Blazing the Trail (Sunshine & Shadow Book 5)

by Alie Williamson

  The driver handed her a form. She signed the bottom.

  “And this is for you.” He handed her an envelope.

  As the giant truck drove away, leaving behind a cloud of white, April ripped the letter open. Inside was a small, white card. She flipped it over.

  He is yours, after all. He missed you.

  April ripped the card up and shoved it into her pocket. She trudged through the snow and ice and stepped inside the warm lodge. Someone had lit a fire, and the interior of the building had a golden glow. She took her gloves off and set them on the hearth, watching a clump of snow melt into a puddle of freezing cold water on the stones.

  April sat in the armchair, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbing her book from the coffee table. She found her marker and flipped to the page, continuing where she left off.

  The quiet felt nice. Peaceful.

  The silence was shattered as Caleb rushed through the lodge door, sliding around the corner and into the office, where April’s dad was working.

  Her dad followed him back out, shrugging on his jacket.

  “What’s going on?” April asked, closing her book.

  “Caleb’s spotted those mustangs that have been driving the herd off the ridge.”

  “What mustangs?”

  “Grab your horse; we’ll explain on the way.”

  As they rode along the ridge, the sky dropped snowflakes down their backs. April’s head was protected by her cowboy hat and she used the brim as best as she could to knock the ice off low-hanging branches before it dropped onto her neck. Chinook shook his head every time the snow landed on his mane, spraying the glistening drops into the fresh powder either side of the trail. April glanced sideways at Kip, riding beside her. Her dad and Caleb rode ahead, and Adam and Hailey brought up the rear.

  Kip ignored her, though she knew he felt her gaze. She wished he would look up, just once, so that she could smile at him. She missed seeing his smile.

  The team rounded the ridge and followed the steep mountain pass up onto the high point of the bluff. The terrain was dangerous, and they usually didn’t risk it. But no-one had ever seen the mustangs, just heard of them. Ranchers, however, had seen acres and acres of good grazing land stripped bare by the wilds. Nobody had believed Old Man Fred when he had come roaring into the town meeting in his truck, complaining about the mustangs that had starved his herd; not until they too had been victims themselves.

  April knew her father planned to capture these horses and ship them far away, probably splitting them up, not caring where they ended up, just as long as it was far from Blue Haven.

  April loved mustangs—something so primitive and wild that it can withstand the harshest winter, and brave the most scorching summer, ever surviving, ever thriving. There was something that awakened inside of horses when they needed an extra push just to survive; something magical, something magnificent. Chinook was half mustang and April could tell he knew where his roots were. His spirit was that of a wild animal, tolerating humans because he had befriended them, not because he had been dominated by them.

  That was why people said that women couldn’t gentle mustangs; they were too proud, too hard headed. It was said that they needed a masculine dominance in order to submit to the will of a human. April had proved that wrong with Chinook; she didn’t want a submissive horse. She wanted a horse that tested her boundaries, that spoke back, and that questioned everything. She wanted to be challenged and she wanted a willing partner, not an animal that resented you every step of the way.

  April’s dad stopped his horse, holding his finger to his lips. Something was making a lot of noise ahead of them, whinnying and snorting. Chinook’s head lifted; he could smell something interesting.

  “Come on,” April’s dad whispered.

  They stepped forward, keeping their horses quiet and calm. Through the trees they could see a small clearing that had been flattened. They could hear the thunderous sound of hoof-beats ahead.

  “Come on!” April’s dad shouted, spurring his horse into a full gallop.

  The horses jumped through the deep snow and were soon sweating and breathing heavily. The team could still hear the thunder in front of them, but it was getting farther away.

  “Dad!” April called. “Dad, stop! We’re never gonna catch them!”

  She slowed Chinook and the team followed suit.

  “April!” her dad complained.

  “It’s true! You think a bunch of saddle horses are gonna catch up to a mustang herd?”

  April’s dad shook his head in disappointment. He gritted his teeth. “We were so close! Dammit!”

  Caleb patted his boss on the shoulder. “We’ll find ‘em again, boss.”

  A horse whinnied from April’s right. She looked at Kip. He shook his head; it hadn’t come from Charger. April looked past him, into the forest, and noticed the brush there was disturbed; the herd had moved through the trees too.

  “How many are there?” April wondered out loud.

  The whinny sounded again and her eyes opened wide. She put her finger to her lips and urged Chinook forward. The horse was reluctant to go. April looked down at her horse and pressed the issue. Finally, he began to move.

  April walked through the snow alone, gesturing to everyone else to stay put. She approached the tree line, and Chinook stopped.

  She nudged him gently.

  He didn’t move.

  She dug her heels into his sides.

  He still didn’t move.

  “Come on!” April murmured. She slapped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say anything out loud.

  The noise in the trees started up again, this time desperate. The animal sounded like it was dying. It was snorting and whinnying, grunting as it thrashed about in the brush. April could hear twigs snapping and the impact of a hoof against a solid object, like a tree. She peered into the thick forest, wishing she could see clearer.

  She turned around and gestured to Kip. He approached her quietly. April knew Charger would go forward, and Chinook would follow. They stepped through the trees as quietly as they could; wincing every time the horses snapped a branch. Both saddle horses had their ears pricked forward and the mustang in the trees was continuing on with his racket.

  They turned a corner, weaving around a large group of dense willow trees and could suddenly see what was making all the noise.

  A grey mustang was standing in a small clearing, sweating hard. When she saw April and Kip, she froze, her nostrils flared, as she scented the air. April was stunned. It wasn’t usual for a wild horse to stand its ground when confronted by humans, even if they were on horseback. Then April could see why the horse wasn’t moving.

  Her eyes travelled down its front leg to where its hoof was supposed to be. The hoof was invisible, hidden behind a thick array of broken branches, snow, and the unmistakable steel jaw of a closed bear trap.

  April gasped, covering her mouth.

  “Kip...” she murmured.

  “I see it.”

  Kip softly, but deftly, unwound his lasso from his saddle horn and arranged the coils in his left hand. Charger stood still, his ears pinned on the mustang.

  “It’s a mare,” Kip said, quietly. “She’s pregnant.”

  “Oh my God,” April said.

  Kip swung the rope over his head; once, twice, three times. He let the loop go, watching it sail through the air and land over the mare’s neck, resting on her shoulders. The horse flinched but didn’t move. Eyes glued to the mustang, Kip began to slowly gather the lariat length. The noose tightened around the mare’s neck and as it became snug, she threw herself down into a giant buck, lifting up on her hind legs and heaving her body away from Charger. Kip dallied on his horn and held on, as the smaller mare began to tire. The trap chain was buried deep in the ground, stopping the prey from dragging the trap and escaping from the hunter. She swung around on the chain, trying to pull it loose.

  “Easy girl. Easy,” Kip said. His voice was soothing an
d April could see the effect it had on the mustang. Her head dropped slightly and she heaved a sigh, breathing heavily.

  “How far along do you think she is?” April asked, speaking as softly as she could.

  “Pretty much ready to drop.”

  “How are we going to get her loose?”

  “Go get your dad.”

  April looked at him sharply. “No...He’ll kill her, Kip. You know he will!”

  Kip frowned. “April,” he said, a warning tone in his voice. “Go get your dad.”

  “But...”

  “I won’t let him hurt her, okay, but I am not letting you crouch by her to cut the chain!”

  “But we can’t get her back even if we cut the chain. She can’t travel with the trap still on.”

  Kip gritted his teeth. “Just go get your dad!”

  April turned Chinook around to face the meadow and spurred him on. She could hear Kip speaking softly to the mare. April bit back tears; the mustang must be so scared. April spotted her dad and the rest of the group gathered by the edge of the meadow. She hurried to them, feeling the chill bite into her cheeks as the wind hit her face, making her eyes water.

  “Dad...” she breathed. “Dad, there’s a mustang...in a bear trap...Kip roped her...She’s really hurt...”

  April’s dad looked towards where Kip was and nodded to Caleb. He ordered Hailey and Adam to stay put in the clearing, and then he and Caleb followed April into the forest. As the mustang appeared around the willows, Caleb swore under his breath.

  “What?” April muttered. “I told you there was a mustang.”

  “Her leg,” Caleb said through his teeth, obviously seeing the work they had ahead of them. “Boss...” he began.

  April’s dad shook his head. He looked at April.

  “Alright, you guys see that button on the right hand side of the jaws?”

  April squinted her eyes. They were too far away.

  Her dad nodded to Caleb. “Caleb, I need you to rope her, too, and then you boys put tension from either side, keeping her as still as possible.”

  “What are you gonna do?” April asked her dad.

  “I’m gonna step on the trap, to release it. Now she’s gonna try and bolt as soon as she’s free so you boys need to be ready.”

  “No way she’s gonna let you that close, boss. She’ll kill you before you take a step toward her.”

  “She’s not mean!” April defended the animal.

  “She’s wild!” Caleb countered. “She doesn’t have to be mean.”

  “She’s not wild,” April’s dad spoke up. “She’s freeze branded. I’d bet anything she’s one of Danny’s mares that got taken by the mustang herd a couple of years ago. You remember?” He looked at April.

  She nodded. “Yeah, four of them disappeared, right? Just before Danny passed away.”

  “Five. Two greys, a roan, a black and a bay. Once we get her to the ranch I’ll call Linda and see what she wants us to do with her. Should be able to confirm the brand then, too.”

  He nodded to Caleb, who moved forward, pulling his lasso loose from his saddle. Caleb and Kip were both very adept at roping, and before she knew it, the mare had a second loop around her neck. The boys backed up in different directions, holding the mare steady.

  “So she’s not a mustang?” April asked her dad.

  “Oh she’s a mustang alright,” her dad replied. “Danny got most of his breeding stock from that mustang truck that rolled through town at Christmas six years ago.”

  “Why would he want mustang breeding stock? Aren’t there enough of ‘em already?” Kip piped up, wrestling with Charger, who was getting antsy.

  “He was crossing them with his quarter horse stud, trying to breed the perfect working horse; at least that’s what the flier at the gas station said. It makes sense. But I always knew they would get snatched up some day. Mustangs have a funny way of finding their own kind,” he said, dismounting from his horse and handing the reins to April.

  “What makes sense?”

  “Breeding mustangs and quarter horses. Think about it; you get all the durability of the mustang blood, with the look and attitude of the quarter horses.”

  April nodded. “Like Chinook.”

  “Or you get a bull-headed hunk of muscle that wants to kill you...” Kip looked at April pointedly. “Also like Chinook.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, feeling her heart flutter at his joviality.

  Her dad stepped forward, slowly.

  “Easy girl,” he murmured. “You’re alright now. We’ll get ya out of this nasty thing.”

  The horse leaned away from him, locked in place by the trap attached to her leg and the ropes of the two cowboys. She eyed April’s dad suspiciously, waiting for him to move. When he didn’t, April could almost see the wheels in her head turning. She was thoroughly feral, after being in the wild with the mustangs for over two years. She was ready to fight for her life, April could see it.

  “Easy,” her dad said again.

  The trap chain was about six feet long, but the button was on the trap itself, forcing him to have to get within six inches of the angry horse. Stepping closer, he accidently touched the chain and the metal made a noise. The mare jumped, spinning her haunches towards him and tucking her tail tight into her buttocks.

  “Dad!” April said.

  Her dad backed up swiftly as the horse kicked out with both back feet, angry, terrified.

  “Dammit. Almost.”

  “Dad, you can’t! She’s not gonna let you get close again.”

  “I have to try!” Her dad silenced her with a look and April bit her tongue. She wanted to scream out, to stop him, because she could see the survival instinct in the mustang’s eyes and she knew she wasn’t going to let Simon Cooper approach.

  She kicked out again, her ears pinned flat to her head, sounding more like a wolf than a horse.

  April’s dad cursed.

  “Dad.” As he turned around, April continued, “Let me try.”

  He shook his head adamantly as Kip echoed him. “Absolutely not,” they said together.

  “She’ll see me as less of a threat. She’ll let me close.”

  Kip leaned forward on his horse. “Seriously, April, do you have a death wish? You’ve been putting yourself in unnecessary danger a lot lately.”

  April knew he was referring to her late night bareback ride. “Shut up, Kip,” she snapped.

  He gritted his teeth at her tenacity but stayed silent.

  April could see her dad was considering it and she didn’t give him a chance to deny her the opportunity. She dismounted Chinook and handed both reins to her dad. He looked shocked but let her walk slowly towards the mustang.

  The mustang pricked up her ears, watching April intently. She didn’t look frightened; she looked suspicious. April took another step.

  She began to sing quietly, the same song that calmed Chinook down. Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, she kept her chin down and made sure not to make eye contact with the horse. She was almost to the trap now, and with one final step, she was beside her. Leaning forward, careful not to spook the mustang, she picked up her foot and let it hover over the metal.

  “One hard stomp, April,” Kip murmured. “It’ll spook her but she’ll be free, and we can hold her.”

  “Then you run, April,” her dad said from behind her.

  April’s eyes were glued on the mustang. The horse’s nostrils were flared but her eyes were calm. April could see the intelligence in them. She continued with the last verse of her song and on the final word, stepped with all her weight onto the release of the trap. The jaws sprung open and the mare leapt into the air. She swung her hind end towards April and tucked her tail.

  “April! Run!” Kip shouted, waving his arm.

  April’s eyes were still glued on the mustang. She stumbled backwards a few steps, and then lost her footing on the icy ground. She felt her backside hit the snow and her eyes widened. She was now on the grou
nd in front of a feral mustang.

  And the horse was in pain, and angry.

  Kip and Caleb were shouting, trying to divert the mare’s attention but all April could hear was the sound of the animal’s breathing. She was just as afraid as April was. April could hear it in the labored catch of her deep sighs. She was tasting the air, waiting to see from which direction the next attack would come.

  “April, get up!” Her dad was shouting from behind her.

  “She’s just a horse,” April murmured. Then she repeated it louder. “She’s just a horse.”

  “A wild horse, April! Move!” Kip yelled, wrestling with Charger again.

  “She’s not wild. She’s scared. Look at her!”

  April held up her hands and the horse leaned away, ears back. She lowered them slightly and the ears flicked towards her again.

  “There,” she said, sighing. “Everything’s okay.”

  She glanced down at the mustang’s fetlock and held her breath. The blood was now flowing freely, covering her hoof in crimson ink.

  Looking back into the horse’s eyes, April could see the confusion.

  April smiled gently at the mare. “It’s okay.”

  The mustang had a willow branch tangled in her long, white mane. April wanted nothing more than to pull it free and watch the flow of pearl cascade over the magnificent animal’s shoulder.

  “Willow,” April murmured. “Her name is Willow.”

  She made eye contact with Kip and he looked away.

  “We need to get Willow home,” her dad said.

  Kip and Caleb moved away from April, urging the mare gently. She backed up enough for April to stand safely.

  Mounting Chinook, April looked over at her dad, feeling a smile appear on her face. It was the first time in months she had been truly ecstatic. They had saved a life.

  Pulling the reluctant mustang back to the ranch was a struggle. Kip and Caleb led the group, with April and her dad pushing the horse from behind. Hailey and Adam were on each side, stopping the mare from darting either way, and pulling a cowboy off their horse. This arrangement proved difficult in the narrow stretches of the trail, but soon the group was approaching Blue Haven, and April relaxed. She petted Chinook’s sweaty neck.