4 page)

Slowly, I rise to my feet. When Zed isn't looking, I grab the rope.

“Sneak up behind him, then loop it around his neck,” Becca says. “That's my boy. Good Zed,” she coos into his ear.

Here goes nothing
, I think.

I swing out with the rope, toss it around Zed's neck—and miss!

Becca is quick though and grabs the rope. She holds Zed's black mane firmly with one hand as she lassos him with the other.

“Got you!” Becca exclaims. Her eyes shine with triumph … and tears.

Becca leads Zed toward the house, then pauses. “I can't do this … I need some time alone with Zed first … to say good-bye. Tell Mom I'm putting Zed in a barn stall. Leo will probably be here soon. Wait with him on the porch … until that man comes.”

I nod, feeling so bad for her.

As I near the house, I'm startled to see a guy in a western hat sitting on the porch swing beside Becca's mom.
Oh no! Caleb Hunter is already here
, I think—until I get close enough to see his face.

“Leo?” I ask in surprise. “Since when did you go cowboy?”

“You must be referring to my hat.” He tips the tawny-brown hat that's twice the size of his head. “Do you like it?”

“Sure.” I cover my mouth so I won't giggle. Who wears a western hat with a button-down shirt and a pocket protector? Only Leo.

“Kelsey, why is Becca taking Zed into the barn?” Mrs. Morales frowns as she steps off the bench swing and points across the driveway. “I told her to bring him here.”

“She's putting him in a stall so he's easy to catch and—” I hesitate. “To say good-bye.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Morales turns away but not before I see tears in her eyes.

A rumble vibrates the ground. I look up toward the front gate as a white truck pulling a large metallic-blue horse trailer drives through the gate. Gravel spits from the tires as the truck pulls up in front of the house. The driver is shadowed behind a tinted window, so I can't see his face until he comes to a stop and steps out onto the driveway.

Leo may think he looks like a cowboy in the wide-brimmed hat, but this muscular guy in polished leather boots, jeans, and a studded western shirt is the for-real thing. Caleb Hunter has a rugged face, smiling brown eyes, and a swath of sun-streaked brown hair across his tanned forehead.

Becca's mom hurries off the porch to meet him, her hand outstretched.

“Mr. Hunter?” They shake hands. “I'm Renee Morales.”

“Pleasure to meet you, ma'am.”

“No need to be formal,” she says. “Call me Renee.”

“Lovely name for a lovely lady,” he says with a smile so warm that I wonder if he's flirting with Becca's mom.

Leo and I wait on the porch. He nudges me. “Can you hear what they're saying?”

“Mrs. Morales just said she hopes he had a good trip,” I answer.

“I thought she said not to trip,” Leo admits. “Your hearing is better than mine.”

“Not really.” I grin. “I'm lip-reading.”

“What are they saying now?”

“Caleb isn't facing toward me, but Becca's mom is, and she said she's happy to reunite Zed with his family.” I concentrate with both my eyes and ears. “She explained that we call the zorse Zed since we didn't know his name was Domino Effect.”

“Zed is a more logical name for a zorse,” says the very logical Leo. “Zed is the word most English-speaking countries—except the U.S.—use for the letter
Z
.”

“
W
,
X
,
Y
, zed sounds weird,” I say, focusing back on the driveway conversation. “Caleb gestured toward the trailer, but I can't see what he said. Becca's mom told him he'll need to sign papers before he takes Zed. She invited him into the house and offered him iced tea.”

Leo licks his lips. “I like my iced tea with extra sugar.”

“Lemon wedges are yummier … Oh!” I jump up, pointing across the driveway. “Here they come.”

“The paperwork won't take long to fill out,” Mrs. Morales says. She steps onto the wood-slat porch. “Also, I'll need to see proof of ownership.”

Caleb Hunter holds out a folder and electronic tablet. “I got Grandma's certificate of registration—and something better right here on my tablet.”

“I can't wait to see,” Mrs. Morales says so warmly I wonder if she has a thing for cowboys. “I'll bet you're eager to see the zorse too.”

“Sure am.” He drawls out “sure” into two syllables. “Although it pains me knowing someone hurt him.”

“He was near death when we took him in, but now he's healthy as a horse … I mean, a zorse.” She glances over at the bench swing where Leo and I sit, all casual like we aren't eavesdropping.

“How could anyone beat such a gentle creature?” Caleb shakes his head, his voice thick with emotion. “I don't know what happened out in the wild. I'm just glad he's coming home, where he'll be treated like he deserves.”

“My daughter has grown very fond of him too. She's with him in the barn.” Mrs. Morales gestures toward Leo and me. “These are her friends, Kelsey and Leo.”

With a tip of his hat, Caleb Hunter runs his reply together like one word. “Gladtomeetyou.”

Out of loyalty to Becca, I am not glad to meet him, but I'm curious. And the calculating look Leo gives him is sharp with curiosity too.

“My grandma raised Domino Effect—or you can call him Zed if you like,” Caleb Hunter says. “She fussed over him something fierce, pampering and dressing him up in fancy doodads. She even allowed him in the house.” Caleb gazes into Mrs. Morales's eyes. “Seeing him may give her the strength to hold on longer, which means a lot to me. I can't thank you enough for your kindness.”

“Just doing my job,” Mrs. Morales says, but she's blushing. “Let's go inside for the paperwork and iced tea.”

“My pleasure,” he says, then steps forward to open the door for Becca's mother before following her into the house.

“I want to see his proof too,” Leo whispers to me.

“Exactly,” I say. We hurry after the adults.

Minutes later, Leo and I sit at a wooden table in the dining room, sipping lemony-perfect iced tea with Becca's mom and Caleb Hunter.

“These here are the legal documents for Domino,” Caleb says as he hands over a slim blue folder. “He was a birthday gift to Grandma Ellie from Grandpa. When Grandpa died, Zed helped Grandma through her grieving. She loves that zorse like he's her child.”

“He's easy to love.” Mrs. Morales sighs as she glances through the folder.

“When Grandma was in the hospital, I made her a photo video of Zed from when he was just a foal,” Caleb adds as he clicks on his electronic tablet. The background wallpaper shows a cowboy riding an appaloosa.

“That's you,” I say to Caleb, pointing to the screen.

“I was riding before I could walk,” he says proudly. “People come hundreds of miles so I can train their horses. Not to say I haven't had my share of tumbles. A mustang threw me so hard, I landed in barbed wire and got an infection that almost took my arm.” He rolls up his left sleeve, and I wince at the jagged scars pale against his tanned skin.

“It looks painful.” Mrs. Morales frowns with the same softhearted expression I've seen on Becca. “Does it still hurt?”

“No,” he says with a tough-guy shrug. And I swear, he flexes his muscles like he's a body builder.

He starts up the video of Zed's life, propping his tablet in the center of the table, so we all can see.

Zed was such a cute foal, with spindly legs and a gleam of mischief in his big, black eyes. His legs are ringed in black and white stripes, and his flank is darker than the splash of white he has now. In later photos, when Zed is fully grown, he wears a gaudy fly mask trimmed in jewels and his black tail is woven with pink ribbons.

“This here is Grandma, riding him in a parade,” Caleb says.

A sun-wrinkled woman in black jeans and a leather vest sits confidently on a bejeweled pink saddle shiny enough to impress a Sparkler. Her western hat is pink too, and her long braid hangs like a silver mane over her shoulder. She looks a little like Caleb, with a similar straight nose and high cheekbones.

When the slide show ends, Caleb shuts the tablet and stands up from the table. “Thanks for your hospitality, but I need to pack up my zorse and be on my way.”

Mrs. Morales hands him back the folder. “Everything looks in order. It's clear Zed belongs to your grandmother.”

We file out of the house toward the barn.

“You probably already know this,” Mrs. Morales says as the barn door slides open with a creak and ripe smell of hay, “but Zed shies away from men.”

“Can't blame him for preferring women,” Caleb adds with an appreciative look at Mrs. Morales. “But he'll remember me.”

“He doesn't trailer well either,” she adds.

“Don't I know that.” Caleb chuckles. “Danged zorse has to be medicated before he'll get in a trailer. I brought a tranquilizer for the long ride home.”

“Oh, I doubt you'll need that.” Mrs. Morales shakes her black curls. “Becca can calm him down so he'll get into the trailer.”

As we enter the barn, Zed peeks out over the door of the stall as Becca rests her arm around his neck.

“Becca, it's time,” her mother says.

Becca presses her lips tight but doesn't argue. She won't look at her mother, only at Zed. I feel so bad because I wasn't able to help her keep Zed. But Caleb proved he has a right to take Zed. I'm sure Zed will be happy with Caleb's grandmother.

“Come on, Zed.” Becca wipes her eyes, then unlatches the stall. She leads Zed out by a rope.

But the zorse abruptly stops. His nostrils flare, and he lets out a harsh whinny. Caleb lunges forward to help Becca with Zed, but the zorse rears up.

“What's wrong, boy?” Becca tugs the lead rope.

Zed whinnies louder. He swishes his tail and refuses to budge.

“I was afraid of this,” Caleb says. “Last time he saw me, I was getting into the ambulance that took Grandma Ellie away, which spooked him so much he took off and some scumbag beat him.”

“Poor guy has been through a trauma,” Mrs. Morales says.

“I should have taken better care of him,” Caleb says regretfully.

“You'll have to be patient.” Mrs. Morales approaches the zorse with her arm outstretched. “Calm down, Zed. Everything's okay. Caleb will take you back home.”

Beside me, Leo mutters, “He'd rather stay with Becca.”

“I know.”

Zed's whinnies echo through the barn.

“I'm mighty sorry he's so much trouble,” Caleb tells Mrs. Morales. “He never used to be so skittish. He's changed since running away and—” His eyes widen as he points to Zed. “Why isn't he wearing his mask?”

“What mask?” Becca's mother asks as she tries to shove Zed forward.

“His fly mask.” Caleb frowns. “It's custom-made with bejeweled trim.”

“He doesn't need one here.” Mrs. Morales shakes her head. “We don't have a problem with flies.”

“Grandpa gave Grandma the fly mask right before he died.” Caleb frowns. “I know he was wearing it when you found him because I saw it in an online photo. So where is it now?”

Chapter 5

Missing Mask

“I don't know anything about a fly mask,” Mrs. Morales says while struggling to pull Zed out of the stall.

“Sure you do, Mom. Remember it was stuck to—stop it, Zed!” Becca cries out as Zed jerks sideways and the rope slips from her fingers. “Come back here, you ornery zorse!”

I start to chase after Zed, but Leo tugs me back. “You'll only be in the way.”

He's right, which is so annoying. I move aside.

Caleb rushes forward to help, reaching to grab Zed, which freaks out the zorse again. Zed's hooves clatter as he shies away from his owner.

“Becca and I can get him into the trailer,” Mrs. Morales offers.

“Mighty kind of you, ma'am.” Caleb turns to Becca. “Now what were you saying about the fly mask?”

“Kind of busy here.” Becca grits her teeth as she gives the zorse a powerful shove forward. “Zed, don't you dare kick! Watch out, Mom!”

Mrs. Morales jumps sideways to avoid Zed's hooves.

“Zed, stop freaking out and come with me now!” Becca pulls hard on the lead rope. But Zed is stronger and drags Becca back toward the stall.

Mrs. Morales looks over at Caleb. “I hate to ask, but could you go outside so we can calm Zed down?”

“Sure thing,” Caleb says with a polite tip of his hat. “I'll open the trailer so you can walk him right in.”

“That would be great. And take Leo and Kelsey with—hey, stop that!” she cries as Zed swishes her face with his black and white tail.

Being kicked out of the barn is better than being kicked by a zorse, so I follow Caleb through the door Leo holds open for us. As we leave the smell of hay and I breathe in crisp spring air, I can still hear stomping hooves.