by Terri Farley
When Sam stroked Ace’s back with the soft body brush, the little gelding loved it. He stretched like a cat, then extended his glossy neck and stuck out his tongue.
“You silly boy,” Sam said, smoothing her hand down Ace’s back.
He tossed his head, then looked back at her. His black forelock parted to show a white star and mischievous eyes.
Ace was ready to go. His mouth opened for the bit before she asked and he didn’t stamp as she buckled the cinch. Tail and neck arched, he pranced at the end of the reins, pretending he didn’t want her to mount, but Sam didn’t believe him. He was only acting like a happy horse.
“Save a little energy for Witch,” Sam warned Ace, but she wasn’t worried. Ace and Witch had always worked together well. She knew today would be no different.
It was a perfect day for riding.
Last night’s storm might never have happened. Winter sun had dried up all but the deepest puddles and the wind carried the fresh scent of sage.
Ace was in high spirits, so Sam had to pay attention, but she kept cutting her eyes to the right. She held her gelding at a jog, scanning the foothills that grew into the Calico Mountains. Somewhere up there, she might see a silver stallion.
Sam felt Ace tremble, just before he turned in the direction she’d been looking and slowed to a stop.
Her fault. Horses went where you aimed them, usually. Sam told herself to pay attention, but when Ace kept pulling at the bit and dancing in place, she knew something else was going on.
Then she spotted the Phantom. As usual, Ace had spotted him first.
The Phantom didn’t move, didn’t neigh, didn’t stir a cloud of dust. He was as still as a toy horse. When she’d seen him like this before, he’d been watching over his herd. But the hillside below him was empty. This time he was alone.
Ace bolted toward the stallion.
Sam slammed back, then forward with the gelding’s momentum. Oh no, that was all wrong. In taking her weight off his back, she was practically telling Ace to run. She sat hard in the middle of her saddle, tightened her legs, and yanked her reins. Another stupid move. Ace felt the pressure of her knees as a sign of encouragement and just pulled harder.
The ground ahead was dark. Here at the base of the foothills, it was wet from storm runoff. She had to slow Ace before she got that far. To do that, she had to stop making stupid beginners’ mistakes.
Ace wasn’t lined out in a full run, yet. He’d obey if she just gave instructions he understood.
Sam took a deep breath. She sat deep in the saddle, but didn’t clamp her knees. She found herself drawing in, concentrating on her shoulders, ribs, hands. Ace faltered a step and she snugged her reins. He shook his head, even though the reins weren’t that tight. He was listening.
Fear drained away as the gelding slowed. Sam sighed and realized she wasn’t afraid. Her pulse was still pounding, and she felt cautious, but that was okay.
She’d handled this little problem. Deep in her mind, she had all the directions Gram and Dad had given her when she was learning to ride. And the rules worked.
All the same, Sam’s hands were shaking by the time Ace stopped. He blew through his lips and looked back the way they’d come. He shook his coarse black mane and stamped.
“Don’t act like I made us do this,” she scolded him. “You saw him first.”
Sam searched the hills again. Of course the stallion was gone. As usual, Sam’s heart was torn in two by having seen him. His beauty and wildness excited her and made her glad he counted her as his friend. But she knew he was safer far away.
“Ready to keep going?” Sam asked Ace.
He lowered his head to munch some pale December grass.
“Excuse me?” Sam said, jiggling the reins as a reminder. “It’s not dinnertime, fella.”
Ace gave a bored sigh and shuffled into a jog as if this entire detour had been all her idea.
When Sam reached the Three Ponies Ranch, Quinn and Witch stood waiting. Quinn’s horse, Chocolate Chip, was fully saddled and ground-tied nearby. Sam would bet Quinn and Chip had just chased the mare down to bring her in from pasture.
Sam had rarely seen Witch unsaddled. In only a halter, Jake’s Quarter horse mare was beautiful. Her coat shone the blue-black of a crow’s wing. Her roached mane stood up in a crest, baring her powerful neck. Holding her coiled halter rope was Quinn.
“She looks great,” Sam said.
“She’s pretty, but she’s lazy. When she sees a rider setting out to get her, she’s afraid she’ll have to work. She takes off, and to tell you the truth, she can run the legs off every horse on the ranch. Except Chip,” Quinn boasted. “He’s the only horse that can catch her, and he did it again today.” Quinn made a smooching sound toward Chip. The gelding looked up, eagerly. “He’s her full brother, you know.”
The two horses had identical confirmation. Only their coats were different. Sam noticed that wasn’t true for the two human brothers.
Quinn was almost the opposite of Jake. Jake’s hair was long and bound with a leather tie. Quinn’s hair stuck up in a short, porcupine-sharp crew cut. Jake had his father’s wide shoulders and muscular arms. Quinn was thin like his mother.
Once Gram had called Quinn a “string bean” and Sam had never forgotten the description, because it fit Quinn perfectly.
Only the boys’ dark Shoshone eyes showed Quinn and Jake were brothers.
Witch greeted Ace with snorts and a stamp, but Quinn was in too much of a rush to be polite. He moved with bony energy inside his rust-colored fleece jacket, lurching forward, before Sam could dismount.
“Hurry,” he said, pushing the halter rope into Sam’s gloved hand. “Mom just called to say they were starting back.”
Sam tried to calculate how long she had to ride home. The school bus took about forty minutes to travel from the bus stop nearest River Bend Ranch, down the highway to the high school in Darton. The mall was only a few miles past school and Mrs. Ely drove a speedy dark-green Honda.
Jake would be home in thirty minutes, at the most.
“I’ll have to go the back way if I don’t want him to see me riding along the road,” Sam said.
“Good call,” Quinn said.
Sam waved good-bye and started toward the ridge that ran behind the Three Ponies, River Bend, and Gold Dust ranches. Witch seemed willing to be ponied alongside Ace with no complaints.
“Wait!” Quinn called, suddenly. “What am I supposed to tell them?”
“I don’t know,” Sam shouted back. Since Witch was behaving, she didn’t want to stop.
She felt a pinch of worry, though. She knew why she and Quinn hadn’t already formulated some fib. They were both honest kids. Mostly.
“I know,” Quinn called. “I’ll get really busy mucking out stalls. No one will come near me then, in case I ask them to help.”
“You’re a pal,” Sam yelled. She gave Quinn a thumbs-up with her rope hand.
That’s when Witch remembered to be crabby.
She rolled her eyes like a rowdy bronc, then spoiled the effect by sidestepping. Her sturdy black forelegs crossed one over the other in a move so graceful, it looked like ballet.
“Just wait ’til Jake sees how gorgeous I’m going to make you,” Sam cooed to the mare.
Witch’s ears swiveled to catch Sam’s voice and she blinked her curiosity.
Jake treated his horse with respect, but he didn’t praise her prettiness or make a fuss over her. The Quarter horse kept moving forward, but Sam thought the mare wore an expression that was a lot like suspicion.
Sam felt a spurt of her old confidence as she rode toward home. She’d handled Ace’s wildness when he saw the Phantom. She’d ponied Witch for three miles, with no problems. Even when a covey of quail broke cover and scurried across the trail in front of them, Sam had controlled the horses.
“I bet,” she whispered to Ace, “that I can get up the nerve to go galloping before vacation is over.” Sam leaned forward and pressed her che
ek to Ace’s warm neck. “After all, you got knocked around by those crazy wild ones and it didn’t shake your nerve a bit.”
A familiar neigh wafted up the hill just as the River Bend barn came into sight. Ace quickened his pace at Queen’s greeting, but Witch turned balky.
“Come on, Witchy girl,” Sam coaxed.
The black gave a harsh snort, reminding Sam that she was a working horse. She wasn’t used to being coddled and didn’t appreciate baby talk. Sam mimicked Jake to make Witch feel more at home.
“Hey, knock it off,” she ordered, giving the lead rope a sharp tug. “We’re almost there.”
After that, the Quarter horse cooperated, but just barely.
Sam shifted her weight back a little as the horses descended the steep trail. Down below she saw smoke curling from the ranch house chimney, and noticed Dr. Scott leaving. His truck was just bumping over the bridge, toward the highway.
They’d come down too far for her to see into the new corral, but Callie must be finished sitting with Queen. If she’d spent this long letting the mare grow used to her, she’d done a good job.
Sam wondered what Dr. Scott thought of Callie. She remembered Rachel’s acid remarks at the wedding. Rachel had condemned Callie’s parents as hippies. Jen had wondered how good parents could allow their daughter to drop out of school and Jed Kenworthy, Jen’s dad, had been just plain rude to Callie. And though Callie seemed to trust Sam’s opinion about horses, Sam hadn’t been very nice to her so far.
Would Callie confide in her, if anything had gone wrong?
Sam and the horses were almost down to level ground when Witch stopped, threw her head high as her neck would reach, and sampled the air. Her nostrils vibrated and her sniffing was noisy.
Sam checked the brush around the foot of the trail, but there was no cougar, bear, not even a skunk to cause the black mare to act so wary.
Witch uttered a loud whinny. She was answered instantly.
Queen’s neigh overlapped Witch’s challenge. The tiger dun sounded so angry, Sam could guess at her thoughts.
Queen, lead mare of the wildest mustang band on the range, wasn’t about to let some barn-bred female defy her.
A quick check showed Sam that Callie was outside the pen. Flashes red as flame zipped around the corral as Witch continued to taunt Queen.
Ace didn’t need any directions to know his job. Even though he and Witch were buddies, he treated her like a half-grown calf who didn’t want to be dragged to the branding fire. He dropped his head and plodded for the barn.
Witch outweighed Ace by so much and she pulled so hard, the little gelding was almost walking sideways. But he didn’t give up.
Sam clucked to Ace in appreciation, then told him what he probably already knew. “Too many mares is never a good thing.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sam hustled the horses into the barn.
Ground-tying Ace, she tied Witch to a ring for grooming. She watched the mare sidle around, slamming her rump against Ace’s pen.
“Just letting Sweetheart know you’re here?” Sam asked the black. “I don’t think she could’ve missed you.”
Gram’s pinto had taken one look at Witch and headed for the outdoor portion of her stall. She was a proud old mare, but she wanted nothing to do with the clash between Witch and Queen.
Sam slipped Ace into his pen, with a promise. “I’ll check your hooves in a little while, boy. Right now I’m wondering if I should cross-tie Witch while I do her beauty treatment.”
Sam decided she would. Witch was unpredictable under normal conditions. With Queen out there calling her names, there was no telling what she’d do. And the clock was ticking. Jake could arrive any minute.
“What’s happening?” Callie asked.
She’d replaced her yellow hairdresser’s smock with a wool jacket. It hung open, and Sam could see Callie’s peasant blouse and brass pendant. The smell of hairspray that had swirled around her had blown away on the high desert wind and so, apparently, had her hurt feelings from yesterday.
“I’m getting ready to pull a trick on Jake, and I could use your help,” Sam said. She ducked into the tack room, found a sturdy lead rope, then looked for a metal mane comb.
“I don’t know.” Callie held onto the doorway and shook her head a little. “Jake Ely? Is he the kind of guy you do that to? He always seems sort of solemn and shy.”
Callie followed Sam as she came out of the tack room with supplies, then she added, “Can he take a joke?”
“No,” Sam confirmed. “He thinks he’s too mature for stuff like that, but I’m going to show him otherwise.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s too bossy. He thinks he always knows best, and he’s wrong. He may look like a man, but he’s a kid. And he makes some bad decisions, just like everybody else.”
Callie looked uneasy, but that expression was erased by amazement as the puzzle pieces of Sam’s plan came together for her.
“Is this his horse?” Callie’s voice broke. “You don’t mean you stole Jake Ely’s horse?” Callie drew a breath, clearly amazed by Sam’s bravery.
“I didn’t steal her.” Sam searched her mind for a more accurate word. “I just picked her up for her hair appointment.”
Callie’s arms crossed. “I know all about hair appointments, and they’re voluntary. This customer doesn’t seem happy about being here. And she looks like a no-frills kind of horse to me.”
Sam had to agree. Witch was a stocky working horse. She was beautiful, but nothing about her looked feminine.
“That’s why this is going to be fun,” Sam assured her. “Besides, it’s not that big a deal. He won’t get too mad or anything. Really.”
Callie exhaled, slid her hand over Witch’s gleaming shoulder, then shrugged. “Okay, I’m in. What do you want me to do?”
“Help me cross-tie Witch. Then look under that hay bale over there, and dig out that bag of pink ribbons.”
Witch settled down and let Sam comb her mane, divide it into half-inch sections, and tie each section with a thin ribbon.
Sam kept waiting for Callie to help, but the other girl seemed preoccupied. Each time Witch bowed her neck a little, Sam could see Callie on the other side, pacing, biting her lip, and sawing her brass pendant back and forth on its chain.
She hadn’t done that for a while, Sam thought.
At last Callie stopped, crossed her arms around herself, and stared toward the barn rafters.
“Dr. Scott doesn’t think I should have adopted Queen.”
“What makes you say that?” Sam asked.
“You heard what he said about getting Queen to live with me.”
“But you have a plan for that,” Sam said. “You’re going to get the landlord to share that pasture with you. She’ll be right in your backyard.”
Callie’s right hand covered her lips as if she were forcing herself to stay silent until Sam had finished.
“That’s not all,” Callie said, as if she hadn’t heard Sam’s support. “After you left, he asked me when was the last time I’d ridden and what kind of experience I had with untrained horses and he started using words I didn’t understand. I’m not dumb—”
“Of course you’re not!” Sam protested. Her sharp tone made Witch stamp and switch her tail, so Sam lowered her voice. “He didn’t mean to make you feel that way. He’s a vet, though, and sometimes he talks like a textbook.”
“I don’t know…” Callie’s voice trailed off and Witch made the only sound in the barn as she tested the strength of the crossties. “Maybe he’s right.” Callie raised both hands to clasp around her pendant. “I’m not that good a rider and I told you, I’m not what my parents call a go-getter. Maybe I’ve used up all my motivation, or whatever, and I’m fizzling out now.”
“How can you say that?” Sam asked. “You have your own place, your own car, and your own horse. You worked for them. You’re going to school, too.”
“I know, but I didn’t think this out.�
� Callie swallowed so hard, Sam heard her. “I’d always wanted a mustang and when I went up to Willow Springs, I planned to adopt a weanling. Babies are supposed to be easiest to gentle.”
Sam nodded, but she didn’t interrupt.
“And then I saw Queen.”
Sam got chills at Callie’s words. She might as well have said, and then there was a miracle.
“I picked her with my heart, not my head. She’s an adult horse used to having her own way. Maybe she doesn’t need a family the way I do.”
At last Callie looked over Witch’s back at Sam, and she wore a helpless smile.
Sam met Callie’s eyes. In the beginning, she’d wanted nothing more than to hear Callie surrender. But now, she couldn’t let her give up. If Queen went back on the range, she’d die. And Callie was alone. She’d give Queen all the time and attention she could. Even more important was the fact that Callie already loved the mare enough to be patient and kind while Queen learned a new life.
But Sam didn’t say any of that sappy stuff. Right now, Callie needed facts to have faith in herself.
“How did it go in there?” Sam asked, nodding toward the new pen.
Callie thought a moment. “She seemed more curious than anything.”
“Good,” Sam said. “It’s obvious she likes you. She wanted to chomp her teeth into me and Dr. Scott, but she just trotted around, showing off for you. At least while I was watching.” Sam thought of all the time she’d been riding over to Three Ponies Ranch and back. “She didn’t ignore you after a while, did she?”
“For a few minutes, but I think she was faking,” Callie said, smiling. “Then she faced me and watched me and finally came up to within about six feet of me. But that took two hours!”
“Still, that’s pretty good. This is all new for Queen. You can’t give up on her.”
“I’d never give up on her.” Callie’s voice turned high-pitched.
“Okay, put yourself in her place again,” Sam urged her. “If you give her back to BLM, they’ll have to find another adopter and it probably won’t be in Nevada. Picture yourself traveling cross-country in a big horse truck. You’ll be crowded in with a bunch of other wild horses. How are you feeling?”