“To the south of the ranch,” Hadley told her. “Leon reckoned they’d head across the plain rather than cut back toward the mountains. Seems he was right.”
Kirstie gave a small nod, then turned away. She had a flashback to the night before, seeing in her mind the moonlit scene, when the horses had split off in all directions: some toward the flat lands to the south, it was true, but some toward Eagle’s Peak in the north. Skeeter, for a start. Probably Moonpie and Midnight Lady had followed close on his heels. But she said nothing to Hadley about that.
“Kirstie!” Her mom called her from the house porch.
She broke into a run, along the dark corridor of wooden stalls, past the round feed bins, through the heavy pine door into the corral.
“Lisa’s on the phone!” Sandy waited, arms folded. “You two are grounded, remember! Don’t go making plans!”
Nodding, Kirstie scooted by to take the call in the kitchen. She arrived breathless and curious.
“Hey.” Lisa didn’t sound her usual bubbly self.
“Hey!” She perched on the edge of the table, staring out at the mountains.
“I’m up at Lone Elm. I just heard from Grandpa; they found three of Donna’s horses so far.”
“I know.” News traveled fast. “Donna’s thinking of selling Circle R.”
“What! I never knew that.”
Not that fast, then. There was a long, awkward silence for her friend to start feeling guilty in. “Did you call me just to tell me about the three horses?”
“No, really …” Lisa seemed to be making a decision to say what was on her mind. “Kirstie, I just drove up to the trailer park with Grandpa. He’s pretty mad at me.”
“The whole world is mad at us,” Kirstie confirmed. “So?”
“So, he wasn’t saying much. I spent the whole time looking out of the window, making like I didn’t care.”
“You and me both.” Lisa was having the same kind of hard time as she was, Kirstie realized. “So, is there a point to this story?”
“Well, I couldn’t swear to it,” Lisa sighed. “Maybe I’m a bit crazy right now. But we were driving up to Lone Elm and Grandpa stops to talk to the Forest Guard. I’m seeing loose horses everywhere, like, not really seeing them, just imagining them.”
“It’s because we didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“Well, whatever. They mostly turn out to be shadows or mule deer. Finally, I’m looking up at a rock, seeing what I think are three horses on the skyline. Grandpa is saying good-bye to the Forest Guard. I’m saying, ‘Hold on a second!’ but he’s deliberately ignoring me. So I’m trying to work out if this time it’s more mule deer, or if it really is three horses. One’s definitely a black-and-white paint …”
“Skeeter!” Kirstie gasped.
“One’s too far away to know if it’s a flea-bitten gray, but I’m nearly sure …”
“Moonpie!” Kirstie lowered her voice to a murmur.
“And the third one, another gray, is looking down from the rock, watching me watching her. She’s wearing a head collar, and her ears are up, and she’s staring, ready to run …”
Kirstie closed her eyes and almost stopped breathing. “Midnight Lady!”
“I guess so. But I can’t do anything because Grandpa’s refusing to listen to me. He’s driving on and the sound of the engine spooks them. We take a bend to the left, through some trees, and when I look up again the horses have gone. I’m staring up at an empty rock. Zilch. Nothing!”
“Can you remember which rock?” Kirstie begged. She glanced over her shoulder to see her mom standing in the doorway.
“Angel Rock,” Lisa whispered back.
Then something must have happened at her end of the line. Suddenly there was a click, and the phone went dead.
That afternoon, Sandy booked Kirstie’s horse, Lucky, into one of the trail rides and planned a list of chores for Kirstie which would keep her busy until nightfall. Beginning with logs. She had to help Charlie to stack the wood in the back of a trailer and deliver it to each of the guest cabins. Then there were horse blankets to hose down, scrub and clean, before slinging them over the corral fence to dry. After that, there was tack to clean, bales of hay to shift, yards to rake, and the tack room to sweep.
“I’ll stack the hay,” Charlie suggested. It was two thirty and he saw that Kirstie looked exhausted. “You catch up on some sleep.”
Sandy was out leading a ride up Coyote Trail. She wouldn’t be back until five o’clock. “Are you sure?” Kirstie checked her watch.
“Sure I’m sure.” He took a heavy bale from her and set off across the barn. Then he hesitated and glanced back. “Just make sure you stay out of trouble, OK!”
Charlie must have sensed that Kirstie’s brain was racing and that sleep was the last thing on her mind. So she made a quick exit before he could withdraw his offer.
Angel Rock! It was beyond Lone Elm Trailer Park, on the far side of Miners’ Ridge. How could she get over there without a horse? Or should she risk saddling Charlie’s horse, Rodeo Rocky? No way. The tack room was next to the barn where Charlie was working. Could she grab a rope instead, lead Rocky out of the meadow, and ride him bareback? That way she was much less likely to get caught. Stopping by the house to think, Kirstie realized this was the best way.
Soon she had slung a rope across her shoulders and was slipping over the bridge toward Red Fox Meadow. Rodeo Rocky was the only horse in there, since every other horse on the ranch was in use or out on loan. He looked up and whinnied as she approached.
“Ssh!” Kirstie climbed the fence and jumped into the field. The bay horse’s coat shone with its peculiar metallic glint in the full sunlight. His dark mane and tail hung silky smooth. Quickly she reached out to clip the lead rope onto the head collar, then led him quietly out of the meadow.
The next move was more difficult. Rodeo Rocky was a brave and intelligent horse, one they’d rescued from San Luis Rodeo where they’d found him being badly treated. Once wild, he’d now learned to trust Kirstie and was a wonderful ranch horse, Charlie’s pride and joy. But he was young and strong, and had no experience of being ridden bareback. It was possible that as soon as Kirstie tried it, the strangeness would make him kick and buck. She could soon be thrown to the ground and trampled by the panicking horse.
Leading him out by the creek, away from the house and barn, Kirstie waited until they reached the cover of some willow bushes before she stopped and made her first attempt to talk gently to the horse, persuading him by her voice and gesture, that whatever she was about to do wasn’t intended to frighten or hurt.
“I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t have to!” she whispered, looping the lead rope around his neck.
Rodeo Rocky dipped his head and snorted. He shook himself from head to foot.
“This is gonna seem kinda strange,” she went on. This time, she ran her hands over his neck and shoulders as she talked. She felt him watching her carefully. “I know you like a saddle and bridle, so that you’re familiar with what’s going on. But just for today, we’re gonna have to do without.”
I’m listening, he said by the turn of his head, the flick of his ears. Go ahead.
Kirstie found a nearby rock to raise herself from the ground and bring herself level with the horse’s head. Then she rested both arms across his left shoulder. Leaning against him, she felt him brace himself to take her weight. “Now, I’m gonna grab a fistful of mane and haul myself up,” she warned. “Once I get my leg over your back, you have to stand nice and easy. Otherwise I get thrown off, see!”
She was breathing the words into his ear, slowly easing herself into position. Rocky stood fast, obviously wondering what she was up to, but prepared to trust her.
Smooth and slow, Kirstie slid her leg over his broad back. She pushed herself upright. “Easy!” she murmured, as Rocky felt her full weight. She kept hold of his mane, kicked gently, and clicked her tongue.
He took a step forward, then another, swayi
ng as he climbed the slope away from the creek. When he found that Kirstie slipped from side to side without her saddle, he tried to even out his stride. And without the usual bit and reins to guide him, he saw that he must pay more attention to her legs and voice.
Using her heels, she asked him to take Meltwater Trail, slowly at first, finding her balance, gaining confidence. Rocky listened hard. He got used to the novel sensation of being ridden bareback.
“You’re doing fine!” she murmured, as they passed by a stream that fed the creek. “What do you say we try a trot?”
Rocky agreed. He broke his steady walking gait, picked up his feet, and set off uphill at a smooth trot. Kirstie rose and fell, one hand on his shoulder, one hand holding the looped lead rope.
“And how about a lope?” she breathed.
Rocky felt her sit down firmly and make the kissing sound that told him to go faster. He stretched his strong legs into a steady lope.
With the wind in her hair, swerving by pine trunks and through copses of silver green aspens, Kirstie covered the ground. The sun dappled the earth, the breeze shimmered through the trees. She was riding bareback, getting as close to nature as it was possible to be.
8
Less than an hour after her spur of the moment decision to check out Lisa’s sighting of the three missing horses, Kirstie and Rodeo Rocky reached Angel Rock.
The outcrop of pinky gray granite had appeared on the skyline as they skirted wide of the entrance to Lennie Goodman’s trailer park, and Kirstie had kept it in view ever since. Of all the rocks around, this one most lived up to its name, she thought. Sure, Hummingbird Rock was a great label for the outcrop that attracted the tiny, darting birds that sucked nectar from the wildflowers growing all around. And Bear Hunt Overlook was good for the flat ledge of rock where the hunters of old had stood with their guns, searching for black bears and their valuable pelts. But Angel Rock, shaped like the angel you would put on top of a Christmas tree, complete with wings, was the most perfect name of all.
Strong sunlight picked out the shape of the angel’s face in profile, shadows played a fluttery trick and made the wings move as Kirstie approached up the final slope.
“Whoa!” she whispered to Rocky.
It was baking hot, silent except for the clip of the horse’s hooves over the gravelly ground.
When he came to a standstill in the shadow of the rock, Kirstie slid from Rocky’s back and tethered him to a tree. She listened carefully. More silence, seemingly miles of it as she gained the ridge and gazed into the next valley.
“Skeeter, where are you?” she whispered. “Moonpie? Midnight Lady?”
“Hey!” A figure stepped out suddenly from behind Angel Rock.
“Oh, Lisa, you scared me!” She recognized the wild red hair and freckled face of her best friend, noticed the coils of rope hanging from her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
“The same as you, I guess.”
“B-but … How come you didn’t tell me what you were planning?” Kirstie had caught her breath and recovered from the shock.
“I didn’t get the chance. Grandpa heard me talking about Angel Rock and ordered me off the phone. I had to make up an excuse to get away, so he didn’t suspect anything.”
Kirstie nodded. “Likewise.” Excuses and pretenses, and more trouble if they were found out. “They’ll think we planned to meet up here.”
With a shrug, Lisa turned her attention to the tree-covered slopes of the valley. “I just felt I had to help Donna get her horses back, that’s all.”
“You know what they say about great minds.” She and Lisa had thought alike. “I’m hoping that if we get her horses back to her before tomorrow morning, she’ll change her mind about selling the ranch.”
Still scanning the hillside, Lisa nodded. “Would that include Midnight Lady?” she asked quietly.
Kirstie frowned. To take the unbroken gray horse away from these peaceful hills, back to the torment of Leon Franks’s sacking out would break her heart.
“I take it that means no,” Lisa said after a long pause, setting off downhill through the tall, dark trees.
They searched for half an hour without success. If the horses really had been to Angel Rock, they’d left no sign.
“OK, so I imagined it!” Lisa sighed, pushing her hair back from her hot face, then fanning herself with her wide-brimmed hat.
The girls had scoured an area within a half-mile radius of Angel Rock, and come full circle back to the place where Kirstie had tethered Rodeo Rocky. It was time to give in and go home.
The bay horse seemed pleased to see them, snorting and pawing the ground as they returned. He raised his head and pricked his ears, as if expecting to be untied.
“OK, OK, don’t get too excited,” Kirstie told him. His ears were flicking in every direction, then he curled his lips and let out a long, high whinny. She was on the point of loosening the slipknot when a second horse replied.
“You hear that?” Lisa gasped. She froze and listened.
Down in the valley toward Lone Elm, the mystery horse whinnied again. This time it seemed closer.
“What do we do?” Lisa demanded. She’d scrambled onto a rock and was staring in the direction of the agitated cry.
“Wait here!” Kirstie decided. She felt that pretty soon Rocky’s call would attract the other horse to Angel Rock. His herd instinct, together with natural curiosity, would draw him
Sure enough, the dialogue continued. Rocky would whinny to give the stranger his position, the invisible horse would reply.
“He’s getting closer!” Lisa murmured, searching hard for movement on the tree-lined slope. At last she was able to point to a shape gliding through some aspens, reluctant to show himself, but tempted on by Rocky’s dominant call.
Kirstie saw him. Almost as pale as the slender white trunks of the aspens. A gray horse.
“Moonpie!” Lisa recognized the brown-specked, flea-bitten coat.
The horse moved clear of the trees. Yes, it was Moonpie and not Midnight Lady. Kirstie heaved a sigh of relief. “And Skeeter!” she whispered, as a second horse drifted between the tree trunks. The black-and-white paint was easier to spot and identify. Both horses wore head collars and approached without fear, eager to make contact with the tethered bay.
“Wait!” Kirstie murmured again. There was no need to do anything dramatic. Thanks to Rodeo Rocky, Donna’s newly broken broncs were simply walking back into their arms. She turned to Lisa to take one of the ropes which she’d slid from her shoulder.
In her mind’s eye she already had Skeeter and Moonpie safely attached to a lead rope. She and Lisa were walking the horses down to the trailer park. They would call Circle R and wait for Donna to send up a trailer to collect them …
The sound of an engine cut into the hot, heavy peace. Rocky tried to rear, but his tether pulled him down. Moonpie and Skeeter turned up the slope in sudden panic.
A pickup truck was racing up a jeep track between the trees. It skidded to a halt and two men jumped out. They raced through the undergrowth toward the confused horses, cutting off the escape route they had chosen by crowding them into the shadow of Angel Rock.
“Hey!” Kirstie yelled a protest as she recognized Leon Franks and TJ. “There’s no need for that!”
They ignored her, moving in with ropes of their own. They swung lassos over their heads, sending them snaking through the air toward the horses’ heads. Both landed on target and were jerked tight around their necks.
“We said there was no need!” Lisa was angry. She stormed up to Leon, while Kirstie did her best to calm Rodeo Rocky. “We could’ve brought them back nice and gentle!”
“We believe you!” Leon sneered, heaving on the rope to force Moonpie down the hill. “Like, you’re the reason we’ve got this problem in the first place, remember!”
Lisa’s mouth snapped shut, she blushed bright red, changing tack, and running after TJ and Skeeter. “How did you find out where they were?” she d
emanded.
TJ struggled to control the black-and-white horse, whose eyes were staring, his whole body resisting capture. “We got a call from Lennie Goodman,” he muttered, dodging a sideways kick. “We drove over as fast as we could.”
“And what are you gonna do with them?” Lisa had to stand to one side, out of the way of Leon and Moonpie.
“Look, kid, just beat it!” The ranch manager’s shaky hold on his temper gave way as he tried to steer the gray horse toward the truck. “Go on, get out of here!”
He lashed out with his free arm, knocking Lisa backward against a tree. Kirstie heard the thud and ran to help her up.
“Are you OK?” She pulled her to her feet.
Lisa held on to her shoulder. Her face had turned pale, but she nodded.
“Nightmare!” Kirstie hissed. She turned to see the ramp at the back of the truck clatter to the ground and Leon Franks using his full weight to shove Moonpie inside. “No way is that safe!”
Grimacing with pain, still holding onto her arm, Lisa turned away. “The sooner this is over, the better!” she agreed.
It was TJ’s turn to force Skeeter into the truck. He tied the horse to a metal bar behind the driver’s cab, alongside Moonpie. The two horses stamped and pulled, sweating with fear and barging against each other in the confined space.
“If they get them back to Circle R in one piece, it’ll be a miracle!” Kirstie predicted, disgust in her voice. She hated every inch of Leon Franks’s bony, sharp, cruel frame.
He raised the ramp and slammed it shut, then ran to the cab, where TJ was already sitting in the passenger seat. There was a roar from the engine and a puff of black smoke from the exhaust. The sudden jerk forward sent Moonpie and Skeeter into a fresh frenzy. The last glimpse Kirstie and Lisa caught of them through the cloud of smoke was of two horses arching back and kicking, squealing for all they were worth.
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