by Terri Farley
“Jen.” Sam barely breathed the name.
“I see it.”
The young cougar was eating a deer half buried in the snow. A patch of grass showed green near the dead deer. Could the crest of snow overhead have avalanched down as it grazed?
Sam almost had the scene figured out when Popcorn bolted. Jen’s reins were tight, wrapped around her fists, but the albino seemed determined to go over backward rather than stay near the cat.
Sam couldn’t take her eyes from the eating cougar, but she motioned with her head for Jen to let Popcorn go farther along the ridge, back toward River Bend.
“Come on,” Jen whispered. “You have to come with me.”
Sam shook her head and still didn’t look away.
Ace was restless and worried. He wanted to follow Popcorn, but he wasn’t panicked. Sam knew he’d stay, so she held up one finger, signaling she’d be there in a minute. She didn’t check Jen’s expression and it was probably just as well. Jen would think she was being foolhardy.
The cat left off eating to watch Popcorn go. His tail lashed in irritation. As he chewed each mouthful, he raised amber eyes to watch Sam.
What had Dad said? Cougars needed a deer a week to survive. If that was true, and the young cat could keep his cache safe from coyotes, he ought to be set for a while.
Hooves splattered in the mud behind Sam.
Popcorn had been in such a frenzy, Sam couldn’t believe Jen would ride back. Behind her, Sam heard a snort.
Ace returned it and stamped a front hoof. Ahead of her, the cougar stopped eating.
There was another snort then, but it sounded lower, hoarser than Popcorn’s, and Sam allowed her head to turn just a fraction of an inch.
Moon stood about three yards from Ace. He tilted his head and trotted toward the cougar.
Chapter Thirteen
Hissing and snarling, the cougar backed away from the horses and, reluctantly, from its food.
Ace wanted to escape the fierce, threatening sounds. Sam tensed her legs, hands, and seat, trying to keep the gelding from backing down the steep trail that descended from the ridge. It was no use. No matter what she did, Ace refused to stay near the cougar. Partly because Sam believed Ace’s instincts were better than hers, she finally let him put some distance between them and the furious cat.
At last, he stopped. Though Ace continued to shift, Sam was able to look back at the two wild animals. Moon hadn’t advanced a step nearer the cougar. He was being careful, but he shook his head, scattering his forelock away from his eyes.
Was it a threat?
Whatever Moon meant, the cougar didn’t like it. He leaped for the icy shelf above the deer. Though the shelf was twice as high as the roof of a car, the cat made it with ease.
Suddenly, Sam could imagine what had happened. The cougar had poised on the snowy ledge, ready to pounce on the grazing deer. Then, just as the cat pushed off for its attack, the shelf had broken and caused a small avalanche of snow that had killed the deer.
Now, white fangs gleaming, the cougar growled at Moon. When a chunk of snow fell, Moon jumped back. The move opened the bite on his haunch and fresh bleeding began.
As soon as the stallion turned back the way he’d come and trotted away, the cougar leaped down. He stood next to his meal, but his eyes followed Moon.
Though the horse had vanished, the cougar lifted his head, and Sam felt chills. Was he smelling the blood on the wind?
For a minute, she had wondered if the two lonely animals could share Aspen Creek canyon in peace.
That had been a childish hope. Predator and prey might be fascinated by one another, but they could never be friends.
Sam looked down the hillside and saw Jen and Popcorn waiting for her. When she reached them, Sam expected Jen to give her an angry lecture. She didn’t. She stayed quiet, even when Sam broke the silence.
“We stayed back far enough that Ace could’ve gotten us away,” Sam said.
Jen shrugged as if she didn’t care, and Sam kicked herself. Jen was already upset over her parents’ problems and the prospect of moving; Sam needed to cheer her up. Instead, she’d given her more to worry about.
“We’d better hurry. The sun’s starting to set,” Sam said.
Jen nodded, and urged Popcorn into a jog. Ace matched the albino’s pace, and the girls slowed the horses only when River Bend Ranch was in sight.
Gram was standing on the front porch watching the ridge when Sam and Jen rode into the yard.
“Looks like trouble,” Sam said under her breath.
Jen flashed her a look that said Sam would have to handle any explanations.
“You didn’t go over to Trudy Allen’s,” Gram said. “I called and asked her if I could borrow an egg for my cake, since the hens are edgy and laying poorly. Then, not ten minutes ago, she called back and asked if you were still coming by.”
“I’m sorry, Gram,” Sam apologized. “We were watching some wild horses and it got late, so we didn’t go.”
“That doesn’t explain why Jennifer is pale as milk.”
Jen’s hand flew up to rub her cheek, as if she could work some color into her face.
Sam opened her mouth to answer Gram’s comment, but nothing came out.
“Never mind,” Gram said. “I’d best get Jen home. Meanwhile, Samantha, you cool down both those horses. Take your time and don’t let them stiffen up.”
“Gram!” Sam’s voice soared with indignation. How could Gram think she’d neglect the horses?
Gram had already ducked back inside for her car keys. When she bustled back out, she kept giving orders.
“And there’s no reason you can’t start dinner,” she said. “Your father’s eating at Brynna’s, so you and I will just have soup and sandwiches.”
As Gram and Jen drove away, Blaze trotted across the ranch yard to stand beside Sam.
“What is this, Blaze?” she asked. The Border collie looked up at her. “I have to take care of both horses and make dinner. Is this punishment or does Gram just want my help?”
The little brown dots of fur over Blaze’s eyes shifted up and down. Once he decided all her talking wasn’t an offer of dog chow, Blaze trotted back to the house, threw himself down on a step and went to sleep.
It took Sam forever to walk both horses and brush them. Still scared, Popcorn longed to be back in the corral with his adopted herd. He was so skittish, Ace almost nipped him.
“You’re getting quite the little attitude, aren’t you, boy?” Sam said to Ace after she’d turned Popcorn out. “But I’ll take the blame. I shouldn’t have made you stay near that cougar. It’s against all your instincts and you did it just for me.”
Sam rubbed the white star on Ace’s forehead. She would have kissed his nose, too, but the gelding started pulling toward the barn.
“Are you telling me I can repay your loyalty with a little grain?” Sam let the gelding tow her along to the barn. She spent extra time rubbing Ace down, too, but Gram still wasn’t back by the time she finished.
Sam returned to the house. Blaze squeezed through the door beside her, followed her to the walk-in pantry, and sat down where he could watch.
“There’s no dog food in here,” she warned, but Blaze’s tail thumped the floor anyway.
Sam considered the canned soup. Gram hadn’t said which kind she wanted.
“Tomato. Chicken noodle. Clam chowder. Cream of mushroom.” Sam read the labels to Blaze and his tail thumped some more.
In spite of the dog’s appreciation, Sam didn’t know which to choose. Then she looked at a shelf stacked with about a dozen cans of tuna.
Got it, Sam thought.
“Tuna salad sandwiches and clam chowder go together, right?” Sam left the pantry with a can in each hand and Blaze dancing beside her. “They’re both seafood.”
The phone began ringing before she’d opened either can.
“Hello?” Sam said, expecting it to be Gram.
It was Brynna. “Sam, your dad said
I didn’t need to call, but I had to. Nothing’s wrong,” Brynna hurried on, “I just wanted to know if you’ve seen either of our juvenile delinquents lately.”
Sam hesitated. Of course, Brynna meant Moon and the cougar. Sam wanted to tell her everything, but how would Dad react to Brynna’s side of the conversation?
Dad had said he’d give the cougar a chance. Two or three days, he’d said, if no River Bend stock was hurt. Which it hadn’t been. The cougar hadn’t come near the house, either. That spot on the ridge was several miles away.
“I saw them both today,” Sam said.
“Where?” Brynna asked.
“The Phantom had his herd just across the river, and Moon tried to join up.”
“I can’t say he’s a fast learner,” Brynna said. Then she spoke an aside to Dad, mumbling “Moon” and, “I’ll tell you later.”
“He interrupted a fight, though. There’s a chestnut herd stallion who used to be part of Moon’s bachelor band. He and the Phantom were discussing who had grazing rights when Moon came loping in. Then they ganged up on him.”
“I don’t know what the Phantom is thinking,” Brynna said. “This sparring is a spring and summer game. Once feed gets scarce, he’s not going to have the energy to do all this fighting.”
“I’ve been wondering about that, too,” Sam admitted. “But when he left today, he looked like he was headed back the way he usually comes in for water.”
“Good,” Brynna said. “At least he’s out of that disputed area in Lost Canyon. It looks like half of Arroyo Azul is tribal land, but I’ll tell you about that later.”
“Are you talking to me or my dad?” Sam asked.
“Definitely you.” Brynna sounded amused. “Wyatt left the kitchen when I said I didn’t know what the Phantom was thinking.”
Sam laughed. Dad cared for every animal on River Bend and for wild animals, too, but he had no patience with anyone who attributed human qualities to them.
“And the cougar?” Brynna’s voice sobered. “Wyatt said he was down by your chicken coop.”
“He’s up on the ridge now, about midway between River Bend and Three Ponies,” Sam said.
“Tell me everything,” Brynna insisted.
Sam did, including her theory about how the deer had died.
“We can’t assume he’s hunting, then,” Brynna said. “I’m going to contact someone in the Department of Wildlife, just in case.”
“What happens then?” Sam asked.
“They can relocate nuisance animals.”
“Is he really a nuisance?”
“Not yet.” Brynna sighed. “But we need a plan in case he becomes one.”
“I’m afraid hanging around the ranches looking for food is so much easier than hunting…”
“Right,” Brynna said. “But I’ll get on the phone tomorrow. Maybe in the meantime, instinct will tell him he’s better off in the mountains.”
Sam felt a little better. The cougar had watched his mother for at least a year, and he had inborn instincts he couldn’t ignore. He might be all right, after all.
“Okay, Sam,” Brynna said. “Your dad’s making starving noises. I’ve got to go take a pizza out of the oven.”
“You can make pizza?” Sam asked.
“Sure, if it’s take-and-bake from the deli in Darton,” Brynna said, laughing.
“That sounds good to me,” Sam said, considering the two unopened cans on the kitchen counter.
“Well, it’s lucky Wyatt’s not marrying me for my domestic skills. I’ve been living on salads and noodles for years. I can’t remember the last time I made a meal that required more than one cooking utensil.”
Sam felt a little envious. Cooking whatever you wanted, whenever you liked, sounded independent and altogether fun.
She glanced at the kitchen window. It was dark. She couldn’t have more than a few minutes before Gram returned.
“Ouch!” Brynna yelped, and Sam heard the slam of an oven door. “So, if your Gram mentions retiring, you’d better stock up on vitamins. Gotta go,” she said quickly.
“’Bye—and let me know what the wildlife people say, okay?”
“You bet,” Brynna answered.
As soon as Sam hung up the phone, she attacked the cans with Gram’s creaky hand-held can opener. Sam preferred the electric one that Gram had stashed in some bottom cupboard, but she didn’t have time to find it.
She glanced at the clock again, and then at the darkness pressing against the kitchen windows, and resisted a pinch of worry.
Sam almost hoped Gram got home and found her slacking, because she had been gone almost two hours for a half-hour trip.
Chapter Fourteen
As wind chased around the ranch house, Sam told herself the weather wasn’t bad enough to delay Gram. More likely, something was going on at the Kenworthys’ place.
Sam tried to distract herself by considering her soup and sandwiches. Now she understood Gram’s frustration when she finished preparing a meal and no one showed up to eat it.
Come and get it or I’ll feed it to the dog, she’d heard Gram say more than once.
“You’d like that fine, wouldn’t you, Blaze?” Sam asked, then moved to fill his food dish.
As she did, she heard Gram’s Buick pull in.
Sam ladled soup into the bowls. She’d just placed them on the table when Gram came through the door and shut it against a cold gust of wind.
“I’m sorry to be late.” Gram slipped off her coat, noticed the neatly set table, and smiled. “I tried to call.”
“I was probably talking to Brynna,” Sam said as Gram sat down. “She wanted to ask me about the cougar.” Sam ate a bite of sandwich, wishing Gram would explain why she’d been gone so long. “They’re having pizza.”
“Well, I think this is a fine dinner. Did you use a touch of dill in the tuna salad?”
“No, nothing special,” Sam said. She spooned up some soup, swallowed it, then lost her patience. “Was something wrong at Jen’s house?”
“Not at all, honey. We were looking at the dress patterns Brynna and Helen Coley decided on for the wedding—for your dress and Brynna’s. They’re beautiful, and tomorrow after school Helen’s going to pick you up, along with Jen and Rachel—”
“That’s always fun,” Sam muttered, but Gram pretended not to hear.
“—and start pinning the dress on you.”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s long.” Gram’s fingers moved across her collarbone, as if sketching the gown’s neckline. “And it’s got—” she broke off, then gave up. “Really, you should see the picture for yourself. I’m no good at fashion talk. But the fabric rustles and it’s a dark Christmas tree green that will be beautiful with your auburn hair.”
Sam smiled, then she thought of her homework. “Do you know how much I dislike algebra?” She groaned.
“I know your grade has improved. And I admire your hard work so much, I’ll do these dishes so that you can get started on your studies.”
“Okay,” Sam said, but before she could zip open her backpack, the telephone rang.
Gram answered it, then held her hand over the mouthpiece. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s the Slocum girl.”
“Rachel?” Sam asked. What could she want?
The only other time Rachel had called had been on the afternoon of Linc Slocum’s big Brahma-Que. Then, she had asked Sam and Jake to pick up a bag of ice.
As she took the phone from Gram, Sam thought the chances were good Rachel hadn’t called just to chat.
Sam was right. Rachel didn’t pretend it was a social call. She didn’t even say hello.
“You’ve got to decide,” she insisted as soon as Sam picked up the phone. “Should I buy Mocha?”
“Rachel, I don’t know,” Sam began.
“You have to decide now. Tonight.”
“No, I don’t,” Sam said, but curiosity ran neck-in-neck with her irritation. “What’s the emergency?”
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��Katie Sterling called from Sterling Stables and said they’d had another offer on Mocha, but she was giving me first right of refusal, whatever that means.”
“It sounds like, since you showed interest in the mare first, they’re giving you a chance to beat whatever this other person has offered to pay for her,” Sam said. “Have you asked your dad?”
“My dad doesn’t care what I decide,” Rachel said. “It’s Ryan.”
“Your twin?”
“Yes. He knows about horses, and he’ll think I’m smart or stupid depending on—” As if she was embarrassed by her own honesty, Rachel broke off. “I’ve told you all this before. Just decide.”
“Rachel, I can’t. You haven’t ridden Mocha or handled her. All we know is that she’s pretty. She might buck. She might bite. She might be barn sour.”
There was a moment of quiet from the other end of the line. Sam looked up to see Gram scrubbing the soup pot with a half smile on her lips.
“Barn sour,” Rachel repeated. “Is that a breath problem?”
“No. Lots worse,” Sam said, shaking her head. “It means you get on her and ride her for a few minutes, and when she decides she’s had enough, she goes home. Whether you want to or not.”
“She thinks for herself, you mean,” Rachel said. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Rachel, she’s not a person. She’s a horse, and she’s trained, or should be, to work with you.” Sam sighed, feeling sorry for any horse that became Rachel’s. “And one really bad idea,” she warned, “is to take a smart, spirited horse and just lock her up. Are you willing to exercise her?”
“You’re just being mean about this,” Rachel said, “when you should be flattered.”
“I was flattered, at first,” Sam admitted. “But I’d have to be pretty silly to keep feeling flattered when you won’t listen to my suggestions.”
“Well, I don’t want to ride her in front of people.”
That must mean Rachel had been listening. Sam softened, trying one last time to help.
“Rachel, why don’t you just tell Katie Sterling you are interested. Then, your dad would trust Jed Kenworthy’s opinion, so maybe—”