Johnny Mohawk

by Jenny Oldfield

  “And that’s not all!” Stevie saw Sandy and Matt, and his voice grew louder. He didn’t care who heard. Let Troy and Brad come close with the horses, let them all hear what he had to say! “The next bit is about my first accident!”

  “Later!” Roughly, Paddy Kane pulled him away.

  “No, Dad; now. That was my fault, too. I fell, OK? Johnny Mohawk didn’t buck me off. There wasn’t even a bear to spook him. Nothing. Just me and my bad riding!”

  Sandy Scott stopped in her tracks. She hooked her fingers through the belt loops of her jeans and listened.

  “Say that again!” Matt acted like he couldn’t believe his ears. “Go ahead, say it!”

  “I made Johnny Mohawk go along the track by cutting him with my stick,” Stevie told them loud and clear. “No one was looking, so when he still wouldn’t go, I kicked him until he did. He lost his footing and started to slide down the hill. I was yelling at him and making things worse. In the end, I lost my balance and fell off. That’s it. End of story!”

  Yes! Kirstie clenched her fists tight. Johnny Mohawk was innocent. Stevie had admitted it! Yes, yes!

  Lisa smiled softly at Stevie. Sandy nodded at Matt.

  Paddy Kane dropped Stevie’s arm and stepped back. Small muscles in his jaw clicked and jumped, his mouth opened but no words came out.

  Stevie shook his head as if to say sorry. “And, Dad, I don’t want to follow in your footsteps and be a jockey,” he whispered so that no one but Lisa, Kirstie, and Paddy Kane could hear him. “There’s no way I’d ever be good enough; not if I worked at it for the rest of my life!”

  “At a time like that, I guess a man just has to take it,” Hadley murmured.

  As soon as the wrangler came back from the morning ride, Kirstie had told him word for word what had happened between Paddy and Stevie Kane.

  “Paddy said he was sorry!” That was the incredible part: Mr. Kane’s face creasing up as if he was in pain after Stevie had said he wasn’t good enough, a few seconds of silence, then the words, “Son, I’m sorry!” spilling out of his mouth.

  Hadley nodded without stopping work. They were in the corral, checking Johnny Mohawk for cuts and bruises after his latest adventure, before Hadley sent him back to Red Fox Meadow with Kirstie.

  “And now there’s not gonna be any court case!” Kirstie went on. “No attorneys, no writs to say that the ranch was to blame for Stevie’s accident—nothing!”

  “Hmm.” Hadley lifted Johnny’s feet and checked the shoes for sharp stones.

  “Mom says it all happened because there was too much pressure. She says the Kanes never meant any harm, not really.”

  “Hmm.”

  “She said we just had to wait until they came to their senses.”

  “That Troy kid, and his big brother, did they say they were sorry?” Hadley asked. He slipped a head collar onto Johnny and handed the lead rope over to Kirstie.

  “No way!” she laughed. “They’re eating lunch right now, planning another race with Charlie!”

  “What did Charlie say?”

  “He said, ‘Why not practice some tricks for Saturday’s rodeo instead?’ ” Kirstie had caught this before she came across to the corral. The Saturday event was the way they always rounded off a week’s activities on the ranch. “He promised to teach them some new ones. But not on Johnny Mohawk and Rodeo Rocky. He told them the horses needed to rest.”

  “Good for Charlie,” Hadley grunted. “So you’re OK?”

  Kirstie’s eyebrows shot up; Hadley never asked you if you were OK because he always supposed you were. “I’m fine.”

  “And Lisa; she’s OK?”

  Kirstie grinned. “She’s great!” Kirstie still couldn’t get over the way her friend had handled Stevie.

  Hadley nodded and tipped back his hat. “So take the horse to the meadow.”

  “C’mon, Johnny!” Kirstie said, leading the horse out into the yard with the sun beating down and across the bridge on to the soft green turf.

  Linda and Carole Holgate sat on the riverbank in shorts and bare feet, waving at Kirstie and Johnny as they went by. Ahead, leaning on the fence by Red Fox Meadow, Lisa and Stevie stood deep in conversation.

  “Hey, Lisa!” she called.

  “Hey, Kirstie!”

  Stevie ran to open the gate.

  “Thanks, Stevie.” She smiled and nodded. Their eyes made warm contact. Everything had worked out fine.

  She was through the gate and Johnny was already thinking of all the grass and clover he would eat. His head was up, his neck making that amazing arc. He was tossing his black mane, high-stepping into the meadow, impatient for Kirstie to take off the collar.

  For a few seconds, she held on to the rope. After all, she’d almost lost him.

  Until Stevie told the truth.

  Not that Kirstie had ever doubted Johnny Mohawk. She let him go now with a swift movement to unbuckle the head collar. He ducked his beautiful head and slipped away, gathered speed, and galloped like a dream.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Born and brought up in Harrogate, Yorkshire, Jenny Oldfield went on to study English at Birmingham University, where she did research on the Brontë novels and on children’s literature. She then worked as a teacher before deciding to concentrate on writing. She writes novels for both children and adults and, when she can escape from her desk, likes to spend time outdoors. She loves the countryside and enjoys walking, gardening, playing tennis, riding, and traveling with her two daughters, Kate and Eve.