Western Star (11 page)

Stevie was right. Carole didn’t see it that way.

“You just wanted to ruin it for me!” she blurted out. “Oh, it’s all fine and dandy if Lisa has a boyfriend everywhere in the world, but the minute Carole’s interested in a boy, it’s not okay—especially if he’s richer, more famous, and more handsome even than Skye Ransom!”

Lisa was so astonished by the outburst that she didn’t know what to say. She stammered, “C-Carole, I didn’t mean—I mean, I
never
—I don’t know what to say.”

Carole looked as if she had more to say, but then she stopped. She picked up her toothbrush and strode into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Lisa was stunned. Carole really liked Gary. Why hadn’t she believed that? She hadn’t believed it because it was totally illogical. But there was something else more important coming through here, a true realization. It didn’t matter whether Carole liked Gary or not. It was Carole’s job to decide what to tell Gary, not Lisa’s.

Lisa felt rotten. She felt low. She felt miserable. There was an empty pit in her stomach and a pain in her heart. She’d hurt her very best friend. She should have known better.

The bathroom door opened.

“Carole, I’m sorry,” Lisa began.

“Forget about it,” Carole said. “It wasn’t going to work anyway.”

“But I—”

“I said forget it.”

Lisa stopped apologizing. However, she thought it would be a very long time before she actually forgot about what had happened.

For a few minutes a silence hung in the room. Then Stevie came to the rescue.

“So, how were the horses this evening? Everybody warm and cozy?”

“Yes,” Lisa told the group. “And glad for the carrots, too. Marshmallow especially.”

“Good, I’m glad to know the horses are all safe,” Kate said.

That was when Lisa remembered the phone conversation she’d overheard. She’d been reluctant to share it with Gary, but she could certainly confess to her friends that she’d heard something she shouldn’t have. She told them about picking up the phone.

“Your dad said something about the Butchers. Who are they?” Lisa asked. “Another country-western singing group?”

Stevie laughed a little. Kate didn’t.

“He said he thought it was the butchers?”

“The Butcher family gang?” Stevie asked.

“No, I don’t think that’s what he meant,” Kate said. “Usually when people are talking about horses and butchers, they mean something else.”

The reality hit The Saddle Club then. “You mean there could be a group stealing horses in order to serve them up?” Stevie asked, wide-eyed.

“It happens sometimes,” Kate said. The reality was that in some parts of the world, people ate horsemeat and considered it a delicacy.

“Oh no!” Lisa said, suddenly remembering the two dun mares and the gelding playing in the high meadow.

“It can’t happen!” said Carole.

“We’ve got to stop them!” said Stevie.

“We?” asked Kate.

“Your dad will do what he can and that’s all fine and good, but he and his friends are in town and we’re right here.”

“More important, we’re the ones who know who’s behind this,” said Lisa.

“What?” Kate asked.

“Those two guys you thought were dudes,” Lisa said. “Remember how even you couldn’t believe somebody was dumb enough to mistake a broken fence for a gate? Well, they didn’t make that mistake. They broke the fence in order to make it a gate—for the horses they’d stolen from the Westerly ranch.”

“Oh no,” Kate said. “Of course you’re right. We’ve actually
talked
to these guys. We can identify them. But they’re probably miles from here by now. That was yesterday afternoon when we saw them.”

“No, I don’t think they’ve gone very far,” Lisa said.

“What makes you say that?” Stevie asked.

“Because I think I saw one of them, or maybe both of them, in the snowstorm this morning. I saw a light. I thought it was Frank, but he told me he wasn’t carrying a flashlight. I definitely saw a flashlight. And I called out to help the person. Nobody answered. The only reason somebody wouldn’t answer a call like that in a storm like we had this morning is if that person had no business being where they were: on Bar None property. Those guys aren’t far away. And if they’re still nearby, so are the horses.”

“Now I know for sure we’ve got to do something,” Stevie said. “We have to call your dad back, Kate, and tell him what we know. Then we’ve got to take action. Saddle Club action!”

“But what?” Kate asked.

“That’s the part I don’t know for sure,” Stevie said. “I’ll think of something, though. I always do. In the meantime, our ride tomorrow morning is really important. We’ve got to get out of here as early as possible, no matter what the weather is. There are horses to save, and we’re the ones to rescue them!”

“What about Gary?” Carole asked. “I didn’t think he was a really good rider. Will he get in the way?”

Carole’s observation surprised Lisa. When she thought about it, though, maybe it wasn’t so surprising. It would be hard to imagine Carole being so lovestruck that she wouldn’t notice someone’s riding skills. Lisa saw an opportunity to do some good where before she’d done only harm. She took it.

“He may be a better rider than we think,” she said.

“Really?” Kate asked. Lisa did not miss the surprise in her voice.

“Well, he told me he could ride before he could walk. He won his first rodeo competition when he was three, and he’s got more rodeo trophies for cutting and roping than he does platinum records.”

“He’s only got one platinum record,” said Carole, who would, of course,
know.

“Well, then he has at least two rodeo trophies. That’s more than I can say,” said Lisa.

“Then it’s settled. He should come along,” said Stevie.

Kate set the alarm clock. “We’ll leave before dawn,” she said, pulling on a jacket and boots. “I’m going to go call Dad.”

“We shouldn’t ride bareback,” Carole suggested after Kate left.

That made sense. This wasn’t a pleasure ride. This was
serious business. The lives of many horses could be on the line.

A minute later Kate reappeared. Her face looked grim.

“What’s the matter?” asked Stevie.

“The phone’s dead. The storm must have knocked it out,” Kate answered. “It looks like we’re on our own.”

O
N
T
UESDAY MORNING
the girls rose in the darkness. They dressed quickly and quietly, intent on getting to work. Carole and Lisa seemed to be ignoring each other. It was easier not to talk at all.

They left the bunkhouse. Kate headed for the Creek Suite to get Gary and fill him in on the day’s plan. The others went directly to the corral. Nobody had asked John to have the horses ready, so they rounded them up and saddled them themselves. By the time Kate and Gary arrived, the work was almost finished. Lisa tugged the cinch on Spot’s saddle one notch tighter and then handed the reins to Gary. Everybody mounted up. Stevie brought out the lariats and gave one to each of the riders.

“What’s this?” Gary asked her.

“It’s a lariat,” Stevie said automatically.

“What’s it for?”

“To lasso stray horses,” she said. He took the rope and hung it on his saddle horn as the girls did. It wasn’t until Stevie was in her saddle that she thought it odd to have to explain the purpose of a lariat to someone who allegedly had two shelves full of rodeo prizes. She kept the thought to herself.

“Let’s go,” Kate said.

They were off. Kate led the way. The air was clear. There was no more snow falling, but in the dim light of dawn, the riders could see a now-familiar ominous cast to the morning sky. All around them the earth was covered with the fruits of yesterday’s storm. It was a pure, sleek, brushed white. The wind had pushed the snow into drifts, so it was easy for the riders to make their way where the snow was shallow. If they went into the drifts, the horses’ hooves splashed white snow in front of them. Kate wanted to make things easier for the horses. She stuck to the places where the snow wasn’t too deep.

“This way!” Kate said, picking a path around a particularly deep drift. The others followed her.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where they should start looking. They had to find the main herd and look for signs that some of the horses had left—or been taken. They passed Parson’s Rock and turned toward the
meadow where the herd had been for the last few days. More important, it was the meadow where Lisa and John had left protected food for them. The horses were almost certainly still in that area.

Kate was still in the lead. Carole and Christine were right behind her. Then came Lisa, followed by Gary and finally Stevie. Lisa could hear Spot’s hoofs clumping and even squeaking in the snow behind her. In the midst of such a pleasant and peaceful setting, it was almost hard to remember the serious mission they had set for themselves.

Kate drew Moonglow to a halt at the crest of a ridge. Carole and Christine drew up next to her. Lisa, Gary, and Stevie joined them as they reached the top.

“There they are,” Kate said. The herd was huddled in the meadow below. Most of them had their heads lowered while they rested. A few had wandered over to the little lean-to and were taking advantage of the remaining hay John and Lisa had brought out. It was a peaceful winter scene, except for one thing. The herd was only half the size it had been the first time they’d seen it.

There was still no sign of the playful trio of the dun mares and the gelding. And there was no indication that part of the herd had broken off voluntarily, because if that had happened, they surely would have returned for the food John and Lisa had put out.

“Something is definitely wrong here,” Carole said.

“And we’re going to figure out what it is and fix it,” Stevie said.

“Let’s go down there and look around,” Lisa said. “Though that’ll be hard because we don’t know what we’re looking for, do we?”

“We’re going to know it when we see it,” said Stevie.

One of the things Stevie’s friends liked about her was that she was always certain she’d find a way to solve problems—even when she wasn’t certain what the problems were.

The riders walked their horses slowly toward what was left of the herd. They didn’t want to frighten the horses and scatter them into the rugged countryside. They also didn’t want to make it harder to find clues by creating a profusion of hoofprints in the snow.

Lisa went over to the lean-to. She wanted to see how it had fared in the storm and find out how much hay was left. If more snow was coming, John might need to bring out more hay.

She dismounted when she got to the lean-to. Two horses were there, munching hay. Chocolate joined them. There was plenty of hay left, enough even if more snow came today. The lean-to had kept the hay mostly dry. Some of the hay was so far back in the little tent that it might be hard for the horses to reach it. Lisa pulled the remaining bales forward and broke them into flakes.

The world around her seemed to be a mixture of gleaming white outside and light brown under the protection of the lean-to. But then something gleaming white inside the lean-to caught Lisa’s attention. Three things, actually. Lisa crouched down and looked. There, at her feet, were three cigarette butts. Lisa shook her head. Some people didn’t care at all about the welfare of horses! What kind of a creep would leave a disgusting cigarette butt where a horse might mistake it for wholesome food? Automatically Lisa picked up the butts and slipped them into her pocket. She’d throw them away later where no horse could get them.

Lisa remounted Chocolate and joined her friends standing at the edge of the herd.

“Twenty-three horses,” Kate said as she finished counting the animals around her. “I know the herd was larger than that yesterday.”

“I would have said fifty,” Carole said. “It’s hard to tell because without all this snow on the ground, they were more spread out, but definitely there were more than these twenty-three.”

“At least the mare is still here,” Stevie observed, pointing to the heavily pregnant mare, which lumbered awkwardly toward a small patch of grass. “Boy, is she going to be relieved when that foal makes its appearance,” Stevie said.

The riders sat on their horses and looked around.

“What do we do now?” Christine asked, posing the question they’d all been asking themselves.

“We follow the trail,” Gary said.

“What trail? Where?” Stevie asked him.

“Over there,” he said. “It’s clear as can be. The trail leads up out of the meadow, headed north.”

“Those prints lead into hilly, treacherous country,” Kate said. “Look at the mountain beyond.” She pointed to the rocky terrain which would make it almost impossible to ride one horse, much less move an entire herd.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I definitely see a trail of hoofprints. That’s where you’re going to find your missing herd,” Gary declared.

“But it looks like prints from just a couple of horses,” Christine said.

“No, that’s not just a couple of horses,” Gary said. “That’s at least a dozen—maybe two dozen. And a few of the horses have riders, too.”

“What makes you say that?” Carole asked, looking carefully at the marks in the snow.