by Terri Farley
When she glanced up to take a good look at them, she decided the two men were physical opposites. She was trying to place the slim one with slicked-down black hair. Though they hadn’t been introduced, she recognized the name badge on his uniform and his presence made her smile as she realized where she’d seen him before.
Mr. Nomi looked slight-bodied, but she’d seen him in action and he was tougher than he looked. He’d sounded friendly as he’d questioned Manny after the tsunami.
Manny had rushed up to the official-looking Mr. Nomi and demanded he take action against Darby. By the time they’d finished talking though, Mr. Nomi had discovered Manny had disobeyed the evacuation order that might have saved his livestock.
“Super-duper,” Mr. Nomi had said, as soon as he had enough information to arrest Cade’s stepfather, and though Manny had struggled to free himself, Mr. Nomi had grinned and clicked a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.
Jonah introduced the other man to Kit as Mr. Klaus, and Darby thought he looked a lot like Santa Claus without a beard. He had wavy white hair, a flushed face, and a potbelly propped up by sturdy legs that ended in tightly laced hiking boots. But he sure didn’t have merry Santa Claus eyes. His stern gaze probably didn’t miss much.
For some reason, he made Darby nervous, but she remembered Jonah saying the ARC had been all over the island, searching for earthquake damage, so obviously Mr. Klaus’s job demanded such watchfulness.
As Kit joined the group, crossing his arms and listening, Darby noticed Cade had slipped away with the horses and she did the same.
She untacked Navigator, picked up a hoof pick, and began cleaning mud from the gelding’s hooves. Using the tip of the pick, she pried the mud away from the heel toward the toe just as Jonah had taught her so that she wouldn’t push any grit into the sensitive part of the toe. She was glad to see that Navigator hadn’t picked up any stones along the way.
As she worked, she eavesdropped, and wished she knew more about reservoirs, aquifers, ditches, and flumes. She only understood about half of what the men were talking about, although she was pretty sure they’d already tested ‘Iolani’s well and found it as pure as Jonah had insisted it would be.
“Mostly, the underground water is fine. The ponds and streams, they’re polluted from all da kine storm wreckage,” Mr. Nomi said.
As Darby put down the last hoof, she began grooming Navigator. Da kine was a pretty useful term, Darby thought, because it meant “that kind of thing.” Mr. Nomi could mean everything from landslides that muddied the water to dead animals that tainted it.
Like Honi the pony drinking from the pond where the dead mongoose lay, Darby thought, but her alarm was interrupted by Navigator bumping against her, reminding her the currycomb felt as good as a massage and she should keep applying it to his sleek hide.
She smooched at the horse and kept brushing, even when Mr. Klaus spoke up.
“The county could have prevented some trouble.”
“How’s that?” Jonah asked.
“They’ve been turning a blind eye to people using unpurified water from ponds and streams instead of paying for municipal sources. Like the, uh, neighborhood above Crimson Vale.”
One of the men cleared his throat. It sounded like Kit, but she didn’t look over to see. It wasn’t Kimo, and that’s what really mattered, because Kimo and his father lived in one of the ramshackle houses that clustered on the lip of Crimson Vale.
Was it a poor neighborhood? It kind of looked that way, and Mr. Klaus was hinting that what these people had been taking for free might harm them.
The same thought must have occurred to Kit, because he asked, “Any illness there?”
“Not yet,” Mr. Nomi said. “Or I guess I should say I’m not sure. It was the day before yesterday that we were up there, and Klaus is right. Not everyone’d be running in to a doctor to admit the water they’ve been borrowing is making them sick.”
Day before yesterday, Darby had seen Tyson, Kimo’s neighbor, in Ecology class, and he hadn’t looked sick. He’d been malicious and mean, but no worse than usual. So there was probably no reason to worry about Kimo.
“Ours is still the biggest private well on the island, yeah?” Jonah asked, and the two men nodded. “We can share with neighbors if you can figure out how to do it.”
“Thanks, Jonah,” Mr. Nomi said, clapping him on the arm. “It’s an iffy time to be trenching, but we’ll keep your offer in mind.”
“This must be the ‘spirit of aloha’ I’ve heard about,” Mr. Klaus said.
“Klaus is from Utah,” Mr. Nomi explained, but her grandfather brushed off the compliment.
“If I take care of my neighbors, comes a time when I’m in trouble, they might take care of me, yeah?”
Darby knew her grandfather wasn’t just looking out for himself, but the men chuckled.
Just then, Cade walked by. He’d haltered Blue Ginger and was leading the mare while her foal followed.
“How’s he doing?” Darby asked.
“I’d like to put ’em somewhere, so I can work,” Cade said. “But where?”
Darby looked from the pigpen, past Hoku’s corral, the old fox cages, the dog kennel, the round pen filled with cremello horses, and the half-fenced pasture. There were no other enclosures near Sun House, and if the foal was sick, he couldn’t be put in with other horses.
“When Aunty Cathy gets home, maybe he can go into the office with her?” Darby suggested doubtfully.
“Gotta keep him moving,” Cade said, but then his face brightened at the sound of a truck engine.
The Jeep, with patchy paint and no top but a roll bar, was a pretty distinctive vehicle. Driven by Cricket Pukai, it came down ‘Iolani Ranch’s dirt road and braked just short of the group of men.
Cade’s disappointment showed. He’d been hoping it was Aunty Cathy, Darby thought, and that she’d learned something about his mother.
“She should be back soon,” Darby said, but Cade kept his expression blank, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. He walked the mare and foal away from her.
“My sympathy’s wasted on him,” Darby whispered to Navigator, “but you like it, huh, boy?” She stroked the silken bay hide of the gelding’s neck, and he blew through his lips, agreeing or relaxing, or both.
She left him tied to a metal ring, wearing nothing but a neck rope, and went toward the gathering in the driveway.
She might not know enough to participate in the water discussion, but curiosity about Cricket’s role in the situation made it impossible for Darby to stay away.
Kit hid his grin an instant after it flashed at his girlfriend, but Darby could tell Cricket had seen it.
Kit had met Cricket at the feed store she managed. Though Kit had the easygoing ways of a Nevada buckaroo and Cricket was serious and brainy, always citing the latest studies and statistics in her crusade to protect animals, the two had just “clicked.”
Kit made it clear that he admired Cricket’s brainpower, but he couldn’t help pestering her with jokes and compliments. It was obvious to everyone around them the unlikely pair had fun together.
Darby liked Cricket and respected the work she did as a rescue specialist with the Animal Rescue Society. According to Kit, Cricket had been insanely busy since the tsunami, and they saw each other most often when he drove to the Animal Rescue barn, where he was getting to know his wild mare, Medusa.
As usual, Cricket’s black hair was piled into a messy bun. She pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose, and her eyebrows arched. She intently followed the discussion before she even reached the men.
Darby waved at Cricket, but Cricket was too engrossed in the men’s conversation to do anything but nod at Darby.
“Perfect timing,” Mr. Nomi said as Cricket reached the group. “The Conservancy thinks the wild horses should be run up toward Sky Mountain as soon as possible.”
Darby hung back across the half circle, hoping no one would notice her, even though she wished she could ask Mr. N
omi if he had Black Lava’s herd confused with the wild bunch on Sky Mountain. The only wild horses he could be considering moving were the ones she’d watched on her high school field just yesterday. And they lived in Crimson Vale.
“What’s the rush?” Cricket asked.
My role model, Darby thought. If those words had come out of her mouth, they would have sounded combative, but not from Cricket.
“To keep them away from the water,” Mr. Nomi said.
Cricket seemed to be considering the proposal when Mr. Klaus put in, “We’ll be herding them with helicopters.”
Darby caught a sharp breath. Her arms sprouted gooseflesh from long-ago cold and she heard it all again. Freezing, snowy winds howled to the thump of helicopter blades and the awful accompaniment of a horse screaming.
Chapter Six
Darby didn’t realize she’d pressed her hands against her heart until Kit frowned at her. She let her arms fall back to her sides, but her pulse raced in her temples and wrists as she waited for someone to speak up for the horses.
“We have the personnel and the machines. Two experienced pilots have been doing disaster fly-overs,” Mr. Klaus explained. He turned toward Cricket. “We can get this over and done with right away, and we hope your organization will back us up.”
“You won’t, will you?” Darby pleaded.
All eyes turned to her, until Cricket cleared her throat.
“I’m just a volunteer. I can’t speak for the whole organization,” she explained, and Darby felt the unwelcome stares leave her until Cricket snapped her fingers as if she’d just remembered something and pointed. “Darby! That’s right, you know something about wild horses and helicopters.”
If only she could hole up like a prairie dog, Darby thought, but Cricket was already introducing her to Mr. Klaus and reminding Mr. Nomi where he’d seen Darby before.
Then, Cricket described how Mr. Nomi, representing the Department of Agriculture, and Mr. Klaus, from the Department of Health, worked together as part of the Agricultural Resource Conservation team.
“So, Darby, what bothers you about getting the wild horses to the mountains?” Mr. Nomi asked.
“Is it moving them or using helicopters that you don’t like?” Mr. Klaus only gave her two choices.
“It’s not that simple. There are wild horse herds up there already—”
“Proving it’s a good wild horse habitat,” Mr. Klaus cut in.
“There’s another stallion up there, in charge….” Darby’s voice trailed off as she remembered the magnificent white stallion that had challenged Black Lava. But even as she said it, she knew he wasn’t the biggest threat. “It’s the helicopters. They’re too dangerous.” Darby forced the words around the shyness that was a roadblock between her brain and her tongue.
“We have experienced pilots,” Mr. Klaus assured her. “They fly over volcanoes, for heaven’s sake, swooping low enough that volcanologists can carry out their work. I’m pretty sure that’s much more dangerous than chasing horses.”
“Not for the horses,” she said.
Cricket and Kit exchanged a worried glance.
“She’s thinking about what happened to her own horse, Hoku,” Cricket said.
Darby nodded so hard her ponytail bounced, but Mr. Klaus still studied her and when he spoke again, his tone was condescending. “Would you rather have them down here, getting sick?”
A kaleidoscope of black manes, golden necks, red legs, and flowing silver tails spun in Darby’s mind. None of them should ever turn dull-eyed and weak.
“Of course not,” she snapped.
“That foal you just brought up is sick,” Mr. Klaus argued. “If the domestic horses are ill, what chance will there be for the wild ones?”
Confused by the sympathy in Mr. Klaus’s tone, Darby looked to Kit and asked, “Blue Moon’s just colicky, right?”
“Seems so,” Kit said.
That wasn’t much help. Hadn’t Kit seen helicopter and horse disasters back home in Nevada? Couldn’t he imagine one? He was an adult, an experienced cowboy. He should be the one taking on these officials.
Mr. Nomi and Mr. Klaus returned to a discussion of running the horses to the mountains. In her frustration, Darby felt it was as if she hadn’t spoken at all. But then Mr. Nomi asked Cricket, “What do you think about using helicopters for herding?”
“It’s risky,” Cricket said. “The sound and the wind of a chopper scare horses. They might stampede. Mares and foals might be separated. Foals might fall behind.”
“You keep saying might,” Mr. Klaus pointed out.
“Close monitoring by riders on horseback can prevent some of that,” Cricket said, “but even excellent riders on the best domestic horses trying to stay with the herd under those conditions—it’s tough.”
“And with no one on the ground watching, mares break legs, foals get lost, and some horses get”—Darby searched for a word to describe her first sight of Hoku—“brave and try to outrun the helicopter, but end up running onto the street, right into the path of a bus. It’s horrible.”
“That would be a nightmare. But that’s all it is, just a bad dream,” Mr. Klaus said with a patronizing smile. “Don’t you think you’re making it sound worse than it is?”
“No, I’m not! My horse was hit by a bus back in Nevada while she was trying to escape a helicopter. She nearly died.”
“This is Hawaii, not Nevada,” Mr. Klaus replied.
Darby always tried to be respectful of adults, but Mr. Klaus wasn’t making it easy.
She’d seen helicopter herding with her own eyes. Why wouldn’t he listen to her?
“Not all helicopters cause stampedes,” Mr. Klaus continued.
“What about using a Judas horse, Darby?” Mr. Nomi asked.
Darby sensed he was trying to smooth things over and offer her a little respect.
“Well, I haven’t actually seen that in action,” she admitted, “but I know what you mean—using a tame horse to lead mustangs into a trap—”
Darby broke off. It would take time to train a tame horse to run up into the mountains. Even if they could do it fast enough, she couldn’t picture Black Lava following along. In his equine mind, he was king.
She realized she was shaking her head dubiously when Mr. Nomi said, “Don’t you think he’d follow a pretty mare?”
Like Hoku, Darby thought.
“Before the tsunami, I would have thought so,” Darby said, “but I saw Black Lava plow through the waves, right past Hoku. He was so determined to get away from danger, I think he would have run my filly down if she hadn’t moved out of his way. And there were the TV helicopters overhead. If he associated them with that day…” Darby took a deep breath, “No. I don’t think it would work.”
Cricket added, “That stallion knows his business.”
But it wasn’t Cricket that Mr. Klaus chuckled at. “You’re quite the horse expert, aren’t you, honey?”
There was no good answer. If she said yes, she sounded stuck-up. If she said no, why should they listen to her? Darby turned to her grandfather for help.
“Mr. Nomi, he asked my granddaughter’s opinion, yeah?” Jonah gave an intense smile. “She’s a polite girl, so she answered.”
Mr. Klaus got her grandfather’s point. The official had trespassed on tender territory and he knew it. He took a step backward before offering a sort of praise. “I guess you’ve been riding all your life.”
If only he’d said, “I guess you’ve loved horses all your life,” or “I guess horses have fascinated you all your life,” Darby would have been proud to answer. But he hadn’t, and Darby blushed so hard, her face hurt. She didn’t want to admit that she’d just recently learned to ride.
“She’s a natural. She has horses in her blood!”
When had Megan come down from the house? Darby had been so wrapped up in the conversation, she had no clue. But Megan had barged into the conversation just in time and she wanted to give her the world’s biggest hug
.
“How about this?” Cricket said suddenly. “Why not use the ‘Iolani Ranch paniolos to herd mustangs the old-fashioned way, on horseback?”
“That’s crazy talk,” Jonah said with a bark of laughter.
“It might work,” Kit said.
Anyone within a mile could have recognized the excitement in Kit’s and Jonah’s expressions. They were both up for the challenge.
“Don’t count on Kimo,” Megan put in. “That’s what I came down to tell you. He called to say he and his dad have ‘a bug.’ I don’t know what kind,” Megan said before anyone could ask, “but he sounded awful.”
“So, that would mean Kit, Cade, me,” Cricket said, “and Jonah?”
“I’ll chance ’em,” Jonah said. “But if you don’t need me right now—” His quick glance took in Darby as well as Kit and Cricket. “I want to go look at that colt.”
As Mr. Klaus and Mr. Nomi shook hands with Jonah and promised to stay in touch, Megan offered, “Darby and I can help.”
“We’ll talk about that,” Cricket said, glancing after Jonah.
“And maybe my mom,” Megan volunteered. “She’s recovered from her concussion, and that’s almost one of us for each wild horse.”
“That’s what we’d need,” Cricket said, but she looked dubious.
The two officials didn’t notice. They were consulting a spiral-bound notebook and a map.
Cricket edged closer to Kit and whispered, “Do you think Darby’s ready?”
In that moment, Kit’s eyes showed all his misgivings.
Darby knew wild horses were unpredictable. They’d spread out, then stick together: they’d gallop over hills, then veer around them. And the terrain might require jumping, quick decisions, and just plain luck to stick in the saddle.
But Kit only said, “That’s hard riding.”
“If she’s not up to it, we won’t take chances.”
Mr. Klaus could have at least looked up from the map, Darby thought.
He didn’t even glance at her as he said, “If we used an inexperienced rider in a government-sponsored wildlife relocation we’d be leaving ourselves open to a lawsuit.”