Scarecrow on Horseback
Page 1
Scarecrow on Horseback
by C. S. Adler
Published by
Fire and Ice
A Young Adult Imprint of Melange Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
www.fireandiceya.com
Scarecrow on Horseback, Copyright 2013 by C. S. Adler
ISBN: 978-1-61235-795-9
Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States of America.
Cover Design by Becca Barnes
SCARECROW ON HORSEBACK
by C. S. Adler
A humiliating experience keeps Mel from riding a horse, but she is happy to do scut work at the dude ranch where her mother works. Every horse she bonds with though is sold off by the arrogant head wrangler. Finally, she develops a special relationship with a wild horse down the road. To make Cheyenne, the mustang, her own, she must risk disaster by agreeing to lead family rides for the ranch. Can she do it?
Table of Contents
"Scarecrow on Horseback"
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About the Author
Previews
For my horse loving Daughter in law, Karen and granddaughter, Julia.
Chapter One
In the wan light of early dawn, Mel stood shivering outside the dude ranch's main building. She heard the hoof beats first. And there they came, just as Mr. Davis, the ranch manager, had promised. Forty horses pounded past her, their bodies flowing in a muscular braid of brown and black and white, paints and palominos. Their clattering hooves vibrated through her as they galloped onto the road off the path from the corral on the mountain where they'd been penned for the night. Their breath came out like smoke as if they were children of the wind, mythical creatures. They seemed wild and free, unlike Lisa's cosseted Wonder Boy who pranced about his corral tossing his mane, a fashion model waiting his turn on stage.
Just past where Mel was stood, the thundering herd turned into a big corral. Quickly, each horse settled into place at a feed bucket inside the fence rail. So they weren't wild, just hungry for breakfast. Dummy, this is a dude ranch, Mel told herself and followed the last animal through the gate past the open door of a small barn lined with tack. A wrangler came out of the barn carrying a saddle, bridle, and saddle blanket. He had a lumpy face, lots of wavy black hair streaked with gray, and a friendly smile.
“Morning,” he said. “You looking for someone?”
“I'm Mel.” My mother's the new office manager. We just got here late last night.”
“Oh, you're the folks from Cincinnati. Well, welcome to Colorado and Little Creek Ranch. I'm Sally.” His grin was so warm that she melted right into it.
“Sally's a girl's name,” Mel replied, awkward and blunt as usual with strangers.
“It's from Salvatore. My mother was Italian.”
“Oh, well, my nickname's a boy's name. Mel, short for Melanie.”
“Pretty name either way,” he said. A horse with a white muzzle came up behind him. It lifted its upper lip and aimed its teeth at Sally's hip pocket.
“Watch out!” Mel gasped. “That horse's trying to bite you.”
“No, no, not Rover. He don't bite. He's my buddy. He's looking to see if I have a treat for him today.”
Rover had managed to tug a piece of carrot out of Sally's back pocket. The horse crunched and swallowed, then looked expectantly at Sally who said, “Watch this.” He tickled under the horse's boxy head. Rover's lips lifted to show his big teeth in a smile.
Mel laughed. “Rover's a dumb name for a horse. It's a dog's name.”
“Yeah, well, I didn't name him. Can't blame him or me or you for our names, can we?”
“But it would be easy to change his name,” she said, blundering on even as she winced inwardly at the awkward remarks spilling from her.
“Oh, I don't know. It might confuse Rover. “He's no youngster. Been answering to Rover for over twenty years now.” While Sally had been talking, he'd fitted a metal bit in Rover's mouth and slipped the leather cage of the bridle over his head. Next, the wrangler threw a blanket over Rover's back and a saddle over that. Then he reached under the horse's belly to tighten the cinch that held the saddle in place. Neither bit, nor bridle nor saddle stopped Rover from poking at Sally's other pockets for treats.
“So you want to pick out a horse to ride this morning?” Sally asked. ”Plenty to choose from now. Later in June, when it's warm enough for the season to start, guests get the best horses.”
“Oh, I don't ride.” Mel grimaced. “I'm no good on horseback.”
“You don't like horses?” Sally sounded disbelieving.
“I love horses! I'd give anything to have one of my own.”
“But not to ride?”
“No.”
“I don't get it,” he said frowning.
“Well,” she said, “horses are beautiful, but they depend on people to take care of them, and that's what I like doing.” She held her breath, waiting to see if he'd understood.
“That so? Well, to each his own. Right, Rover?” Rover, who was at Sally's shoulder, nodded.
Mel laughed. “Did you train him to do that?”
“Nah, Rover didn't need training to act human. He thinks he is. Get out of my way now, fella. I've got work to do.”
Rover turned and ambled obediently off to an empty feeding post across the corral. Sally closed the gate and went back into the barn for more tack. Mel followed him.
“I could carry some of those,” she said when she saw him picking up saddle blankets.
“Good. I need a helper.” The blankets he laid across her outstretched arms were scratchy and smelled of horse. Mel rather liked the smell.
Sally kept talking as he worked to tack up a small brown horse feeding noisily at the rail near the water tank. He told Mel the little mare had been born at the ranch, the foal of the bay next to her with the long black tail. “She's kind of spoiled,” Sally said, “bucks if anyone she don't like tries to ride her. Likes a light hand on the reins.”
Like Lisa's horse, Mel thought. Spoiled and touchy. Mel had been able to handle her though. Lisa had even gotten jealous because Wonder Boy calmed down fast when Mel spoke to him. Something about Lisa's voice or manner had made him nervous, maybe because he and Lisa were both spoiled and touchy.
“So what are you figuring on doing here on the ranch this summer if you're not going to ride?” Sally asked.
“I don't know.”
“Nobody around here your age. What are you, sixteen, seventeen?”
“Fifteen. I'm tall so I look older.” Also, she knew her long, narrow eyed, unsmiling face made her seem older.
“You look as if you're mad or scared or something,” Lisa had said. That had been at the beginning after the
wedding, when Mel and her mother had first moved in to Max and Lisa's house. Mel had been overwhelmed by Max's beautiful colonial house surrounded by acres of rolling fields, and by Lisa, his beautiful teenage daughter who said, “Now that we're sisters, I'm going to make you over. You don't mind, do you?”
Mel hadn't minded. She'd been thrilled to have Lisa show her how to use lip gloss and eye makeup and pick her clothes when they went shopping at the mall. Of course, she'd never fitted in with Lisa's friends. She'd been silent and stupid when they talked about boys and clothes and the latest pop stars, but Lisa hadn't seemed to care. She'd dragged Mel along to parties and sleepovers. She'd confided in Mel. It had all been wonderful until Lisa broke her arm just before the Hunter Under Saddle competition that Lisa had counted on winning.
After Sally had readied six horses for riding and acquainted Mel with each of them, he said, “You want to learn how to tack up a horse?”
“I know how.” Mel had gotten up early every morning in the year they lived with Max and Lisa to muck out Wonder Boy's stall. She'd fed him and saddled him so that when Lisa came yawning from the breakfast table to ride him, he was ready.
“You sure?” Sally asked.
“I took care of my stepsister's horse. I mean my mother's husband's daughter's horse.” She wrinkled her nose at the muddle she was making of that short-term relationship. Mom had only stayed married to Max for a year. But again, Sally didn't probe.
Instead, he said, “Horses are like people. Most mean well, but some you got to watch out for. This feller here, Stilts,”—he was working on a white horse with very long, skinny legs—“he likes to bite. You don't want to turn your back on him. Once you're in the saddle though, he goes real good. You sure you don't want to find yourself a horse? You could try out one of the gentle ones we use for kids.”
“It's not that I'm afraid,” Mel said. “I'm just a bad rider.”
“Someone told you that?”
“Uh huh.” She bit her lip to hold back the painful memory. “Scarecrow,” Lisa had screamed at her in front of everyone. “You made him mess up. You flopped on him like a scarecrow.”
“Well,” Sally said, again accepting without further comment, “I guess there's other stuff you can do around here. There's the swimming pool once it warms up some and hiking trails.” He sounded dubious about those offerings.
“Couldn't I just hang out here and help with the horses?” Mel asked quickly. “I mean, I wouldn't get in your way. I could do things.”
“Like shovel manure and fill feed buckets?” He was grinning at her.
“Sure.”
He laughed. “Sounds fine to me. I could use a second pair of hands.”
A tall, movie-star-handsome cowboy complete with square chin and suntan strode into the corral.
“That dude that ordered up two gutsy horses is here with his kid, Sally,” he said in a deep voice that rang with authority. “You got Zorro and Stilts ready yet?” He was eyeing Mel as if he expected someone to explain her presence without him needing to ask.
“We're working on it,” Sally said. “You met Mel yet, Jeb? She's the new office manager's daughter. Mel's gonna give us a hand with the horses. She don't want to ride though.”
“Scared of riding?” Jeb asked Mel with a knowing grin.
Mel stuck her chin up. “No. It's just not my thing.”
Jeb grunted, the smirk lingering on his lips. “Well, riding's what a dude ranch is for.”
“Someone has to take care of the horses,” she argued.
“Uh huh. Well, you do whatever Sally says and stay out of trouble, hear?”
She didn't like his bossy tone. She didn't like him. Max had been cocky like Jeb, so sure he knew best. “I hear,” Mel said.
Jeb strode off to the barn, his muscles showing in his tight-fitting jeans and shirt.
“He likes himself too much,” Mel said.
Sally chuckled, “Don't take you long to figure people out, huh? Now step out of the way here, honey. Zorro's skittish, especially early mornings.”
Mel backed into the middle of the corral and watched Sally ready a powerfully built black horse. Sally led the black horse over to where Jeb stood talking to a chunky little man wearing a fringed leather vest. Next to him was a slender girl with a cookie-sweet face and a braid of black hair as thick as her arm. Mel guessed the girl was close to her age. Zorro kept tossing his head and swishing his tail. The girl watched him anxiously. Sally came for Stilts, who snorted and stopped near the mounting block, stamping his big hooves. Sally had a short hold on the lead line, which was a good thing, because as the little man in the fringed vest got onto the block and put his foot in the stirrup, Stilts sidestepped away from him. The man missed his swing into the saddle, cursed, and grabbed awkwardly at Stilt's long, white, mane.
“Can't you hold that animal steady?” the man snapped. Without a word, Sally coaxed Stilts into position again. At his second try, the rider made it onto the horse's back.
“You did say you wanted a feisty one,” Jeb said to the man. “But we can put you on another horse. No problem.” He sounded cajoling now that he was talking to a paying customer, Mel noticed.
“I can handle this stallion,” the man boasted.
“Well, maybe your daughter might be better off if we tried her out on—”
“No need,” the man barked. “She's been riding all her life.”
Zorro flicked his mane. Mel shuddered, sensing rebellion in him. But the girl flipped from the mounting block onto his back with ease. Once she was in the saddle though, Zorro danced restlessly around the corral resisting her attempts to guide him.
“You better go with these two,” Jeb said quietly to Sally. “I got a sick horse in the big barn to deal with. Then I'll finish up here.”
“Sure,” Sally said. He mounted Rover, told Mel he'd see her later, and led off toward a nearby mountain where snow fingers clawed the peak.
The girl looked back over her shoulder at Mel as Zorro pranced through the gate. Her eyes were so wide and scared that Mel took a step toward her to help her. An instant later, Zorro clattered off down the road after the other horses. It would be all right, Mel told herself. Sally would rescue the girl if she needed him.
A loud bell clanged, summoning any staff who hadn't yet eaten to breakfast.
Mel hurried to the main building. The big lobby had a long reception desk on one side and stuffed deer heads peering down at her from high on the walls. What kind of person would kill a beautiful animal and boast about it by displaying its head, Mel wondered. Not a person she'd want to know.
In the dining room behind the lobby, her mother, Dawn, was chatting happily with the ranch manager and a woman at a table near windows that framed a view of snow capped mountains. “So—” Mr. Davis, who had stayed up late to welcome Dawn and Mel last night turned toward her. His pleasant smile pulled his clipped red beard almost up to his eyes. “You get acquainted with the horses yet?”
“Yes,” Mel said.
“Good. Next to the guests, they're the most important critters on this ranch.”
“Sally said I can help him with the horses.”
“Who's Sally?” Dawn wanted to know.
“He's my head wrangler's right hand man,” Mr. Davis said. “Salvatore Loft's been with us for years and knows everything there is to know about horses. Mel's in good hands with him.”
The plump, sweet-faced woman beside him reached over to pat Mel's hand. “We haven't met yet, Mel. I'm Mrs. Davis. When you get tired of horses, you come on up to my house and I'll teach you how to quilt. Quilting's how I pass my time when I'm not helping out in the office.”
“My wife wins prizes at the 4H shows for her crazy quilts,” Mr. Davis said proudly.
“I'd love to learn to quilt,” Dawn said with enthusiasm.
“I'd rather shovel horse poop,” Mel blurted, then blushed.
“Oh, Mel!” Dawn said, but to Mel's relief, the other adults laughed. They began discussing the ranch's a
ccounting practices with Dawn.
Mel thought about the horses she'd seen that morning. Each one seemed to have his own personality. Maybe one among them would choose her, the way Wonder Boy had chosen to befriend her until that awful day when Lisa had made her ride him. One horse, one companion, would keep her from being too lonely this summer. Then when school began, she'd seek out a girl like herself who wasn't pretty or smart or talented enough to draw people to her and make a human friend.
“Mel, aren't you going to eat some of that delicious food?” Dawn asked her. She pointed to the long table laden with breakfast foods.
“I'm not that hungry.” But she got up and took a cranberry muffin. While she was eating it, she listened to her mother putting herself down as usual by describing mini disasters Dawn had experienced with computers and fax machines.
“Mom's a really good bookkeeper,” Mel interrupted to announce.
Mr. and Mrs. Davis turned amiable smiles on her. “Of course, she is, dear,” Mrs. Davis said. “That's why we're so delighted you've joined us way out here in the mountains.”
Mel touched her mom’s arm. “Can I be excused? I want to get back to the corral.”
“Sure honey. See you later.”
Mel heard the rapid hoof beats on her way to the corral. Startled, she turned to look at the road behind her. There came Zorro galloping her way, stirrups flopping on either side of an empty saddle. He ran right by her and stopped short at the gate to the corral breathing hard.
“Did you throw off that girl?” Mel asked when she caught up with Zorro. The horse was lathered in sweat, his black hide flattened in patches. “You better not have hurt her.”
Zorro's dark eyes fixed on her, his ears going back and forth as he listened to her. She kept talking in a low voice as she edged toward him. She stopped a safe distance away and kept talking until she could tell by the quieting in his eyes that he had calmed. Then she asked, “Want me to open the gate and let you in?”