Red Feather Filly

by Terri Farley

  “Maybe I’ll mount up, too,” Sam told Ace.

  All the horses had been checked by Dr. Scott and most were massed at the starting line. Now, she and Jake joined them.

  On the way, they passed Dad and Brynna. They looked pretty serious, though they were still claiming half the reason they were riding was to keep an eye on Sam.

  Katie Sterling and her father rode tall black horses. Sam had heard someone say that they were Standardbreds.

  Star shied as an electronic screech was followed by Mrs. Allen’s voice on a fuzzy loudspeaker.

  “Last call, riders. All contestants should be lined up at the starting line. It’s now or never, folks.”

  Sam held her breath for a minute, but she couldn’t keep quiet.

  “Don’t Ryan and Jen look great,” Sam whispered to Jake.

  “You know,” he drawled, “I was just sayin’ to myself, that Ryan is one—”

  “Shut up, Jake.”

  Roman and Sky slipped into place about three teams down. Sam leaned forward and waved at Jen. She waved back, but her hands were full with her mount and Sam could hear Ryan’s accented voice as he gave Jen nonstop directions.

  For once, Jen needed them.

  Sky’s dark brown body gleamed as if it had been oiled. He minced sideways, flattening his ears at other horses. Once, he lashed his heels at Roman, but most of the other contestants stayed away.

  “Roman’s making mustangs look good,” Sam told Ace, but then something on the obstacle course ahead caught her eyes.

  She studied it as Mrs. Allen’s voice boomed over the microphone again. “The siren will take the place of a starter’s pistol.”

  “What’s that?” she asked Jake, pointing.

  The field ahead was scattered with all kinds of distractions designed to test horsemanship skills.

  There was a sawhorse topped with flashing red lights, a truck with its backup sound turned on, and two troops of cub scouts. One group carried helium-filled balloons. The other played kazoos.

  Even Jake’s brothers, Quinn and Bryan, were there, pounding a beat on authentic Native American drums. Mac stood by them, looking proud, while Jake’s parents and Gram watched from the sidelines.

  Telephone poles had been laid on the ground to mark off lanes for the first quarter mile of the race.

  “What’s what?” Jake asked.

  “That big truck. Please tell me it’s not filled with Slocum’s buffalo.”

  “Doesn’t matter if it is,” Jake said. “We’re about to go.”

  A Darton County sheriff turned on the siren in his police car for one loud whoop. Chills covered every inch of Sam’s skin and the race began.

  “Good boy, good boy,” Sam crooned to Ace.

  His ears flicked forward, back, and to each side, but he passed the bobbing balloons without a snort and navigated the space between the logs without a single misstep. He hesitated at the bleating kazoos, but when Sam glanced around, she saw he was having far less trouble than most horses.

  Ace made it through the obstacles in first place, and stood fidgeting as he waited for Star.

  A pair of riders on matched chestnuts clearly hadn’t prepared their horses for chaos. One horse was threatening to rear and his partner was already bucking.

  Katie Sterling and her father dashed by, and then a couple that Sam didn’t recognize galloped past on lean ponies in English gear.

  Then Jake caught up.

  “She did not like that heart-shaped balloon,” Jake muttered as the horses fell into a lope.

  Sam looked back once more. One rider down. A number of horses were shying or refusing to pass obstacles that seemed especially terrifying.

  “We don’t have time to look back,” Jake shouted, and this time, Sam followed his order without protest.

  Leaving Deerpath Ranch, they galloped across the range for La Charla.

  Neither horse balked at the water crossing, although one of the ponies’ riders stood knee-deep and drenched, remounting in midstream.

  As soon as Sam and Jake were through the river, the trail turned south. Ace stretched out, loving this flat stretch that took them past River Bend Ranch. Star caught his excitement and ran beside him.

  Sam looked to her right. Jake rode Star bareback, with only a lightweight bridle. Though the filly’s eyes were wide and her head whipped from side to side, enjoying the scenery, she ran almost in step with Ace.

  The course had just turned east at the Gold Dust Ranch when Sam heard hooves thundering up from behind.

  Jake had told her not to look back, not to lose her concentration on the trail ahead, but she couldn’t help it.

  Roman’s flaring nostrils and level head were just feet away. The mustang looked free again. Ryan lay low on his neck, letting the gelding run.

  Jen was half a length behind, but suddenly Sky’s legs reached ahead of Roman’s and he swept past Ace.

  In wordless agreement, Sam and Jake tucked their horses in behind Jen and Ryan. When the other horses tired, they’d pass them.

  The black Standardbreds kept the lead, but Jen and Ryan were close behind.

  Sky should be tired, Sam thought. All the energy he put into misbehaving at the start would have to tell on him.

  Far behind her, Sam heard a scream. Don’t look back, she ordered herself, and it was a good thing she didn’t. Just ahead, one of the blacks was falling behind. It was the one ridden by Katie Sterling’s dad. As she reined in, staying with her dad and his horse, Jen and Ryan flew into first place.

  “After them!” Jake shouted.

  Star and Ace seemed to understand. They split, one passing to each side of Roman and Sky, and galloped into the lead, dashing across the white expanse of War Drum Flats.

  Another scream and more commotion made Sam and Jake both look back.

  What could be going on? Sam’s eyes scanned the horses and riders, the familiar terrain, and suddenly she saw it.

  A huge brown buffalo parted the running horses with his horned and curly head. He ran as fast as the horses!

  Jake nodded right and Star veered off. Ace swung after her and they let the buffalo take the lead.

  He didn’t want it. Maybe he recognized Jen or Ryan or Sky, or maybe it was just coincidence that the buffalo swerved toward those from his new home.

  Sky panicked. Avoiding the charge, he tried to rear, but Jen forced him down. Tail and legs stiff with fear, Sky swerved into Roman. The mustang stumbled, but didn’t fall. Sky’s eyes rolled white and his breathing was so loud, Sam heard it over the pounding of hooves. But Roman and Sky were shoulder to shoulder now. They looked safe and the buffalo was falling behind.

  “Go for it!” Sam called to Jake, and Ace and Star burst ahead with renewed energy.

  The finish line at Deerpath Ranch was just ahead. They could make it. They could win!

  All at once, there was a bawling sound and a crash.

  Sam looked back in time to see Sky fall.

  “Jen!” Sam screamed, and she felt Ace hesitate beneath her.

  Jake began talking to Star as she hopped, threatening to buck. He tightened his reins. The pinto shook her head wildly, eager to run on, but he didn’t let her. Sam did the same thing, but Ace was ready to slow.

  Jake and Sam turned their mounts in a wide circle, back toward Jen.

  Jen was on the ground, trying to stand. She gripped one of her split reins and got to her feet just as Sky scrambled up.

  The black Standardbreds flashed past but Sam was watching Jen.

  Jen’s palms were bloody and so was one of her cheeks. Through the ripped knees of her jeans, Sam saw more blood.

  Sky neighed and backed to the end of his reins, shaking his head and then, Sam saw Ryan.

  Roman was slinging his head from side to side, fighting the reins as Ryan ordered him to run straight. Didn’t he see Jen in his path?

  “Mount up!” Sam shouted.

  If Roman didn’t trample Jen, another horse could. She’d be safer in the saddle.


  Jen used the back of her hand to bat one white-blond braid away from the corner of her mouth.

  “I’m fine,” she shouted at Sam. “Go on, go on.”

  Her shout pushed Sky over the edge. He began bucking, and when Jen tripped, then used her hands to cover her head, he broke loose and ran after the leaders. But a riderless horse couldn’t win.

  Sam’s mind spun. Only the black Standardbreds had passed. With Jen’s horse lost and Ryan battling Roman, she and Jake could pass the Standardbreds. They already had once. They could win.

  There were two riders coming up behind them. They’d have to hurry.

  But she couldn’t leave Jen out here, on foot. With bison on the loose, Jen was in danger.

  “Here!” Sam said. She kicked her boot free of the stirrup and reached down for Jen.

  Jen looked back and saw Ryan fighting Roman. Foam flew from the liver chestnut’s gaping mouth and Sam saw Jen give up. She grabbed Sam’s hand and jammed her foot in the stirrup.

  Sam coughed against the dust, but just as Jen swung up behind her, she saw the two approaching riders more clearly. They were Dad and Brynna.

  Dad’s questioning expression turned into astonishment, then pride.

  Sam waved him on. “Someone in the family might as well win!”

  “Sure?” he shouted.

  “We’re fine!” Sam reined Ace next to Jake and Ryan. Star and Roman were trotting together as if they’d been schooled to do it. “Just watch out for the buffalo.”

  Dad touched his hat brim in a sort of salute, then he and Brynna galloped on.

  “You can still do it,” Jen said, slipping down from Ace.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  Jen bolted toward Ryan, and stood near him.

  They looked fine, Sam thought. Her heart pounded hard in her chest and Ace stood tall.

  “Yes,” Ryan said, “thanks, but we’ll take it slow from here. You might as well go on.”

  Ryan’s gratitude was all they needed to set Star and Ace into a last bolt for the finish line.

  Low on the filly’s neck, Jake’s black hair mixed with her mane, and the scarlet feather might have been his.

  Sam leaned further forward, cheek pressed to Ace’s neck. Wind whipped tears into her eyes, but she was smiling.

  Honking horns and shouts came from the finish line as the Sterlings won. Brynna and Dad were right behind them, a certain second.

  Third place wasn’t so bad, Sam thought, especially when the horses didn’t know they hadn’t won.

  Ace pranced beside Star and the filly tossed her head, wide-mouthed with excitement as they rode past Linc Slocum who was having a serious conversation next to a Darton County sheriff’s squad car.

  Jake’s family stood with Gram, Brynna, and Dad. The Ely brothers had gathered together and began talking excitedly as Sam and Jake approached.

  “Buffalo hunt, man,” Bryan shouted to Jake. “Slocum’s in trouble for failure to keep track of his buffalo.”

  Mrs. Ely tried to shush him, but Quinn took over.

  “Only seven escaped, but we get to ride after ’em! Is that cool, or what?”

  Nate had borrowed three horses. At a hammering trot, he returned riding one and leading two.

  He passed Ryan leading Roman and walking with Jen, who was mounted again on Sky. Sam grinned at the way her bedraggled friend was lecturing Sky and ordering him to behave.

  Bryan swung into the saddle of a rose-gray Arab. Quinn mounted Jeepers-Creepers and the Appaloosa tossed his head, still ready to run.

  “Let’s go, man, let’s go!” Bryan yelled.

  Before he joined them, though, Jake turned to Ryan.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and, for the first time all day, Star sidestepped and tossed her head.

  She felt her rider’s nerves, Sam thought. What was Jake about to say to Ryan?

  “Your mustang did great,” Jake said.

  “Thank you,” Ryan replied in astonishment. “Really, thank you very much.”

  Mac watched with quiet satisfaction, nodding.

  Jake rode a little closer and Star rubbed her neck against Ace’s. The gelding blew through his lips, stamped, and lowered his head.

  Sam met Jake’s eyes. She wanted to go on the buffalo hunt. Jake wouldn’t mind, but Ace was tired.

  “Jake!” Nate shouted.

  A hundred yards away, all three Ely brothers were circling on rocking, rambunctious horses. Only Jake was still here.

  They should go together and she should stay.

  “What are you waiting for?” Sam asked.

  Jake smiled, gave Star a touch with his heels, and the filly swung around. Seeing the other running horses, she leaped with all four feet off the ground, then set off at a gallop.

  As Sam dismounted slowly, watching them go, Dad walked up, leading Nike.

  “I’m proud of you, honey.” He hugged her with one arm.

  Brynna jogged up on foot.

  “I just heard the buffalo have been sighted, clumped in a herd, and heading for the river.”

  “I think they heard, too,” Sam said, laughing.

  Jake and his brothers were yelling, riding full out in a noisy band.

  “Do you know,” Mac confided to Dad, “I thought I’d be long, long passed over before I saw all my boys grown up and on a buffalo raid. But there it is, right before my eyes.”

  They all watched as Star bolted ahead, carrying Jake.

  With the wind in his hair and sun on his back, he looked like a part of the filly.

  Sam watched them out of sight. Even when they’d vanished, she couldn’t stop smiling.

  About the Author

  Terri Farley has always loved horses. She left Los Angeles for the cowgirl state of Nevada after earning degrees in English and Journalism. Now she rides the range researching books and magazine articles on the West’s people and animals—especially Nevada’s controversial wild horses. She lives in a one-hundred-year-old house with her husband, children, and way too many pets.

  Visit www.phantomstallion.com

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  Read all the books in the PHANTOM STALLION series:

  1

  THE WILD ONE

  2

  MUSTANG MOON

  3

  DARK SUNSHINE

  4

  THE RENEGADE

  5

  FREE AGAIN

  6

  THE CHALLENGER

  7

  DESERT DANCER

  8

  GOLDEN GHOST

  9

  GIFT HORSE

  10

  RED FEATHER FILLY

  11

  UNTAMED

  Credits

  Cover art © 2004 by Greg Call

  Cover © 2004 by HarperCollins Publishers Inc.

  Copyright

  PHANTOM STALLION #10: RED FEATHER FILLY. Copyright © 2004 by Terri Sprenger-Farley. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  Adobe Digital Edition February 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-188846-5

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