Storm Chaser

by Chris Platt

  Duncan cleared his throat and waited for their father’s nod before he spoke. “We just lost our barn and hay supply. So…” He fiddled with his potatoes and stared down at his plate.

  “Go on,” Mrs. Warner encouraged. “What are your concerns, Duncan?”

  “Can we afford to do this? I mean, I love Wild Hawk and all, but it’s not exactly a five-star resort.”

  Jake Warner tipped back in his chair and laughed. It was the first time Jessica had heard him laugh since the fire.

  Mrs. Warner shushed her husband and squeezed Duncan’s hand. “We’ll be cutting a few corners, honey, but we’ve got enough money to get the barn started and buy the towels and linens and things we’ll need for the guests. A lot of the other stuff we’ve already got lying around here. It’s mostly going to be a matter of getting everything together and putting in a lot of hard work.”

  Duncan went back to eating. That told Jessica that her brother thought everything would be fine. She stared around the table. Everyone seemed to be okay with the project. That meant they’d have guests at Wild Hawk soon!

  Jessica could hardly wait to finish dinner. She wanted to get back to the corrals to check on Rusty and Chase, then maybe afterwards she’d give Marybeth a call. She was sure her friend would be pretty excited about the dude ranch, too. They’d talked many times when they’d ridden together, wishing that there were more girls nearby for them to hang out with.

  When she finished her last bite of salad, Jessica excused herself so she could check on the horses. Her mother winked at her as she left the table, and Jessie realized that her mom probably felt the same way about the prospect of dude ranch guests as she did, even though it would mean a lot of extra work. She flashed her mother a smile and went outside.

  Rusty nickered as soon as he saw her.

  “You just finished eating, you old greedy-gut,” Jessica told him. “Don’t be asking for more. I’m just here to clean out the pan you guys were soaking your feet in.”

  Chase eyed her warily and snorted when Jessica dragged the metal pan to the edge of the corral. The water sloshed over the sides and was quickly absorbed into the dry ground. She dragged the container outside the railing and dumped it over, holding her breath as the smelly concoction spread across the sand.

  She rinsed and stored the pan, then returned to the corral and sat on the top rail. Rusty walked forward and stuck his nose in her midsection, begging for a scratch. She played with his forelock, then scratched his neck and finger-combed his mane. From her perch atop the fence, Jess could plainly see the burn marks on Rusty’s back. She climbed down and rummaged through the brush bucket, looking for the salve she had placed there.

  Rusty stood patiently while she dabbed the medicine on his burned areas. Jessica knew some of them had to hurt badly, but the old horse stood patiently, letting her care for him. She glanced over his broad back, staring at Storm Chaser. “Do you see how this is done? See how nice and quiet Rusty stands here?” she chided. “You’re supposed to act like I’m your friend.”

  Storm Chaser flicked her ears, listening to the sound of Jessica’s voice. Jessica tried to keep her words soft and even, the way her father had taught her. A loud or excited tone of voice might cause a horse to think there was trouble. In the wild, a horse’s best defense was to run away from the danger. Jessica didn’t want the new filly to run away from her.

  A movement on the other side of the stable yard caught her eye. Jessica stood on the rail to get a better view as Duncan entered the new horses’ pen and singled out the blue roan. He expertly and quietly drove the gelding toward the opening to the next pen without causing the rest of the herd to move.

  Jessie sighed. Her brother was a great horseman. Horses responded to Duncan like he was one of their own. If she’d gone into that pen, the new horses would have bolted every which way. Some day she hoped to be as good at working with the beautiful animals as her father and brother. But even her dad recognized Duncan was special. He had always had a way with horses.

  “I’ll be back,” she said to Rusty and Chase as she climbed off the fence and tossed the ointment into the brush bucket. Duncan was starting work on the first of the new horses, the blue roan, and she wanted to watch. Maybe if she could learn how he did things, she’d be able to do a little work with Chase. If she could get the halter on the skittish filly, maybe her father would have more faith in her and let her try to train the paint.

  Jessica hung back under the shade of the big quaking aspen trees not far from the training pen. She hoped Duncan wouldn’t notice her. He didn’t like having an audience.

  At first, her brother didn’t do anything. He just let the horse move around the circle, looking over the fence and calling to the other horses. Jessica recognized Rusty’s and Chase’s cries of concern along with the wild ones in the pen. The blue roan continued to pace on the side closest to his buddies. Being a herd animal, he wanted to get back to his friends.

  Duncan let the colt pace for another minute, then coiled his lasso and gently urged the roan into trotting the entire circular pen. The colt tried to ignore him, but with each insolent toss of the horse’s head, Duncan lifted the rope higher into the air or slapped it against his thigh, causing the colt to move a little bit faster.

  Her brother preferred to work the young horses in the evening after dinner. It was cooler and he could push them harder. After a few minutes, the exercise began to wear on the colt. Jessica noticed that the blue roan looked inward to Duncan, recognizing that the boy was the one forcing him into running.

  Jessie heard the crunch of boots and turned to see Marybeth walking toward her. Today Marybeth had on baby blue chaps over her jeans, a brightly colored western shirt, and a too-big hat that had to belong to her father. Jess wanted to roll her eyes, but instead she just smiled a welcome.

  Marybeth started to speak, but Jessica put her finger to her lips, pointing to Duncan and the horse in the round pen. Marybeth tiptoed the rest of the way and stopped beside her. Jessica could tell that her friend was wondering why they were being so secretive.

  “Duncan doesn’t like people watching him,” Jessica whispered. “I thought I’d stand back here and spy. Maybe I can learn something.”

  Her friend nodded. “So you can work with that paint filly you e-mailed me about, right?”

  Jessica shrugged. “If I can pick up some pointers, I can use them on any horse, not just Storm Chaser,” she said.

  “Why don’t you just ask your brother to teach you some stuff?” Marybeth asked. “Duncan’s really nice. I’m sure he’d do it.”

  Jessica shook her head. “The problem is, my father doesn’t want me training horses. He thinks I’m too young.” She crammed her hands deep into her jean pockets. “If he’d just give me a chance, I could prove to him that I’m ready.”

  “Oh,” said Marybeth. “I get it.”

  Duncan took one step toward the colt and raised his rope. The roan slid to a halt and reversed direction in a perfect rollback on the fence, cantering off at a good clip and kicking up his heels.

  “Wow,” Marybeth whispered. “How’d he get him to do that?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jessica watched in fascination. “I’m trying to figure it out.” Duncan hadn’t said a word to the horse, or taken more than one step forward. Yet the colt seemed to read his mind and act on cue.

  At that moment, Duncan turned in their direction, his gaze seeming to penetrate the shadows of the large trees. Jessica and Marybeth both tried to duck.

  “No sense hiding in the trees,” Duncan said in a slow, easy voice. It sounded almost like the one he used on the skittish horses he trained. “Come on out here if you want to learn something.”

  Jessica grabbed Marybeth by the shirt and dragged her friend out with her. She didn’t know why she was suddenly shy around her brother—probably because she knew he didn’t like being spied on, and that was exactly what she’d been doing.

  “You can come a little closer, but don’t get too nea
r the pen. I don’t want this colt to get distracted.”

  The blue roan turned his attention on the girls as soon as they stepped out of the shadows. Duncan waved the rope and made smooching noises, pulling the colt’s concentration back to him. The horse made several more rounds before Duncan took a step forward, raising the rope. The colt immediately changed direction.

  “See what I’m doing here?” Duncan asked.

  Marybeth didn’t make a peep. She seemed a little bit intimidated by Duncan and his talent with horses. Jessica answered for the both of them. “Well, he’s doing a nice rollback, sliding and turning on his haunches and jumping off in the other direction, but I don’t know how you could have taught him that in just a few minutes. All you’re doing is raising your rope.”

  Duncan smiled. “I’m using the horse’s natural tendencies and abilities to get him to do what I want.”

  Jess nodded and stepped a little closer.

  “When this horse first entered the pen, he ran around and kept pacing the side that his herd mates were on,” Duncan continued. “All he was thinking about was how to get back to them. Then I asked him to trot for me.” He smooched the horse into an extended trot. “See? I’m making him work and he’s starting to get tired, so now he’s paying attention to me, just like I want him to.”

  Duncan took a step toward the horse and raised his rope again. The stout quarter horse slid to a stop, spinning on his hind legs and charged off in the opposite direction. Then Duncan lowered his rope and let his arms drop to his sides. The colt halted and turned inward, facing him.

  “Good boy,” Duncan crooned. The horse’s ears flicked forward and back, listening to the sound of the boy’s voice. The roan dropped his head a little and licked his lips. “See that?” Duncan said. “That means he’s thinking about what just happened. Good boy.” He rewarded the horse with the soft sound of his voice.

  Duncan turned and motioned for Jessica to enter the pen.

  “Me?” she squeaked.

  Her brother offered her a big smile. “You said you wanted to learn how to train horses, didn’t you? Well, here’s your first lesson.”

  Jessica looked over her shoulder toward the house. What would her father think? She knew he was mainly worried about her falling off and getting hurt. Free lunging a horse in the round pen wasn’t riding, so her father couldn’t really object to that. Could he?

  “I’m not going to offer again,” Duncan said.

  Marybeth gave her a push and Jessica stumbled forward. She quickly squeezed through the rails before Duncan had a chance to change his mind—or her father came out of the house to object. She was going to get her first official training lesson!

  EIGHT

  Jessica walked to where Duncan waited in the middle of the pen. He pointed to a long lunge whip on the ground near her feet. “You can start out with that. It’ll make things easier for you.”

  She picked up the whip, then stood in the center of the ring with her brother. The blue roan took his eyes off them and stuck his head over the top bar of the pen, calling to his friends.

  “Get after him now,” Duncan said. “Bring his attention right back here to us.”

  Jessica snapped the whip. At the sound of the sharp crack, the colt took off in a spray of sand, kicking up his heels as he circled the pen at a dizzying speed.

  “Easy, there, big guy,” Duncan said, turning in a circle while keeping his eye on the horse.

  “How come you don’t get dizzy?” Jessica asked.

  “Just keep watching the colt,” Duncan instructed. “If he starts to forget about us and looks anywhere but at you and me, just shake that whip and make him go faster. He needs to know that you’re the boss.”

  Jessica kept her eye on the horse and nodded.

  “You know how horses always have a pecking order?” Duncan said. “Well, right now you’re trying to show him that you’re the lead horse, and he has to do what you say.”

  When the roan slowed his pace, Jessica stepped forward and snapped the whip. The colt immediately came to a sliding halt and pivoted on his hind legs. Then he charged off in the other direction.

  “What happened?” Jessica cried. “I asked him to speed up, but he turned and went the other way.”

  “Well, you actually asked him to turn,” Duncan said.

  “What do you mean?” Jessica asked, confused.

  “Imagine that a horse has an invisible line leading from just in front of his withers and all the way to the ground.”

  Duncan motioned for Marybeth to come over, too. The younger girl squeezed eagerly through the steel railing. She looked thrilled to be included in the training session.

  “Here’s what happens,” Duncan continued. “When you step toward the front end of the horse, or point the whip in front of that imaginary line, the horse will turn and go the other direction. If you put pressure from behind that line, it will cause the colt to move forward. Give it a try, Jess. Make him turn and go the other direction.”

  Jessica concentrated hard, trying to determine when to make her move. It was hard with the horse cantering at a fast pace.

  “Come on, Jess,” Marybeth said. “You can do it.”

  Jessica picked her moment, stepped forward, and shouted the word “turn,” but the roan shied inward toward the rail and broke into a fast trot.

  “Try it again,” Duncan said.

  Jessica tried, but once again, the horse dodged closer to the panels and continued in the same direction.

  “You need to get more ahead of him,” Marybeth shouted over the sound of the horse’s heavy breathing and the pounding of hooves in deep sand.

  “Great,” Jessica muttered under her breath. Like she really needed a kid telling her how to do things. Marybeth might not find this so easy to do if she were doing it herself. “Why is it that you barely speak above a whisper and hardly move at all, and the horse knows exactly what you want? I practically yell, and almost step in front of him, and he still doesn’t do what I want.”

  Duncan moved up behind Jessica and took her by the shoulders, steering her to the place where she needed to be. “It just takes time and patience to figure it all out,” he said. “Sometimes you’ve got to start big to get it right and scale back later. Now, when I say go, step out and point that whip ahead of the horse. Make him believe that you’re the one in charge.”

  Jessica nodded.

  “Go!”

  Jessie didn’t hesitate this time. She stepped forward and pointed her whip at the horse’s nose. “Turn!” she commanded. To her delight, the roan gelding slammed on the brakes and turned toward the fence in a perfect rollback.

  “Let him circle a few times, then turn him back the other way,” Duncan said, stepping away.

  The gelding trotted three more rounds. When Jessica tried to turn him in the other direction, however, the horse ignored her once again.

  “Watch your timing, Jess!” Duncan shouted.

  Marybeth crept closer. “Now, Jess!” she yelled.

  This time, Jessica didn’t hesitate. She let the horse know exactly what she wanted him to do. He shifted all of his weight to his hindquarters and performed a perfect turn toward the fence line.

  “Good job, Jess!” Duncan said.

  “Woohoo!” Marybeth called, clapping loudly.

  Jessica smiled big and basked in the glory of the moment. She was actually learning to train horses! As soon as Storm Chaser was sound, she’d be able to try this on the filly. Her father couldn’t possibly get mad at her for improving the horse. She technically wouldn’t be riding Chase, Jessica reasoned, so there wouldn’t be any danger.

  It just might happen. The next few days would be filled with cleaning and getting the bunkhouses ready for guests. Hopefully, in between chores and while her dad was busy on other things, she could find some time to soak the paint’s foot and let it heal. If it got better soon, she might even have a chance to practice her new training skills on the little filly.

  “Okay, Jess,”
Duncan said, interrupting her thoughts. “This time, go still and lower the whip to your side. We want this colt to stop his movement and turn in to face us.”

  “What makes you think he’ll do that?” Jessica asked.

  Duncan took back the whip and set it at their feet, motioning for Jessica to drop her hands to her sides. “Because he’s tired and he wants to rest.”

  Just as Duncan had predicted, the roan slowed to a halt and turned in to face them. “Good boy,” Duncan praised him, and the roan took a step toward them. Duncan turned to Jessica. “By this time tomorrow, I’ll have a halter on him.”

  “Right,” Jessie said, giving her brother a skeptical look.

  “Wow,” Marybeth said. “Really?”

  Duncan grinned. “Guess you’ll just have to show up tomorrow and see.”

  The next morning, Jessica sprang out of bed as soon as her alarm sounded. Today they’d begin cleaning the bunk-houses. She never thought she’d be excited about housework, but the sooner they got the buildings in order, the faster the guests would arrive—and the faster she’d have new friends!

  Money for the ranch would arrive faster, too. Her father had said that the new hay crop would be ready to cut in another month—if they got another good rain. If they didn’t, the hay wouldn’t grow much and they’d have fewer bales on their next cutting. Her family needed a heavy crop to make up for what they’d lost, and they also had to put up as much as they regularly did on the second cutting.

  Jessica sighed. It seemed that ranchers were always at the mercy of Mother Nature.

  She slipped downstairs and poured herself a glass of orange juice, then fixed a quick bowl of cereal. Marybeth had helped her set out the cleaning buckets and brooms the night before. Now they were just waiting for someone to come along and use them.

  “Good morning, Jess.” Her mother kissed the top of her head and reached for the cereal box. “No time for making a hot breakfast this morning. We’ve got lots of work ahead of us.” She smiled at Jessica as she poured milk over her cereal and picked up her spoon. “We received a check from the insurance company. Some of the lumber for the new barn will be delivered this morning. And we already have reservations for our first vacationers.”