Snowfire

by Terri Farley

  “The tourist rides?” Darby asked, and Aunty Cathy nodded.

  “Even though he doesn’t act like it, he doesn’t want to make either of you unhappy.”

  “What would you do with Medusa if she couldn’t come here?” Darby asked Kit.

  The foreman looked down at the black Stetson he’d been holding all along. He turned it in his hands as if he were studying the flare of its brim, then slowly shook his head.

  “Don’t know, but the boss has a point. My mare might bring Black Lava back, and it’ll be no small thing if he steals a good Quarter Horse mare or two while he’s around.”

  “We could isolate her in the round corral,” Aunty Cathy suggested, “and put Hoku back in hers, but the racket would be pretty intense. Really, I don’t think those two should be within earshot of each other, but it’s a solution.”

  She raised her eyebrows as she looked at Darby.

  “Nope,” Kit said. He swallowed, and Darby got the feeling the cowboy had rarely talked so much in a single day. “Even if that corral would hold her, it’s too far away. I want her next to me, so that if that black stud shows up I can take care of things.”

  Darby remembered the first time she’d seen Black Lava trespass on the ranch. She’d noticed Kit and Jonah studying a hoofprint together and wondered why, since Jonah was the one who’d marked the stallion’s hoof and would recognize it.

  Kit had never let on that anything was wrong with Jonah’s eyes, and she’d bet he never would.

  Darby took a deep breath and held it until it hurt.

  There’s such a thing as loyalty, she scolded herself. And right now loyalty to her family, especially to her grandfather, and those who were faithful to him, like Kit, was more important than loyalty to her horse.

  After all, it was Jonah who’d paid Hoku’s way across the Pacific Ocean to Hawaii. Jonah had handed her a world of horses and all but promised her this ranch.

  “Hoku’s okay where she is, for now,” Darby blurted before she could change her mind. “Go ahead and tell Cricket she can bring Medusa here.”

  Darby felt as though she’d stepped out of her own body and joined Kit and Aunty Cathy in staring at her in shocked surprise.

  “That’s my vote,” she snapped, when they kept gawking at her. “It’s no crime to be mature, yeah?”

  She was embarrassed by her outburst until she saw Aunty Cathy smother a laugh.

  There was nothing funny about this.

  Darby missed having Hoku so close she could hear her hoofbeats through her bedroom window. She missed hand-feeding her hay. She wanted to continue the filly’s training, because they’d already come so close to striking a balance. Hoku had been a one-girl horse, wild to everyone except Darby, but that bond could vanish. What if that was the third stroke of misfortune?

  Darby heard steps coming down from the upstairs apartment. They had to belong to Megan. Too bad her unofficial big sis hadn’t seen her self-sacrifice, because Megan thought Darby was just a little too indulgent when it came to Hoku.

  “Won’t be forever.” Kit got the words out, but he addressed them to his hat.

  “I know,” she said.

  “If you want, I’ll work with you ’n’ Hoku. Every chance I get.”

  The blush under Kit’s tanned skin darkened from pink to rose to bandanna red, but he forced himself to go on. “She’ll be saddle gentle in no time. If you want.”

  “I do,” she said.

  With a nod, Kit bolted off the lanai and into the house. They heard his boots clomping fast.

  “He’s a good guy,” Aunty Cathy said. “You won’t be sorry, Darby.”

  I’m already sorry, she thought.

  Just then Megan, her long cherry Coke–colored hair swinging around her cheeks, popped out onto the lanai.

  “What’s up with Kit?” she asked. “When he passed me he was mumbling something about being bashful as an old maid skinning a skunk. Could that be right?”

  Aunty Cathy had agreed to do kitchen cleanup alone during finals week, so Darby’s conscience only let her pause for a moment when Megan tried to get her to watch TV before she settled down to study.

  “We have dead day tomorrow,” Megan said. “No classes, just a study day.”

  “I know,” Darby said.

  “The day after that there’s P.E., and that final’s going to be a piece of cake. I kind of don’t like having my easy day first,” Megan said. “I’d rather have it last.”

  “My Ecology final’s on the same day as P.E.,” Darby said. “And I’ve got to memorize lots of stuff.”

  Darby mentally reviewed her finals schedule. Ecology and Sports P.E. came first, then Creative Writing and Algebra, and finally English and History.

  “I don’t think I have an easy day all week,” she said.

  “Poor Darby,” Megan said. “Then I’ll let you go study, but first I have to tell you what I saw over at the rodeo grounds.” Megan clicked the remote to mute the TV, flung her long legs over the arm of the couch, and lay back to describe the rodeo fairgrounds she’d checked out with her mom while Darby and Cade herded cattle.

  “The arena’s a big rectangle, with stands for the audience on the long sides, chutes for holding calves and steers until they’re released for, you know, calf roping and stuff, and the other end has a big gate that swings wide, and you wait there until your time starts for barrel racing and…It’s just going to be so awesome!” Megan jumped up, unable to contain her enthusiasm.

  “Which horses are you riding?” Darby asked.

  “Conch, I think. Maybe Lady Wong.” She shrugged. “I’ll know better when I see the list of events.”

  “Kit has one,” Darby told her, and tried not to think of the scene on the lanai and Jonah’s quiet mood during dinner.

  “Great! Maybe I’ll walk down to the bunkhouse and take a look at it.”

  “Cade left to drive Honi home,” Darby pointed out, since he and Kit shared the bunkhouse.

  “Like I care.” Megan rolled her eyes in exasperation, then turned her full attention on Darby. “Wait, so, hey! How did Buckin’ Baxter treat you?”

  “No bucking, at least.”

  “And…” Megan rolled one hand through the air, coaxing Darby to tell her more.

  So she did, and enjoyed every word.

  For most of her life Darby had been an only child. Since her parents’ divorce and her dad’s remarriage, she’d had younger siblings, but that wasn’t the same as having a big sister.

  Megan was fifteen, very social, a skilled athlete, and free with her advice. Darby knew Megan Kato was the closest thing she’d ever have to a sister, and she loved their easy friendship.

  Megan was an only child, too. But she’d had it far worse than Darby. She hadn’t lost her paniolo dad to divorce: He’d died in a riding accident.

  Darby sighed, and her gaze wandered to the lanai and the mountains beyond. Dark violet with luminous purple edges, they rolled out to Sky Mountain.

  Black Lava was out there somewhere with his four mares and a single black colt. Would he find another way home or was he hiding nearby, maybe at the fold at the end of the road?

  Had he left Sky Mountain because he was a jungle horse? Or had Snowfire chased him the many miles to ‘Iolani Ranch?

  Darby hadn’t noticed a scratch on Snowfire, but she remembered Black Lava’s wounds. Wild horses had no natural predators, but that didn’t mean the black stallion was safe. The slashes on his neck were probably from Snowfire’s teeth, and they could get infected.

  Darby was wondering why she couldn’t stop thinking about that when a pall of heat fell over her. She saw Black Lava on his side on the ground. In feverish protest against his weakness, his legs thrashed.

  No weird stuff, Darby told herself. She shook the image from her head. Reading the feelings of a horse standing right in front of her was one thing. Picturing Black Lava like that was just plain morbid.

  Had she subconsciously noticed something? And the something had evoked a war
ning. That had to be it.

  I’ll go out there to check on them, she decided, even if I have to go alone.

  “I’d better hit the books,” she said suddenly.

  Megan still stood before the TV, watching the soundless images of a car chase.

  “You’re guilting me into it.” Megan yawned. “I’d better look over the kinesiology handout Ms. Day gave us.”

  Ms. Day taught P.E. and English, and she often based her tests on handouts she’d distributed weeks earlier.

  “I almost forgot about that,” Darby said as Megan turned off the TV.

  “Have fun,” Megan sang, and then left for her upstairs apartment.

  Darby hurried through her shower, pulled on cotton boxers and a fresh T-shirt, then climbed into bed with her textbooks.

  She got out Miss Day’s handout along with the stuff for Ecology, then let herself be sidetracked into thinking about her capital-cities test for History. That might be her hardest final.

  Luckily, she’d learned some tricks with note cards, color coding, and listing from last year’s study-skills teacher. That made memorization easier, and Darby worked for almost two hours without getting sleepy.

  It was a little late to call Ann, but time was running out. If they took two days to decide on their presentation topic, they’d only have one day for practice. Darby wanted to end the year with a report card that would stun her mother into believing her daughter wasn’t distracted by horses and ranch life, so there was no reason for them to ever leave Moku Lio Hihiu.

  She switched off her bedside light and settled under the covers. A minute later she kicked them off.

  The night was hot and still. No breeze brought scents of green grass, red dirt, and flowers. No yaps from the dogs or hoofbeats from the horses. No comforting nicker from Hoku, and her longing neighs had stopped, too.

  Was she all right out there in the pasture? Was she still there, or had Black Lava come back and stolen her away?

  From down the hall came the sound of flipping pages. Jonah was right where he should be, not staring over the darkened ranch as he sometimes did.

  The sound should have been comforting, but Jonah must be going through the papers to register them for the keiki rodeo.

  How would she do in front of every rider on the island?

  Knock it off, she told herself, then snapped the light back on and reached for her diary. She turned to its unlined pages and began drawing horses.

  Of course I’m drawing horses. She smiled as her pencil flew over the paper. They’re the only things I can draw!

  She sketched Black Lava’s mares. As she worked on the bay mare’s legs—hind legs were always the hardest!—she remembered that Tutu had said some people thought they were descendants of the French Camargue marsh horses.

  Others thought their bloodlines went back to the Spanish barbs, so she gave one of the mares a more Arab-looking head.

  Darby had looked up pictures of the French horses on the Internet in the ranch office. The powerful white horses were supposed to be related to equines from prehistoric times.

  Darby shivered. Snowfire looked exactly like a French Camargue.

  Almost holding her breath, she drew the white stallion. She gave him broad hooves for walking on the beach and scaling cliffs. She added silky hair to protect him from whipping snow flurries on Sky Mountain, and large, intelligent eyes that could see from the hills to the sea.

  At last she tucked her diary away, turned over on one side, and dreamed of horses.

  Chapter Five

  Megan, Darby, and Cade were waiting outside Sun House when Cricket arrived in her beat-up Jeep, pulling an open horse trailer.

  The girls had been finishing breakfast when they’d heard Medusa’s neighs.

  Fighting the trailer and overwhelmed by the bewildering experience of moving without running, Medusa screamed at the humans who’d caused her confinement.

  Kit appeared farther down the road leading into the ranch yard and motioned with both hands, telling Cricket to keep driving until she reached Hoku’s corral.

  It almost worked.

  Darby and Megan jogged behind the trailer until Cricket came to a stop just before she reached the tack shed.

  Darby had to admit the horse was magnificent in her fiery steeldust beauty, but her heart ached for the mare. A leader of her own kind, the horse used fury to hide her fear. Darby could see why Cricket was eager to end the mare’s imprisonment.

  “The ride really freaked her out,” Megan sympathized. As Cricket turned off the Jeep, got out, and closed the door softly behind her, Megan stepped forward, waiting for instructions.

  “We’ll see,” Cricket said softly, and then focused her attention on Medusa.

  Cricket was a native Hawaiian, and today, as usual, her long black hair was caught up in a messy bun skewered in place by an ivory chopstick. At least, it had been.

  Though she was almost always cool under pressure, Cricket’s bun had started to slip, and her thick glasses were askew.

  “What a ride. My guess was wrong,” she said, studying the mare. “I kept weighing the differences between an open trailer and a closed one, and finally Luke—our vet—flipped a coin and we went with the open trailer.”

  “She woulda hated it either way.” Kit sounded hypnotized, and he still hadn’t greeted his girlfriend. He watched Medusa.

  The mare’s coat was nearly black with sweat. Clots of foam coated her mouth and muzzle.

  “Let’s get her outta there,” Kit said.

  The mare wore a lightweight halter, and ropes came away from it on each side.

  “If we hadn’t cross-tied her, she would’ve climbed out,” Cricket said.

  Kit gestured for Cade to take the far rope while he untied the near one.

  Without Kit’s instructions, Cricket moved to the critical position behind the mare to open the trailer door. Darby and Megan stood by, but they backed up to give the others room.

  Since the mare’s kicks were already resounding against the metal, Cricket didn’t get too close until Cade and Kit had dodged Medusa’s teeth and grabbed the ropes on either side of her halter.

  “Poor girl,” Darby murmured.

  “I don’t even want to see her legs.” Megan winced, then noticed Jonah walking in their direction from the tack shed. “Here comes Jonah with the first-aid kit, but I don’t know how they’re going to get close enough to use it.”

  Medusa’s neck curved toward Cade. She stood for a moment, then lunged with bared teeth for his hand. As he jumped back, Cade inadvertently gave the mare a little more rope. Instantly she took up the slack by bending like a dog after its tail.

  “She’s trying to turn,” Cade said. He shortened the length of rope once more, but Medusa was determined to leave the trailer headfirst instead of backing out.

  “She just doesn’t get it,” Darby said.

  “Can she make it if I slack off on this side? It looks like she can.” Kit kept his voice level.

  Cade bobbed into range of the mare, checking to see whether there was space enough for her to escape the trailer frontward.

  The mare’s open mouth went for his head.

  Cade’s hala hat spun off as he ducked and said, “Think so.”

  Cricket nodded at Kit, who gave Medusa the rope she needed to turn around. Holding the trailer door open, Cricket dodged behind it, shielding herself from Medusa.

  “I’m okay,” Cricket reassured Kit.

  With the way clear before her, the mare charged out toward Sun House.

  Her legs were bleeding. Darby heard Cricket’s frustrated grunt. Even as Medusa hit the end of the twin ropes restraining her, Cricket was walking around the mare, trying to study her legs.

  Megan gasped at Cricket’s bravery, then said, “She totally trusts those guys to hold on.”

  Shining with sweat, the gray mare gave short dolphin leaps forward, dragging Cade and Kit.

  “She’s reopened some stitches.” Cricket sounded both sad and disgusted.


  During the tsunami, Darby had watched on horseback with Kit and Cade as Black Lava and Medusa swam their herd out to a lava spit for safety. But once the storm was over, the horses had been coaxed back to land. Only Medusa had refused to follow.

  Kit had used his bronc-riding skills to climb onto the mare’s back and stuff cotton into her ears to dull the roar of helicopters overhead. Only when the mare had swum ashore and stood shivering beneath a sodden black mane had they noticed her legs, bleeding from cuts on the lava rock.

  “She’s all yours,” Cricket joked feebly.

  “Ideas?” Kit grunted as the mare made another hop, pulling his boot heels through the dirt.

  “Let her up.”

  Darby sucked in a breath, pretty sure Cricket wanted to calm the mare with fewer restrictions. But they couldn’t let her get away. Running with trailing ropes and bleeding legs would be disastrous.

  As Medusa reared, pawing the air with outrage, Kit and Cade let out the ropes. Confused by her head’s freedom, the mare touched her front hooves down, tossed her mane and forelock from her face, then reared again.

  Foam flew from her lips, and for a single instant her eyes rolled until they showed a bit of red rim.

  Darby stepped back so quickly her boot crunched down on Jonah’s.

  “Remember that,” he said quietly. He pointed, but the mare’s eyes had already returned to normal.

  “Can we tranquilize her?” Cade asked.

  Darby looked at Kit, then Cricket and Jonah. None of them answered him, but Darby guessed they didn’t want to traumatize the mare any further.

  “I have some of Tutu’s concoction left,” Cade said. “The stuff she made up for Honi.”

  “Sounds good,” Kit said, but his voice was so quiet Darby didn’t know whether Cade heard.

  “Is it still in your poncho?” Megan asked, and when Cade nodded, she darted for the bunkhouse.

  Medusa couldn’t maintain her rearing balance much longer. The mare’s back legs trembled. One hoof stepped forward. Finally she stood on all fours again, front legs spread wide. Her head hung low, and her forelock veiled her face, down to her nostrils.