The Challenger

by Terri Farley

  When Sam and Jen got off the bus after school the next day, Sam felt their fight was almost forgotten. She was still careful not to mention the cougar or Jen’s dad, but she’d quit weighing her words.

  Now, as the bus pulled away, they stood talking before starting their walks home.

  “I’ll be calling you about my algebra. I don’t get polynomials at all,” Sam moaned. “And I can’t believe it’s only Tuesday.”

  “It’s a challenge fit for Einstein,” Jen agreed. “The week that never ends.”

  Sam laughed in bewilderment. Jen was always saying things like that, as if she had a crush on the dead scientist. Sam promised herself that someday she’d learn what all the fuss was about.

  “Although maybe,” Jen mused, “I shouldn’t hope it does.”

  “Shouldn’t hope the week ends? Why?”

  “Because Princess Rachel will be ruling Gold Dust Ranch for a week.”

  Sam recoiled. “Where’s Linc going?” she asked.

  It wasn’t as if Rachel would have much to do. Mrs. Coley managed the house and Jed Kenworthy ran the ranch. Nothing was likely to go terribly wrong. Still, handing Rachel any control was frightening.

  “New York. To meet Ryan.”

  “Ryan? Rachel’s twin?”

  “That’s the one,” Jen said. “I guess Linc’s combining a business trip with meeting Ryan at the airport when he flies in from London.”

  So that’s why Rachel had dragged her off horse shopping, Sam thought. Ryan lived in England with their mother and he was a serious horseman. Rachel wanted to dazzle him with her new horse. Except she didn’t have one.

  “Was your grandmother supposed to pick you up for something?” Jen asked, shading her eyes as Gram’s Buick rolled toward them.

  It turned out that Jen’s mom had called to say Jen could go riding with Sam without coming home first. Gram looked a little nervous as she explained.

  “Since you two are of a size and Sam has plenty of riding clothes, I thought that would be fine,” Gram said.

  For a few seconds, Jen looked confused. Then her expression turned to hurt.

  “That means my parents are fighting again,” she mumbled to Sam as they climbed into Gram’s backseat. “And they don’t want me around.”

  Sam felt awful, but Jen sounded so certain. There was no point in trying to convince her that she was wrong. Sam decided she would try a different approach to cheer Jen up.

  “Who do you want to ride?” she offered. “Pick any horse on the place.”

  “Wow.” Jen rubbed her hands together and gave a wiggle of delight as if her parents’ problems were forgotten. “Even Popcorn?”

  “Especially Popcorn,” Sam said. Jen was a good rider, so whatever choice she made would be perfect. “Brynna said HARP probably won’t get up and going until at least spring break. We don’t want Popcorn to forget everything he’s learned.”

  Once they reached River Bend, the girls ran upstairs, changed into riding clothes, and talked about where they’d go.

  “We could go toward War Drum Flats,” Jen said. “But if there are mustangs at the water hole, it might be hard for Popcorn.”

  “Yeah, if he saw a whole herd, he might want to join them,” Sam said. Then she thought of something that would really please Jen. “You know what, though? I can’t promise he’s still there, but if he is, I’ll show you a really neat mustang. He’s alone, so I think Popcorn will do fine.”

  Jen looked dubious. “You expect him to be where you last saw him?”

  “He’s sort of a special case,” Sam explained. “Just trust me, okay?”

  The girls hurried downstairs.

  “Gram, is it all right if we ride over to Mrs. Allen’s and see how Faith is doing?” Sam asked. Aspen Creek was hardly out of the way. The detour wouldn’t take more than an extra twenty minutes.

  “I suppose that would be all right,” Gram said, but she looked uneasy. “You girls stay together, now.”

  When Gram or Dad said that, Sam wondered if she should explain that she and Jen went riding or to the mall because they liked to do things together. Why would we split up? Sam wanted to ask. But she didn’t.

  “We will,” she said instead.

  Sam brushed Ace and saddled him while Jen stood in the big pasture with Popcorn.

  When Sam returned, leading Ace and carrying a brush and the tack Jen would need, the albino mustang was still sniffing Jen over.

  Nostrils flaring, Popcorn checked the hand Jen held out for his inspection, then whuffled his lips over the end of one braid and finally nuzzled the top of her head.

  “Do I pass, boy?” Jen asked quietly.

  Popcorn looked away as if he were bored, and Sam decided he no longer considered Jen a threat.

  “Okay, I think you can tack him up,” Sam said.

  “I’m going to spend a little time grooming him,” Jen said.

  “He could use it,” Sam said. Rolling in the mud was an unfortunate habit for a white horse, but Popcorn loved it.

  “Not only that,” Jen said, “but I was reading that since horses in the wild scratch each other’s backs and whisk flies from each other’s faces, they consider you a member of their herd if you do the same.”

  It made sense, Sam thought, so she tried to be patient. She rode Ace up and down the fence, making him turn with quick precision, until Popcorn was brushed and saddled, and Jen had mounted.

  Clumps of mud flew up from Ace’s hind feet as he bolted in front of Popcorn.

  “Hey,” Sam scolded, but Ace didn’t take her reprimand to heart.

  Though he was at least a hand shorter than Popcorn, Ace held his head high. Then, when the albino tried to catch up, Ace flashed his teeth.

  “Since when do you want to lead the way?” Sam asked, shortening her reins.

  “Maybe the cold weather makes him frisky,” Jen said. Then she dipped an arm as if bowing. “After you, my dear Ace.”

  They’d ridden over the bridge and started along the far side of La Charla, toward a group of grazing Herefords, when Jen’s conversation circled back to the Slocums.

  “Can you believe that when Linc meets Ryan, he’s bringing him a new car? And then they’re going to drive across the country together?”

  “If he’s even half as spoiled as Rachel, I can believe it,” Sam said.

  Jen fixed Sam with a strange look, then shook her head.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “Nothing.” Jen rode in silence for a few steps. “Do you remember one of those days when Mrs. Coley gave us a ride home with Rachel?”

  “After I got kicked off the bus,” Sam supplied. Although that memory wasn’t one of her favorites, she hadn’t forgotten.

  “Right. Well, one of those days, Rachel told us that Ryan was the conscience of the family.”

  “I remember,” Sam said, though she couldn’t figure out why Jen was still frowning at her. “But I’ll believe he’s a great guy when I see it for myself. Two out of two members I’ve met from the Slocum family are creeps.”

  “Whatever!” Jen shouted, suddenly angry. Popcorn’s pace faltered.

  “What?” Sam said, surprised by Jen’s outburst.

  “How can you call Rachel spoiled and creepy when you’re hanging out with her?”

  “Are you crazy?” Sam squawked.

  Sam had to shift her attention as Ace tugged at the bit. Maybe the gelding didn’t like the shouting. Maybe he thought the cattle up ahead needed herding. Either way, Sam knew if she didn’t pay attention, and quick, he might misbehave for real.

  “Shhh, boy,” Sam said. As she smoothed her hand along Ace’s neck, Sam realized what Jen meant.

  Still, she gave her friend a minute to settle Popcorn. The albino seemed to trot on tiptoe, and his ears flicked toward Ace. If the bay was worried, he figured he should be, too. When both horses had calmed down, Sam took a deep breath.

  “I’m not hanging out with Rachel,” she insisted. “I did go horse shopping with her. She wants one
that’ll impress Ryan.”

  “So you spent the day with her,” Jen said. “And the difference between that and hanging out is…”

  Sam sighed. Maybe Jen was extra sensitive because her parents were fighting. If so, Sam figured she could be extra patient.

  “The difference is, although I looked at a bunch of cool horses with Rachel, I had a lousy time. I felt ugly and out of place and I couldn’t wait to get away from her.”

  Sam saw Jen hide a smug smile.

  “In fact,” she continued, “I purposely got Rachel to ditch me at the Elys’ place, and Gram picked me up. Driving all over the county with Rachel is torture.

  “This,” Sam said as the horses swung into an easy lope, “is hanging out.”

  Jen smiled, and Sam returned her attention to Ace. The bay gelding was still skittish, and Sam became so focused on him that Jen’s sudden comment puzzled her.

  “This was a bad idea, after all,” Jen muttered. She hauled her reins in tight, but Popcorn bowed his neck and made a low, rumbling nicker.

  When Sam looked ahead, she saw a dozen mustangs mixed among the grazing Herefords. She recognized the Phantom’s tiger dun lead mare, and then she saw the silver stallion himself.

  Fierce and fiery as a knight’s charger, the Phantom moved down the bank of La Charla, preparing to confront another stallion.

  Chapter Twelve

  “It’s Yellowtail,” Sam whispered as the chestnut stallion approached from upriver.

  It would be exciting to watch this confrontation between stallions, but Sam knew that if they’d kept to her plan to drop by Mrs. Allen’s ranch, then cross back over the river to Aspen Creek, Popcorn wouldn’t be acting as if he’d never heard of a saddle.

  Jen fought to keep the white gelding under control. Finally, she turned his head toward his tail. When he got dizzy from spinning, he planted all four hooves and trembled, watching the mustangs ahead.

  “Good work,” Sam said, but Jen brushed off her admiration with a shake of her head.

  “Are you sure it’s Yellowtail?” Jen asked. “It’s been months since we saw that bachelor band.”

  “It’s him,” Sam said.

  Flaxen mane and tail shining in the November sun, the chestnut and his two mares picked their way toward the river.

  “I’ve been thinking about that band a lot,” Sam added, “because Moon was with them.”

  “The black horse you think is the Phantom’s son?”

  “Yep. He’s the mustang I’m taking you to see in Aspen Creek after we visit Mrs. Allen.”

  All at once Sam shivered. She shaded her eyes and scanned the surrounding terrain, looking for Moon. Aspen Creek canyon was only a few miles downriver. If Moon showed up here now, it could mean trouble. The Phantom was already insulted at Yellowtail’s approach. Adding another stallion to the mix would be bad news.

  But she saw no sign of the black, so Sam turned back to watch Yellowtail face the Phantom.

  The silver stallion glanced at her and flicked his ears in recognition. Then he faced the intruder, and the Phantom’s manner changed.

  Neck and tail arched proudly, he vibrated with fury. Maybe he couldn’t believe Yellowtail had invaded this riverbank pasture.

  “This isn’t his usual place,” Sam said. “But he acts like it’s his kingdom. Look at him.”

  Though they were no closer than if they’d been seated in bleachers, watching a football game, the sound of snorting stallions made it seem a little too close.

  “He acts like this is his turf, all right,” Jen murmured in agreement. “I’ve read that mustangs aren’t territorial, but…” Jen was still puzzling this out when the stallions bumped noses, shook their heads, then rose on their hind legs. “Oh, watch out!”

  The stallions reared for only an instant. Next, they whirled and lashed out with their heels. For a few kicks, they fought as equals, but then the chestnut stumbled and the Phantom’s neck curved. Mouth open, he lunged for Yellowtail’s forelegs.

  The chestnut regained his feet and sidestepped. Unsteady but determined, he stood between his mares and the Phantom.

  “I don’t think the Phantom wants Yellowtail around his herd,” Jen said. “What do you think?”

  “It looks that way,” Sam agreed.

  Yellowtail trotted farther off, but his thirsty mares were still headed toward the river.

  With a squeal, Yellowtail blocked them.

  “Isn’t that just like a guy?” Jen pointed as the chestnut clacked his teeth, threatening his mares. “He’s taking his embarrassment out on them.”

  Sam’s laugh froze as all the horses tossed their heads high and pricked their ears. A long, joyous neigh pealed through the air.

  “Is that Moon?” Jen asked.

  It was. The black stallion looked carefree as he leaped from the river to the bank and shook. Still wet with river water, he galloped toward the other horses. Cattle scattered as Sam worried for the young stallion. Didn’t he know that both herds would reject him?

  Moon approached at a weaving lope.

  “He’s acting like it’s a game.” Sam heard her own dread.

  “No,” Jen said. “I think he’s unsure of how they’ll treat him. He’s acting like a baby, so they won’t hurt him.”

  If that was Moon’s strategy, it didn’t work.

  As if they were launched by a starting gun, the two herd stallions charged. Moon stopped.

  “My gosh, listen to them.” Jen gasped.

  Eight galloping hooves sounded like thunder.

  Moon’s hesitant nicker asked a question, but no horse answered. Trying to hold his ground against the stallions’ onslaught would be suicide, and finally Moon figured that out.

  He wheeled away and ran. Quickly, he outdistanced the chestnut. But the Phantom was almost upon him. Father and son ran with heads level, legs reaching, and bellies low to the ground. The Phantom’s white muzzle touched Moon’s long black tail.

  “Moon, get out of there!” Sam couldn’t help calling out, though the young stallion obeyed an instinct stronger than any human voice.

  He’d run away to survive, but Moon was still determined to have a herd. If he couldn’t join one, he’d try to steal one. And so, black legs slanting, he veered right and raced back toward Yellowtail.

  Surprised at Moon’s return, the chestnut watched him flash by. But when Moon angled toward his grazing mares, Yellowtail screamed. He lunged after the black and punished him with a savage bite.

  Defeated for now, Moon ran north. As Sam and Jen watched, he splashed across the river.

  The Phantom turned back to his mares, who seemed more interested in grazing than greeting their protector. He urged them away from the river, up the hill, and along a series of switchbacks to safety.

  Hooves hit places where shadows had kept ice from melting. It sounded as if the horses were tramping through snow cones.

  Yellowtail waited until the Phantom’s herd had vanished. At last, he darted down to La Charla for water. His head dipped three times before he let the mares take his place. Then, while their muzzles were still dripping, he herded them away.

  When Ace and Popcorn neighed after the wild ones, Sam felt strangely weak.

  “And that,” Jen said with a sigh, “is why my mother is absolutely insane to want to move to the city.”

  Sam found herself nodding…until Jen’s words sank in.

  “Your mom wants to move?” She gasped. It was hard to believe that Lila Kenworthy, a former rodeo queen and fourth-generation rancher, would consider leaving the range. “Are you serious?”

  Jen moved her hand as if shooing a mosquito. “Can we please not talk about it?”

  “Yeah,” Sam agreed, but she knew she wouldn’t forget. Jen was her best friend. “But if there’s anything I can do to help—”

  “I’ll not only let you know, I’ll make you do it,” Jen insisted with a weak smile.

  For a few minutes, Jen and Sam let their horses meander toward the cattle. Over and over, A
ce and Popcorn snorted, flared their nostrils, and breathed the scents of the free mustangs.

  “You know,” Sam said, “instead of riding over to Deerpath Ranch to visit Mrs. Allen, I’d like to check on Moon.”

  “That was a bad bite,” Jen said, nodding.

  “We have to cross back over the river, then go up the ridge.” Sam hesitated for a second. Then she told herself to stop being a sissy.

  Most people lived in cougar country their whole lives and never saw one. Besides, it was still daylight. There was little chance the cougar would be out hunting.

  “I am getting sort of cold, too,” Jen said. In turn, she raised her hands and blew on her knuckles.

  “You’ll warm right up in the canyon,” Sam said, “because of the drop in altitude.”

  “Let’s go,” Jen said.

  They reined their horses around, crossed back over the bridge at River Bend, then headed for Aspen Creek.

  “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Jen asked about twenty-five minutes later.

  “I’m sure,” Sam said.

  “The footing is awful and the horses hate it.”

  Jen was right. It hadn’t felt warm today, but snow was melting and the mud was thick. In some places, the horses’ hooves made sucking sounds. In other places, snow looked like frosting on the top of branches, but it dripped down on the girls’ hair.

  “This is not warming me up, Samantha,” Jen said after a splat of slush landed on her shoulder.

  “We’re almost there,” Sam promised. “See up there? I remember that kind of curled-over snow-bank.”

  “Popcorn is going nuts,” Jen muttered. “His skin’s twitching and—”

  “His eyes are rolling,” Sam finished.

  Ace tensed below her. Then he stopped and refused to go on.

  If he heard the same sound she did, he shouldn’t worry. It was probably just more snow dripping. But all at once, Sam knew she was wrong.

  About ten feet ahead, just off the trail, a cougar crouched and lapped at the snow.

  Topaz. The word popped into Sam’s mind because the young cougar was exactly that golden-brown color. The tip of his tail twitched as he watched the riders, but he wasn’t about to leave his find.