© 2001 by Linda I. Shands
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owners. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-3953-2
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
To
Wakara Windbird Jackson
Thank you for sharing your beautiful name
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
About the Author
Back Ads
FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD WAKARA SHERIDAN could not remember having a nightmare since the start of second grade. Back then she had dreamed her new teacher was a witch who locked little children in closets and gobbled them alive after school.
Mom had heard her screams and rocked her back to sleep, whispering, “Everything will be all right.” And of course it was. In fact, that teacher had turned out to be one of Wakara’s favorites.
But this time it was different. The nightmares had started halfway through her sophomore year. Exactly six months, three weeks, and two days after Mom died. They were always terrifying and always the same.
She and Mom were trapped in a raging forest fire. They were holding hands, running through the woods. The river was just on the other side of that gully. If they could cross it, somehow Kara knew they’d be safe. Suddenly Mom pulled away and started running in the opposite direction. Kara tried to call her back, but the flames were all around them and she couldn’t breathe. She took one step forward, then she was falling. She tried to scream, but nothing came out.
Kara awakened like she always did, soaked in sweat, her heart pounding, her mouth dry as ashes. It took several minutes for the fear to fade while she reminded herself that she was in her own room, at the house in Lariat, with Dad and Greg and Ryan just down the hall.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, closed her eyes, and sat with her head down until the shaking stopped. Mom couldn’t comfort her now. The car crash and fire had taken care of that.
A muted light behind the window shade told her it was early morning. She pulled on some sweatpants and headed for the bathroom. She might as well get up; there was a lot to do today.
She hadn’t told anyone about the dreams, not even her best friend, Tia. They’d think she was crazy. She wasn’t even there when Mom was killed, let alone running through any flames.
By the time she had washed and dressed, she’d managed to put the nightmare out of her mind.
Wakara Windsong Sheridan. Kara added a pigtail flourish to the n on her last name and tossed the sheet of paper toward the bed. Tia snatched it in midair, stuffed it into an envelope, then added it to the top of the pile.
“Nice catch.” Kara stretched backward, arching her head until her thick, black braid touched the floor. Dressed in blue jeans and a white, long-sleeved T-shirt, she’d been sitting at her computer desk all morning typing envelope labels and requests for college catalogs.
“That’s the last of them. I don’t know why Dad insists I send for these now. I’ve got two years ’til college. Vet school is another millennium away.”
Tia rolled her eyes and flopped over onto the pillow. “Don’t act so martyry. At least you get a chance at college. You’re a whole year ahead of me, and I’ll be lucky to graduate.”
Kara grinned. “No doubt. Anyone who says ‘martyry’ deserves to be stuck in high school for the rest of her life.”
Tia stuck out her tongue. “Mom says I’m creative.”
Kara turned away quickly, but not before her friend saw the pain in her eyes.
Tia scrambled off the bed. “Sorry. I’m such an idiot!”
Kara lifted the small silver frame from its place of honor on her dresser and studied the picture. “Don’t worry about it,” she said softly. “You have a right to talk about your mom. I just have to get used to being without mine.”
She put the picture down and looked around the room. It was small but neat. She’d painted the walls herself—a soft, ivory color with just a hint of blue. Her older brother, Greg, had helped her revarnish the hardwood floor, and she’d found the perfect throw rug at a garage sale. The project had been fun, but if it was supposed to help her get over her mother’s death, it hadn’t worked.
She retrieved the stack of letters from the foot of the bed and set them on the desk. “I’ll mail these later.” She forced herself to sound cheerful. “Let’s go for a ride.”
Tia’s face brightened. “Yeah, let’s.” Then she sobered again. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow. What am I gonna do all summer without you?”
Kara concentrated on lacing up her riding shoes. The two friends had planned to spend the summer at Eagle Lodge cleaning cabins and playing hostess to the guests. But Tia had gotten an F in History and had to retake the class in summer school.
Your own fault, Kara thought, but she didn’t say it out loud.
She heard the rattle of a pickup on the gravel drive and followed Tia to the window.
Tia gasped. “Oh, wow. Who’s that?”
Kara leaned around her friend’s shoulder and peered down into the yard. “That’s Colin. Dad hired him to work as wrangler at the lodge this summer.”
“He’s cute!”
Kara laughed at the look on Tia’s face. She had thought the same thing when she’d met Colin a few days ago. His hair was the color of sun-dried wheat, and his light brown eyes were flecked with green.
She watched him climb out of the battered ’87 Ford. Dusty brown boots, faded blue Wranglers, and a wilted black cowboy hat. A green plaid flannel shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders.
“Come on.” She tugged on Tia’s arm. “I’ll introduce you to him.”
Colin and Greg were on the porch, Greg lounging on the built-in bench while Colin leaned against the railing. Colin straightened and pulled off his hat when Kara stepped outside, letting the screen door slam behind her.
“Hi, guys, what’s up?” Kara tried to hide her grin. She could guess at the expression on Tia’s face without even looking at her. Tia had this thing about meeting new guys—a frantic combination of eagerness and awe. It never lasted long, though. Tia didn’t date any more than she did.
Greg looked irritated at the interruption. Colin’s smile caused his eyes to crinkle at the corners. The green flecks sparkled.
Kara quickly turned to Tia. “Tia, this is Colin Jones. Colin, this is my friend Tia Sanchez.”
Colin nodded at her friend. Tia’s eyes were a deep choco
late brown, and right now they were the size of Frisbees.
“Hi. I was just asking Greg about that paint.” Colin pointed to where Tia’s gelding, Patches, was tied at a post halfway between the driveway and the barn. “He belong to you?”
Tia nodded, still speechless, and Colin’s gaze shifted back to Kara. “Nice horse. You ladies going riding? That meadow trail’s still slick in places, but it’s better than the one up Sutter Hill. Greg here nearly lost it up there this morning. Dakota managed it, but I think we need a week or two of sun before it’s safe.”
Greg’s face turned red, and Kara urged Tia on down the steps.
“We’ll be careful,” she grinned. Colin ducked his head and settled his dilapidated hat back in its place.
Tia was untying Patches but still looking toward the porch. “He’s gorgeous! And he’s spending the summer at Eagle Lodge? You have all the luck.”
Kara shrugged, “He’s nice enough, but he’s bossy. And,” she added as she unhooked the barn gate, “he talks too much.”
Tia sighed and led Patches into the barn. “I didn’t notice.”
Once in the barn, Kara forgot about Colin. She put a halter on her mare, Lily, and led her to the grooming mat. The pretty palomino nickered with excitement as Kara readied her for the ride.
Patches stood patiently at the end of his lead rope. His black and white coat still gleamed from this morning’s brushing. Tia had ridden him from her place to Kara’s, so he was already saddled. “Where’s Ryan?” Tia asked as she looked around the empty yard.
Kara buckled the cinch strap under Lily’s belly. “Don’t panic. My little brother is at his friend Timmy’s for the afternoon.”
“Well, hurry up. If he comes home early, he’ll want to go with us.”
“Not a chance. I’m all set.” She lifted her left foot into the stirrup, hopped three times on her right, then swung it over and settled into the saddle.
Tia giggled. “When are you gonna grow legs? I’ll get the gate so you don’t have to get off again.”
Kara wrinkled her nose good-naturedly. She was used to being teased about her height, or rather, her lack of it. She hit the charts just under five foot one and hadn’t grown an inch in over a year. “I may be short,” she challenged, “but I can outride you any day.”
Tia’s eyes flashed. “You’re on.”
The girls kept their horses at a walk through a patch of evergreens and across a small stream. The winding trail ended at the edge of a field. Bare and muddy all winter, the meadow was now a wide expanse of lush, green grass and wildflowers.
“Race you,” Tia yelled. She spurred her horse into a gallop.
Seconds later Kara was riding alongside, then past her. She loved the feel of the wind on her face, the horse’s muscles leaping under her as they crossed the meadow with powerful strides.
She knew the tears would come now, but it was okay to cry. Her friends, her counselor, even Dad had said so. And it was safe to cry while riding Lily. Lily wouldn’t look at her with pity or turn away embarrassed like some people did.
Kara couldn’t blame them, though. What do you say to someone whose mom has died? “I’m sorry.” “Give it time.” “Trust God.” None of those things helped.
When they were close to the tree line, she eased her mare into a canter, then into a slow trot. Tia rode up beside her, panting and laughing, patting her horse’s neck. “Wow, that Lily can go. I don’t see how you stay on her.”
If she noticed Kara’s tear-stained face, she didn’t say anything. “Patches is in a lather. We’d better keep them at a walk on the way back.”
Kara nodded. She’d miss Tia. Summer wouldn’t be the same without her friend, but at least she’d have Lily.
THE HORSES HAD COOLED DOWN by the time they reached the barn. Kara noticed a patch of dark clouds to the west and hurriedly unsaddled Lily. “Looks like we might have a storm.”
Tia led Patches toward a vacant stall. “Do you want me to stay? I’ve got an hour to kill before Pops gets home.”
Kara wanted to hug her. “Thanks. I feel so stupid. I used to love storms.”
Tia shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Stuff happens.”
They gave each horse a flake of hay and ran for the house, ducking hail-sized splats of rain.
They had just shut the door when the room darkened. Tia hit the light switch as thunder cracked outside the window, rattling the shade. The lights flickered. Kara froze, then felt Tia’s hands squeeze her shoulders. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.”
Kara’s laugh sounded more like a crow squawk. “If you weren’t here, I’d probably be hiding under the bed.” She shivered. If Mom were here, they’d be curled up by the fire reading mystery novels and counting the seconds between flashes.
Lightning streaked across the window, and another crack of thunder sounded directly overhead. Kara ducked and dove for the couch. Tia sat down next to her. “Give yourself a break. It hasn’t even been a year.”
Kara raised her head and saw the tears in Tia’s eyes. “Oh, Tia, sometimes I miss Mom so much I wish I’d died too.”
“Well I’m really glad you didn’t. Then I’d have to hang out with Krista Stoner, and she’s, like, so up all the time. I’d never get in a good cry.”
Kara blinked, then burst out laughing.
The storm was over in less than half an hour. Tia helped her stamp envelopes, then they dug a suitcase and sports bag out of Kara’s closet and began to pack her things.
Tia looked at her watch. “I gotta go.” She snatched up the stack of envelopes. “I’ll mail these for you in the morning.”
Kara stuffed her green sweatshirt in the duffle bag and zipped it shut. “Thanks. You’ve been a big help already.” She drew a deep breath. “Eagle Lodge, here I come. I wish . . .”
She didn’t finish the sentence. Tia already felt bad enough about not going. Kara didn’t want to make things worse. Instead, she wrapped Tia in a friendly hug. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the barn.”
Tia and Patches had just disappeared around the curve in the gravel road when Colin’s truck skidded around the corner, kicking up rocks and flinging mud in all directions. He passed Kara, then came to a screeching halt a few yards down the drive.
The door hinges squealed as Colin jumped out and jogged back toward her. His eyes widened at her mud-speckled face and T-shirt. “Wakara, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”
She wanted to yell at him. No, I’m not! Now she’d have to take a bath and do a load of laundry before she could get dinner on the table. And she still wasn’t finished packing. She sighed. It was going to be a long night.
Colin was beginning to look worried, and she realized she hadn’t answered him. “I’m fine.” She managed a smile. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”
Colin’s face relaxed. “I’ve been out at the south pasture checking the stock.” He gestured toward the muddy truck. “They’re all a little slow and overweight, but a few days up in the mountains and they’ll toughen right up.”
Kara knew the saddle horses they would use for trail rides at the lodge had been in the barn most of the winter and had feasted on rich pasture grass all spring. She didn’t doubt that they were out of shape.
Before she could think of anything more to say, a horn honked at the end of the drive.
Colin touched his hat. “I’m glad you’re okay. See you in a couple of days.”
As he sprinted off to move his truck, Kara noticed the red-and-white sticker on the back bumper. LET GO, the first line read. Then underneath in bold letters, AND GET A GRIP ON GOD. She started to call out and ask him what it meant, but the truck was already moving down the road.
A dark blue Land Rover took its place in the drive. The passenger door flew open and a blond-haired, blue-eyed, six-year-old tornado launched himself at her.
“I’m home, Kara. What’s for dinner?” Her little brother, Ryan, tugged her toward the house. “Come on. I gotta hurry and pack. We’re leaving tomorr
ow. Whoa, you’re sure dirty; wait ’til Dad sees. You’re in big trouble!”
Kara laughed and untangled his hands from around her arm. “Don’t worry about it. Did you thank Mrs. Crandall for the ride?” Ryan nodded. Kara waved, then turned back toward the house. She’d better get a move on. Dad would be home any minute, and she hadn’t even started the spaghetti.
She helped Ryan wash his hands and got him started buttering the French bread, then she grabbed a quick shower and changed into clean sweats. By the time Dad walked in the door, the aroma of spicy tomato sauce and warm garlic bread wafted through the house.
“Hi, Sugar Bear, how was your day?” He bent and kissed the top of her head.
“Fine.” Kara winced at the dark circles around his eyes. He’d been working too hard. Like that was going to make him forget.
Since Mom died, Dad had been pouring all of his energy into running the ranch. He hardly ever sat and watched TV with them anymore, and she would see his light on late at night. “Doing book work,” he said. But Kara suspected he spent a lot of time just staring into space. More than once she’d gone into his office to check on him, and he hadn’t even known she was there.
Ryan burst into the room, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Dad! I’m ready to go, see? There’s even room for my videos.”
While Dad tried to explain to Ryan why he couldn’t take his videos of old John Wayne movies, Kara finished setting the table. Poor Ryan. He wasn’t much of a reader yet, and there was no TV at the lodge. No electricity either, except when they ran the generator. Ryan polished off his spaghetti and reached for the last slice of bread. Kara snagged the basket. “Eat some salad, Ry. You’ve already had three pieces.” She looked at Dad for support, but he was concentrating on the latest Cattleman magazine. She finally split the bread with Ryan and threw the last of his salad down the garbage disposal.
She had tried to talk Dad into letting her ride in to the wilderness lodge with her brother Greg and the rest of the herd, but he’d insisted she fly in tomorrow with him and Ryan.
“There’s too much to do, Wakara,” he’d said. “I need your help getting the cabins in shape. Besides, if you don’t come, who’ll watch Ryan? We have to work together on this.”
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