by Terri Farley
Bart was only a year old, black except for brown eyebrows and white boots. He’d been given to Jonah by the Zinks. He was an example of what went wrong with a dog that was bred to work, but kept as a house pet, Jonah said.
Bart had only two expressions: impish or ashamed. Darby had the feeling the young dog was on probation, and that Jonah wouldn’t have kept him if Cade hadn’t dedicated himself to making the pup a good ranch dog.
Peach was man’s best friend. Jonah called him a red merle, but he looked pale orange and white to Darby. Peach considered himself a member of the family. His heart shone through adoring brown eyes, and if he wasn’t asleep in the truck, he trailed whoever was doing the least active work.
“Too bad you can’t take your attack horse,” Jonah joked, “but the dogs will have to do.”
Hoku wasn’t an attack horse, but Darby knew what Jonah meant. She’d seen Hoku’s mustang instincts come down on Black Lava, the wild stallion, and a rabid boar.
“I don’t know the dogs’ commands really well,” Darby said.
“Hmph.” Jonah flashed her a skeptical look. “You learn without trying. You’ve got a brain like—what’s that stuff?—Velcro.”
Darby swallowed, speechless for a few seconds. Before she found the words to thank her grandfather, he looked away from her.
Staring over the pastures again, he added, “You know plenty. You just forget to use it.”
Darby crossed her arms and felt an unexpected spate of back talk about to escape her lips.
She was saved from such a lapse in judgment when a harsh sound surprised them both.
“Sounds like someone stepped on a duck,” Jonah observed.
“It’s my alarm!” Darby said.
She ran to her bedroom to silence it. It really was time to get ready for school.
By the end of her first day of school, the faces of two of Darby’s teachers—Miss Day and Coach Roffmore—and two of her classmates—Ann Potter and Duxelles, a scary girl who happened to be her cousin—would be tattooed on her mind forever.
But Darby didn’t know that when Aunty Cathy dropped her and Megan off in front of the school and threw them a kiss good-bye.
“You look great. Stop fidgeting,” Megan muttered to Darby as they came onto the campus of Lehua High School.
Darby had brushed her black hair until it was ruler-straight, then pushed it back over her shoulders. She wore tiny shell-shaped earrings that matched her pink polo shirt. Along with her jeans, she wore something she never would have worn at home: smooth leather boots, the color of brown sugar.
“Are you looking at everyone’s feet?” Megan asked as they walked.
“No, just watching where I’m going,” Darby answered, but that wasn’t quite true, so she whispered, “So far I haven’t I haven’t seen one other girl wearing boots.”
“That’s because you haven’t met Ann yet,” Megan told her. “But you will soon.”
“Ann,” Darby repeated as Megan searched the students around them. “Is she mystery girl number one that you’re introducing me to?”
“Yeah,” Megan said, slipping past a group of guys who were carrying skateboards. “You two have so much in common. You’re in the same grade, you both love horses, and I can’t wait for you to find out her hometown.”
Her hometown? Megan smiled at Darby’s confusion, then rushed her along. “We need to hurry. The office is always crowded, and it’ll be worse than usual because it’s the first day of the last quarter,” Megan said, slipping through the increasingly crowded halls.
“Why does that matter?” Darby asked.
“It’s a short day. Classes will all be cut to about half an hour and squeezed into the first half of the day before lunch.”
“You didn’t tell me!” Darby said, relieved.
The shortened schedule was an incredible gift, she thought. Even if today was chaotic, they’d be able to get home and find Stormbird before dark.
“That’s so cool,” Darby said, crossing her fingers.
“Yeah, but”—Megan started to agree, then broke off to wave at someone who’d called her name—“even the slackers will be here turning in sick notes, so the office will be crowded. And you can’t get started until we have your schedule.”
Darby squared her shoulders, took longer strides, and looked straight ahead. Her last glance in the mirror had surprised her—no dark circles purpled the skin under her eyes from staying awake, fighting asthma. And her skin looked golden brown and smooth, more like her mother’s than her own.
Of course, she was no beauty like her mother, but she’d changed a lot from the sickly girl who’d arrived at ‘Iolani Ranch last month.
Darby took a deep breath, and realized that Lehua High smelled of flowers and greenery. Maybe palm trees, she thought, looking at the fronds swaying overhead. The only thing that reminded her of her school at home was the far-off scent of the sea.
And the office.
“Come on.” Megan hooked her arm through Darby’s and towed her inside.
It looked like every other school office Darby had ever been in: A counter barricaded students from the secretaries, desks, and computers.
Megan had been right. A long line of students led up to the counter.
When they claimed a place at the end of the line, Megan glanced at the office clock and moaned, “I’m going to be late to Spanish.”
“Go ahead. This won’t be hard,” Darby said, but Megan shook her head no.
They’d stood waiting for about three minutes when Megan pivoted toward a girl with unruly red curls.
“Hey, girl!” Megan gave a good-natured shout so loud that everyone looked her way.
But Megan didn’t notice.
“Hey, Meggie!” the redhead yelled back, and they high-fived each other.
They must be on the soccer team together, Darby thought.
“You lost the crutches!” Megan said.
“Yep.” The other girl shifted her weight left, then knocked on her right knee. “No cast, bandages, nothing.”
Darby’s gaze darted away from the girl’s red curls and freckles, past her knee, and focused on the faded blue-gray Western boots that almost matched her jeans.
“This is Ann, the one I told you about,” Megan began, but just then the line moved up a few steps. When Ann limped to keep up with them, Megan asked, “So do you think you’ll be playing again?”
“Don’t even ask, or I’ll cry,” the girl said, though she didn’t sound a bit teary. “My parents say three accidents and four surgeries in two years is enough. They won’t sign for me to play soccer, or any other sport, until my growth plates are stabilized.”
Megan looked confused, but Darby nodded and the other girls’ eyes shifted to hers. And then they dropped to Darby’s feet.
“Your boots rock,” Ann said.
“Thanks,” Darby answered. “So do yours.”
“Oh, sorry,” Megan said, “I don’t know why I’m thinking of Spanish verb conjugations when you two need to meet each other. Ann Potter, this is my cousin, sort of, Darby Carter. Darby’s from Los Angeles and Jonah’s her grandfather.”
Ann gave a thumbs-up sign.
“Darby, this is Ann Potter, the only eighth grader in the history of Lehua High School to make the varsity soccer team, and you know what? She’s from Nevada, just like your horse!”
“No way!” Ann gasped. “You have a horse from Nevada?”
“A mustang,” Darby said, nodding, and she didn’t try to keep the pride from her voice.
“No way!” Ann repeated. “Where in Nevada?”
“War Drum Flats, in Darton County,” Darby recited. “It’s kind of by—”
Ann grabbed her arm and shook it. She sure didn’t have the grip of a girl who’d just gotten off crutches, but she didn’t get to say whatever she’d been about to, because a pleasant-faced woman wearing a Lehua High “staff” T-shirt was trying to get their attention.
“Ladies?” she said, a bit impatiently.
Megan turned away from their conversation to explain that Darby was a new student, but Darby only heard the office lady say, “Her school records arrived and she’s ready to go,” before Ann spoke up.
“I know exactly where War Drum Flats is. I used to ride there. We had a ranch in Darton County!” Ann’s face turned thoughtful as studied Darby. “Where did you live? It seems like we would have been in school together.”
“I didn’t live there,” Darby explained. “I was at Dream Catcher Wild Horse Camp when BLM brought my horse in.”
“Dream Catcher what?”
“It’s new,” Darby told Ann. Then Darby’s heart somersaulted in pride as she said, “My filly is a golden-red sorrel and her name’s Hoku.”
“Sweet,” the other girl said with a sigh.
“Do you have horses here?” Darby asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Megan put in, over her shoulder.
Darby wondered what it meant that Megan rolled her eyes.
“Ladies!” the office lady said, then laughed, “Oh, it’s you, Ann. Perfect. Darby Carter’s in your first class, so you can show her the way to Miss Day’s room for English?”
Darby took the sheaf of papers the woman handed her. As the three girls left the office together, Darby felt relieved.
Now she knew two people at Lehua High, and her cousin would make three. Today might turn out okay.
“Since you’ve got everything under control, I’m sprinting to class. I might make it on time,” Megan said.
“No problem,” Ann answered.
Darby just smiled and looked down at her boots. Why did she feel shy when everything was working out fine?
“I’m not giving up on you, Crusher,” Megan whispered to Ann, then she darted down the hall.
With a lopsided smile, Ann looked after her, then turned to Darby.
“I’m an office aide,” Ann said. “I give new students campus tours all the time, so here’s what you need to know….”
As they walked to class, Ann explained that Lehua High’s buildings were arranged in an H shape. Grassy areas filled in the spaces on each end of the H and the bar in the middle was an actual bridge called the Link. Under it were the school office and library.
“If you ever feel like you’re getting lost, go up on the Link.” Ann pointed to the arch over the office and library buildings. “You’ll have a view of the whole campus. The Link’s where people meet before school, and at lunch and after school, too.”
“You’re good at this,” Darby said.
Ann shrugged. “It’s not like I always wanted to be an office aide, but after my last accident, they had to do something with me during my P.E. period.”
Darby made a sympathetic sound and shortened her steps.
“You don’t have to slow down for me,” Ann snapped.
“Sorry,” Darby said.
“No, I’m sorry.” Ann shook her head. “I cracked my patella. My—”
“Kneecap,” Darby filled in.
“Yeah, and it’s improving every day, but I’m a little sensitive about this limp.”
Darby searched for something to say, but Ann wasn’t the kind of girl who left a silence empty.
“I’m still a hellion on horseback,” she whispered. “At least that’s what my parents say.”
Darby knew the word hellion. It only meant a mischievous person, but if she hadn’t had such a good vocabulary, she might have thought it was something bad.
Darby laughed and said, “I’m just learning to ride.”
“Really? And you adopted a mustang?” Ann looked surprised.
“She sort of adopted me,” Darby said.
Ann shrugged and said, “Well, Jonah’s the best teacher in the islands.”
“In the country,” Darby corrected, surprised at her own attempt at a joke.
“Just maybe in the world!” Ann teased. Then she held a finger in front of her lips to hush Darby’s laughter, opened the door to a classroom, and said, “After you.”
Chapter 5
“English, history, ecology, Sports P.E., Creative Writing, algebra,” Ann read as she and Darby left their second class together.
Darby waited for Ann to look up so that she could ask her about her horses.
“Your schedule is just like mine, except that I have art instead of Creative—wait, are you an athlete?”
Darby’s response was slow, because she’d just noticed the students around her weren’t streaming toward their next classes.
“Not really,” Darby said.
A few kids gathered in groups. Others sauntered across the green lawns, but most rushed toward metal carts that were quickly surrounded.
“But you have Sports P.E.” Ann gestured at the schedule. “That’s what I had, with Megan and the rest of the soccer team, and swim team, and—”
“Swim team? I used to be in Swim Club competitions at home,” Darby said.
Her mother had filled out the school transfer paperwork before Darby had left home.
Darby wasn’t sure if she was grateful or irritated that her mother had put her in Sports P.E., but she knew she was confused by all the idle students around her.
“What’s going on?” Darby asked, her hand making a wide gesture.
“We have a fifteen-minute nutrition break,” Ann said. “And our principal’s serious about the nutrition part. We can only get fruit, nuts, and bento boxes. Plus juice or milk.”
A boy who looked a lot like Harry Potter flagged Ann down, and though he talked with an animated voice and lots of hand motions, Darby didn’t listen.
She slipped her hand into her jeans pocket. She’d decided to spend her lunch money on a bento box, just to learn what it was, when she spotted the Viking girl.
Darby had seen the word stunning used to describe people, but now she really understood it.
Metal-bright blond hair fell to shoulders that had to be six feet above the ground. Her sleeveless Hawaiian print shift dress was slit up the sides to show muscular, tanned legs.
The astounding part, though, was that the Viking held milk cartons in each hand and chugged milk while other students—guys and girls—stood around her.
They clapped and chanted, “Go, go, go!”
“Is…?” Darby attempted, unable to look away from the spectacle. “What…?” she tried again.
Darby knew she was in trouble when sunlight winked on the Viking’s silvery-black earrings and her head swiveled to take in Darby’s interest.
It’s a cliché, Darby told herself, but that didn’t mean she could erase it from her mind. She’d never seen a girl more likely to knock her down and take her lunch money.
Somewhere a bell rang, and the students flowed back toward their classes again.
“Ecology is this way,” Ann said. “Darby? Let’s go. Now, since we don’t have lunch today, I won’t see you until algebra.”
Darby followed her.
“Are you good at math?” Ann asked.
“I’m okay,” Darby said. Then, holding her breath, she glanced over her shoulder.
The Viking was gone.
Darby knew she must have imagined the blonde’s predatory stare.
Even if she hadn’t, the girl had to be a junior or senior. There was no way she’d have a class with an eighth grader like Darby.
The Viking stood outside the Lehua High gym. Towering over her friends, she held back her blond hair and leaned down to their eye level. Entertaining her followers with chatter about her black pearl earrings, the Viking didn’t notice when Darby tripped.
Darby was quick enough to grab the doorjamb as she followed Megan into the locker room for P.E., her fourth-period class.
Please don’t let her be in this class, Darby begged silently. But she must be.
“We got you a locker kind of close to ours.” Megan punctuated her sentence with introductions to a dozen girls changing into gym clothes. “Coach let me,” Megan added proudly.
Surrounded by Megan’s soccer team, Darby slipped i
nto her newly altered gym clothes.
She was starting to feel…not relaxed, but not paranoid, either—when Megan tugged at the hem of the red shorts Darby was wearing.
“My mom made those a little too short, didn’t she?” Megan said as they emerged from the locker room into the sun.
Darby’s heart was already pounding when she heard her name.
“Hi, Darby.”
It took her a minute to recognize Miss Day. The English teacher had exchanged her navy blue dress for a gym teacher’s shorts, T-shirt, and clipboard.
“Hi, Miss Day,” Darby said.
The teacher strolled on, as Megan elbowed Darby.
“Call her Coach, out here,” Megan instructed. “She’s the girls’ soccer coach. And he,” Megan muttered, “is Coach Roffmore.”
Darby recognized the name from her schedule. She was pretty sure Roffmore was listed as her algebra teacher, too.
That was fine with her, Darby thought, because she had two fewer names to memorize.
She looked around, trying to figure out which girls played which sports.
“Roll call only today,” Miss Day said.
“We get in alphabetical order,” Megan explained, starting to move away from Darby.
“But I don’t know anyone’s last name. Tell me where to stand!”
“Okay,” Megan said. She glanced down the front row of girls jostling into line. “There’s your cousin.”
Darby realized her hands had been clenched with tension until Megan said that. Standing beside her cousin would be better than standing beside a stranger.
At least that’s what she thought until Megan’s lips twisted a little, before she touched Darby’s back and guided her to a place in front.
Darby was relieved when she saw she’d be facing Miss Day, until she realized Megan had steered her into the open space beside the Viking.
Oh, no. There had to be some mistake. Darby’s head tilted back as she took in the girl’s height and blondness. They couldn’t possibly be related.
“Borden”—Megan addressed the big girl as one jock to another—“meet Carter. Your cousin.”