Chapter 13
Twilight knew something was wrong when we got back to the barn. I don’t think she could smell the wolf on us, because it didn’t touch any of us, but it had somehow left its mark. Maybe it was the fear that still hung around us like a shroud. Or our movement, still quick and shaky with adrenalin.
I slid carefully from Rusty’s back and landed as gently as possible on my sore leg. I was already feeling better, so I figured there’d been no permanent damage – or any reason to tell Mom. It sure hurt as my pants rubbed against it though, and I knew that by tomorrow I’d have the biggest bruise of my life. So far, anyway.
“Can I see it?” Kestrel asked, when I sat down on a bale of hay.
“Sure.” I rolled up my pant leg. Okay, so I was being optimistic when I said the bruise wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. It bloomed dark and purple across my upper shin, just below my knee.
“Ouch,” said Kestrel.
“Yeah, ouch. And it’s going to get worse. Mom might even notice it.”
“Just keep it covered,” said Kestrel. “Oh, and don’t limp.”
“No prob,” I said, being just a little sarcastic. I stood and stepped out. Then I paused, took another step. And repeated. And repeated. Actually, it wasn’t hurting as much now. Maybe I could walk without a limp, as long as I concentrated. I moved slowly to Twilight’s stall, continuing to practice a normal walk. She glared at me over the door, backing when I got closer. I walked back to Rusty.
“That’s pretty good,” said Kestrel. “Do you want help untacking?”
“No, I can do it.”
Kestrel moved to unsaddle Twitchy and I did the same with Rusty. They deserved tons of oats tonight, after what we’d put them through. “So tomorrow, we should take them a bit more food,” I said, “before you have to head home again,”
Kestrel looked at me, her expression incredulous. “You want to go back there? After what happened? I can’t believe you – it’s like you have a death wish or something.”
“We can’t just let them die.”
“Oh yeah, the poor wolves. Why don’t we just feed them one of us?”
“You don’t have to come.” I pulled Rusty’s saddle from his back and carried it toward the tack room. The stirrup banged against my sore leg, making tears pop out.
“I’m supposed to let you go by yourself?” Now she sounded even more unbelieving.
I scowled and spun around. “Well, if you won’t come and you won’t stay…” I stopped. A wide grin stretched across Kestrel’s face. She’d just been teasing me? A small smile touched my own lips despite my best intentions. “Brat!”
Kestrel just laughed and turned back to Twitchy.
“So glad I can amuse you.” I continued on to the tack room.
We finished putting our gear away, then groomed the horses until they shone in the lantern light. After Rusty, Twitchy, and Cocoa dove into their suppers, Kestrel and I went into Twilight’s stall, and though she laid her ears back at us she still stood for us to brush her. Then we gave her some more hay and fresh grain, even though she still hadn’t touched the old grain in her bucket.
“So seriously, how are we going to help the wolves and stay safe?” Kestrel asked on the way to the house. Loonie came out to meet us.
“I think if one of us climbs and the other stays with the horses, we’ll be okay.”
“So what if the one with the horses has to get them out of there? We can’t leave the climber behind.”
I frowned. “No. That’s not good.”
“Maybe we should try riding the horses nearer the den. We can find the back way that the wolf used today.”
“That’s a good idea.” I paused at the door. “By the way, thanks for saving me today. From falling and, well, everything.”
Kestrel smiled. “Anytime.”
Mom put down her paintbrush when Kestrel and I entered the cabin. “Where have you two been? I was getting worried.”
“Just for a ride, Mom.” I tried not to wince as I pulled my boot off.
“Why didn’t you take Loonie?”
I scratched the old dog behind her ear. “She doesn’t come with us much anymore. Most of the time she just goes as far as the trees and then turns around.”
“Poor old girl,” Mom said, and sighed. Her voice brightened as she continued. “So I was thinking, since I made you girls cookies today, maybe you could return the favor by cooking dinner.”
“That sounds fun,” said Kestrel, though I knew she had no idea how to cook.
“You’ll eat whatever we make?” I asked, just to make sure that mom knew what she was getting into.
“If you can eat it, I can eat it,” she said as she continued to put away her paints.
Kestrel elbowed me. “Look at that,” she whispered and pointed to Mom’s painting. Even in the meager lantern light, the painting made me breathless. I couldn’t believe how much Mom had improved since she’d seen the horses dancing in the meadow. It was as if that night had awakened something wild and beautiful inside her soul.
“I want that painting,” said Kestrel.
Mom laughed nervously. “It’s not finished yet,” she said and turned the painting against the wall.
“It’s amazing, Mom,” I said. “Really. No joke.”
“Well, we’ll see what Edward thinks of it. He may say it’s overly dramatic.”
Kestrel and I looked at each other. Mom was so wrong. The painting was fantastic, even though this one didn’t have mustangs in it. It was simply a landscape of a snowy field and trees and distant mountains, but at the same time, it was so much more.
Looking into that painting you could feel the bite of frost on your cheeks, and the cold air in your lungs. You could imagine running into that pure whiteness and flopping down and making snow angels and rolling in the snow and laughing until you didn’t have the breath to laugh any more. You could imagine lying on your back and gazing into that cerulean sky and watching the evening come on and the stars appearing one by one. You could imagine falling in love there. It was magic. Pure and simple. And my mom had done it.
Winter of the Crystal Dances Page 13