Castaway Colt

by Terri Farley

  Measuring herself against the colt, Darby realized his legs were as long as hers. Even if she, Megan, and Cade worked together and managed to get the colt across Navigator’s back, Stormbird would struggle. A chance strike from one of his hooves meant someone would be hurt.

  Finally, through a series of signs and whispers, they worked a soft loop of rope over Stormbird’s neck, but didn’t tighten it.

  They’d take turns walking with the colt, guiding him with the maile lei, and only use the rope in an emergency.

  At least that’s what Darby got out of their pantomime, and now she reveled in her turn to walk with Stormbird.

  Warm winds swirled around her, and once they left the beach, trees blew and bowed and showered them with sweet scents.

  Energized by sips of water, the colt showed every sign that he’d have no trouble walking back to the ranch.

  “What we need is a song or story,” she told the colt. His ears cupped toward her.

  Stormbird had enjoyed Megan’s song. If Darby had known it, she would have sung it again. Since she didn’t, she tried to think of something similar instead.

  “Got it!” she told him. “A poem is almost like a song.”

  Taking a deep breath, Darby recited, “Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night sailed off in a wooden shoe—sailed on a river of crystal light, into a sea of dew….”

  The colt tossed his muzzle skyward, but it wasn’t like he was trying to get away. He almost seemed to be pointing.

  Darby looked up to see a rainbow circle around the moon.

  “Good boy,” she said, and then she went on, “The old moon laughed and sang a song…” Darby had forgotten a few lines, but she figured Stormbird wouldn’t mind, so she just picked up again where she could.

  “The little stars were the herring-fish that lived in the beautiful sea. Now cast your nets wherever you wish—never afeard are we!…”

  Cade looked back at her from his position on Joker’s back.

  Moonlight and shadows didn’t give her a very good view of his face, so she couldn’t tell what he thought of her reciting.

  But his good opinion wasn’t the one she was after.

  Darby was singing for Stormbird, keeping his spirits up until he was back with his mother, and he liked her serenade so well, he bumped shoulders with her as if she were another horse.

  “Just wait until I introduce you to Hoku,” Darby told the colt. “It’s the logical place for us to put you. We can’t just turn you loose with the other foals and their moms, can we?”

  The pale colt stopped and planted his front hooves wide apart.

  They’d reached the trail to the old plantation. Wind tossed the trees alongside the path, and Stormbird’s nostrils opened to draw in the abundance of night scents.

  Megan drew Tango to a halt, and Navigator sidled up against the rose roan mare.

  “Keep chanting or whatever you were doing,” Megan said quietly.

  Pretending to be insulted, Darby whispered, “For your information, I was reciting poetry to Stormbird.”

  Cade gave an amused snort and Megan replied, “Whatever. Just keep doing it so we can get going again.”

  So Darby did, skipping ahead to the next part of the poem that she remembered.

  “’Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed, as if it could not be; and some folks thought ’twas a dream they’d dreamed, of sailing that beautiful sea….”

  A dream? Darby knew this was better than any dream she’d ever have.

  How many people had ever strolled through a tropical paradise on a Tuesday night, with a prancing cremello and two good friends?

  She tried to make a sensible estimate. Fewer than five, she thought. At most.

  Even then, she was pretty sure that no other girl in the entire history of the world had ever been so happy being exactly where she was right now.

  Darby sighed and walked on toward ‘Iolani Ranch.

  Chapter 14

  It was dark when they got back to the ranch, but Kit and Kimo were waiting for them under the light mounted on the tack shed.

  The colt was plodding along with his head down, too tired to notice his strange surroundings.

  “Heard you comin’,” Kit said. “Good job.”

  “Do you think he’s too tired to travel?” Darby asked when Kimo knelt beside the weary colt.

  “I think that would be pushing him,” Kimo said, but by the time Darby finished describing the shape Flight was in, he and Kit looked at each other as if hoping for a solution.

  “Rest him now and we’ll get him over to Sugar Sands first thing in the morning,” Cade suggested.

  “How’s that?” Kit asked.

  “No trailer hitch on the Ram,” Kimo said, referring to his truck.

  “I’ll kayak, if I have to,” Cade said. “Don’t want any more crazies stomping around looking for him, or stallions like Luna coming up to teach him who’s boss.”

  “Kayak’s no good with that storm coming in.”

  “He’s already gone swimmin’ once,” Cade said. “Doesn’t seem any worse off.”

  Darby and Megan tried to make sense of the choppy conversation.

  Were they really considering moving the colt in a little boat?

  Darby had seen a battered yellow kayak somewhere around the place, but she wouldn’t want to share such close quarters with Stormbird.

  It was quiet for a few minutes until Kit said, “Cade, you’re not being sensible.”

  “I know it,” Cade said. Then the cowboys laughed.

  “Let’s weld a hitch on the Ram,” Kimo said. “Been meaning to do that, anyway.”

  “That suits me okay,” Cade said.

  “Do you feel invisible?” Megan asked, jerking her thumb toward the cowboys.

  Darby nodded, but then she volunteered, “We’ll take care of the horses,” and that got their attention.

  Hoku’s neigh woke Darby at five o’clock the next morning. She blinked at the sound of an engine starting. The instant her brain made sense of the sounds, she got out of bed and started putting on clothes as fast as she could.

  It had been late when Darby had stopped watching from her bedroom window. The silver-gold sparks from the cowboys’ welding had looked like fireworks, and she had no idea what time they’d gone to bed.

  She guessed that Kimo had bunked with Cade and Kit in the foreman’s house because they’d need his truck in the morning to get Stormbird delivered back to his mother before it was time to take the girls to school.

  Darby heard tires crunch on gravel. If she didn’t run, Kit would drive off without her. It didn’t matter how early it was. She didn’t want to miss Stormbird’s reunion with his mother.

  She made it.

  They would have sneaked into the drowsy resort unnoticed, except for Flight.

  The cream-colored mare scented her son as soon as the truck pulled up beside her corral.

  Instantly, she greeted him with ear-splitting neighs.

  When Stormbird responded, squealing, Kit touched the windshield.

  “Wonder if he can shatter glass?” Kit asked.

  The colt’s whinnies echoed inside the livestock trailer until the cremellos outside neighed and ran mad laps around their paddock.

  Poor Duckie, Darby thought, smiling at the image of her cousin wrapping a pillow around her ears to block out the noisy dawn.

  Babe Borden was already up. Like the ranch girl she’d been long ago, Babe nimbly loosed Stormbird to his mother, but didn’t allow the other cremellos to escape their pen.

  “No media until all three of you are here,” Babe said, patting Darby on the back.

  Darby was watching Flight keep the other horses from a too-close inspection of the newcomer when Babe’s words sunk in.

  “Media?” Darby asked.

  “Ah, I see you didn’t read the fine print on our website.” Babe said it with a smile, but she wasn’t joking. “Part of the reward is contingent on doing just the smallest bit of public relations for Sugar S
ands. Nothing tawdry,” Babe promised.

  “Oh, good,” Darby said, but she wasn’t sure she knew what tawdry even meant. Something like tacky, maybe.

  “I’ll notify everyone to call off the search and inform the media of our special award ceremony.”

  Darby didn’t ask when the ceremony would take place, because suddenly, as she watched Flight and Stormbird, Babe swallowed hard. The mare and foal curved around each other, necks all but twining together.

  “Good thing no one’s up yet,” Babe said. She wiped the back of one hand across her eyes and glanced toward the main hotel building, hoping no one would see her being sentimental about the horses she clearly loved.

  Duxelles couldn’t have looked any different than Babe later that day at school.

  The big girl’s eyes glittered with jealousy. Instead of making a milk-gulping spectacle of herself during Nutrition Break, she and her friends made their way over to Darby and Ann.

  “I’ve got your back,” Ann said, not entirely joking.

  “Good,” Darby said. She stood tall, trying to look pleasantly surprised at Duckie’s approach.

  When she got close enough, Duxelles extended her hand.

  Darby watched with dread, but when her hand opened, Duxelles only held a piece of folded green paper.

  Darby took it, opened it, and read an official request for her to join the swim team. Then, she met Duckie’s eyes.

  “Thanks, but I can’t. I need more time to work with my horse,” she said honestly. “Plus, I don’t think I’ll be here long enough to do the team any good.”

  “That’s from Coach. He doesn’t send those to everyone.”

  “I’ll explain to him in P.E.,” Darby said.

  When a flicker of relief crossed Duckie’s face, Darby waited for the big girl to go away. She didn’t.

  Darby tried shoving the paper into her jeans pocket, carelessly crumbling it so that Duckie would know she meant what she’d said.

  “So, I guess you really are my cousin. My grandmother told me the whole sorry story last night.”

  When Selena laughed, Duckie made a gesture that invited her friends to compare the two of them and see if they wouldn’t be surprised, too.

  Duxelles was tall, strong, and blond, while Darby was slim, delicate, and dark.

  “I’ve been kind of hard on you,” Duckie admitted then. “We just got up on the wrong foot, and I want to apologize.”

  Up on the wrong…?

  Darby managed not to dwell on the mishmash of expressions.

  “That’s okay,” she said, but when Duckie moved toward her, Darby took an instinctive step back, spilling some of her orange juice out of its carton and onto her white pullover sweater.

  She shouldn’t have worn it anyway. It was too hot. Or was she just overheated with paranoia?

  Ann must have noticed Darby’s distress, because she moved a little closer and helped her struggle out of her sweater.

  Duckie noticed, too, because she prolonged the awkward conversation.

  “I hope you know how amazing it is,” Duckie said. “You just walked right in here, the new kid, and Babe and Coach really like you.”

  “I hardly know either of them,” Darby said. She felt needless envy quaking off the other girl. How could she stop it?

  “That’s the thing. Neither of them are pushovers,” Duckie went on. “But they seem to like you.”

  Darby looked down in embarrassment, and once she’d thought of something to say, she looked up to see that Duckie and her group were already drifting away.

  She let out a sigh that sounded like a steam engine or something.

  “Was that as awful as I thought it was?” Darby asked Ann.

  “Not if she was sincere,” Ann said, squinting and fluffing her fingers through her halo of red hair. “And I suppose that’s possible.”

  “I guess,” Darby said, tying her sweater around her waist. “But why? I mean, assuming the coach thinks I’m good enough to join the team, and, well—”

  “Stop being modest and spit it out,” Ann urged.

  Darby laughed, pretty sure she and Ann were destined to be friends for a long time.

  “Why did he have Duckie deliver the note?”

  “Ask me something hard,” Ann said as they walked toward their next class.

  “No, really. Why?”

  “Right now, she doesn’t have any real competition at Lehua, or in the entire region. Coach Roffmore’s thinking about using you as her rabbit.”

  “Rabbit?” Darby squeaked.

  “You know, like in dog races, there’s a rabbit that all the dogs are after, and the dog that runs fastest wins.”

  Even though she was pretty sure that races used mechanical rabbits, not those born with flesh and fur, Darby asked, “What happens to the rabbit?”

  Ann gave Darby a gentle push between the shoulder blades to get her started down the hall, and said, “Never mind….”

  Darby convinced herself Duckie’s apology had been genuine, and she made a point of letting Duckie overhear her conversation with Coach Roffmore and Coach Day. They urged her to swim for Lehua High School, while Darby made excuses for not doing it.

  When the shower bell rang, ending the last volleyball game and sending the girls inside to change clothes before lunch, Darby really thought things were looking up, because she’d made it through her P.E. class without being bullied.

  But it turned out she was wrong.

  Darby didn’t pay much attention when Duckie slammed her locker door and stormed around, yelling something like, “Anyone can post anything on the Internet!”

  Darby couldn’t wait to get out of the steamy gym for lunch. She was simply glad not to be Duckie’s target this time.

  Darby was rushing down to the showers, still wearing her sneakers, when she tripped, then heard a splat behind her.

  Duckie looked like she was kneeling on the concrete floor.

  “Are you okay?” Darby asked her cousin, but then, as Darby tugged up the back of her shoe, she realized what had happened. Duckie had stepped on Darby’s heel, trying to give her a “flat tire,” and had fallen.

  That’s what you get, she thought, but she didn’t say a thing. In fact, she’d pretty much forgotten about it until she was making her way back to her locker.

  Some uproar was going on over by the coach’s office, but Darby was thinking of the lovely way that Hoku’s neck had curved over the white colt the previous night.

  Darby was smiling when Coach Day stood on her office steps and called, “Darby? Did you push Duxelles down?”

  The locker room fell silent as Duckie cupped her hand over a skinned knee.

  “No. Of course I didn’t.”

  Coach Day shrugged at Duckie. “I’m sure it was just an accident.”

  The hubbub started up again, and Duckie had to yell over it.

  “It wasn’t an accident!”

  Darby was on the verge of explaining about the flat tire when a soccer friend of Megan’s said, with mock sympathy, “I think Duckie’s just a little upset because Darby’s swimming times are better than hers. Coach posted them side-by-side online.”

  First the girls’ voices rose in interest; then there were mocking shouts mixed with swimmers defending their school champion.

  Darby edged toward her locker.

  “Girls, go to lunch,” Coach Day urged them. “We have a soccer game after school today, and the team needs a few million carbs.”

  Duckie’s face flushed red, then scarlet and almost purple.

  Most of the girls moved toward the cafeteria, but they shot final glances over their shoulders on the way out.

  “Now, you two,” Coach Day began.

  “Coach, you know she didn’t—” Megan began.

  “Megan, go eat,” Miss Day said.

  “But, Coach, come on!”

  “Out,” Coach Day ordered her. Then she turned to Duxelles and Darby. “Miss Borden, Miss Carter, it would be really great if you girls could work thi
s out on your own.”

  That’s hopeless, Darby thought, and a glance at Coach Day told her the young teacher wasn’t much more optimistic.

  “If you could, I wouldn’t have to make a report to the discipline dean, and neither of you would lose your sports eligibility.”

  For a minute Darby thought she felt heat blasting off Duckie’s body, but she probably imagined it.

  Chapter 15

  By the time Darby got home, she knew what obsessed meant. She was a walking definition of it. All she wanted was time with her horse.

  When the bell rang, Megan headed for the team bus and yelled, “See you at the game!”, but Darby didn’t answer.

  She already knew she wouldn’t ride to the soccer game in Hapuna with Jonah and Aunty Cathy in Kimo’s truck.

  She felt muddled and downhearted, and only time with Hoku would help. Even though Hoku had ignored Darby to groom the colt with her teeth and tongue last night, Darby knew things would be better today.

  Darby changed into jeans and a gray T-shirt, then ran down to rake out Hoku’s corral. The horse was usually frightened of the rake, but today she’d try to show the filly that it meant her no harm.

  But once she was inside the corral, Darby gave up before she’d begun. Leaning against her rake, Darby stared at her beautiful sorrel filly.

  Yesterday, Hoku had ignored her in favor of Stormbird.

  She wasn’t going to try training her horse today for the same reason she wouldn’t tighten her ponytail in the secret sign Hoku had taught her. What if Hoku still ignored her?

  Nope, I just don’t have the heart for it, Darby thought toward her horse. If you didn’t come to me today, I don’t think I could take it.

  Darby had finished feeding Hoku and Francie the fainting goat, and was calling for the five Aussie dogs when she smelled a delicious aroma coming from the bunkhouse.

  Bart, the youngest Australian shepherd, smelled it, too. Wiggling his nose, he jumped up and planted his paws on Darby’s shoulders as if she had the food hidden somewhere.

  “Get off,” she told him, and he did, but he still stood there with his head tilted to one side, wagging his tail.