The Renegade

by Terri Farley

  “I’m sorry, Dad.” Sam saw Dallas slip out of the barn to give them privacy. “I didn’t mean to sound--” She shrugged. No word really fit.

  “It’s hard. I know.” Dad placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “And I’m sorry as I can be that your Phantom’s gone.”

  “You know what, though?” Sam felt suddenly excited. Now that Brynna was back, things might change for the better. “Dallas said I should get Brynna busy on this. Do you think it’s too early to call?”

  “She’ll be in her office by now.” Dad smiled, looking a little awkward. “Sam, about Brynna. We need to talk.”

  “I know. Me and my big mouth. Dad, I’m really sorry I was rude to her the other day, but I do trust her. I think she’s the only one who can help.”

  Dad took off his Stetson, smoothed his hair, then put his hat on again. “Go ahead and call her.”

  Brynna was at Willow Springs, but she took ten whole minutes to come to the phone.

  “Sam.” Brynna sounded exasperated when she finally picked up. “If it were anybody but you, I’d tell you to go fly a kite. I’m awfully busy with the Red Rock horses we had to bring in because of drought, and now there’s another twenty or so on their way--in bad shape from the flood.”

  “Gee, I’m sorry. If I can--“

  “So, what I’m saying, Sam”--Brynna’s tone was half impatience and half amusement--”is ‘spit it out, honey, or I’m going to hang up this dang phone.’”

  It wasn’t the encouragement Sam had hoped for, but she tried. “You got my message about the Phantom, right?”

  “I did. I feel awful.” Brynna paused before her brisk professional manner kicked in, full force. “But I must rule out natural causes--predators, injuries, and the like--before questioning Karla Starr.”

  “I already did that--ruled out other causes.”

  “No offense, Sam, but no, you have not. And it’s going to be a solid week before I can release rangers for that purpose. I’m sor--Just a minute.”

  Brynna muffled the mouthpiece, then returned. “Sam, I’ve got to go. If it’s possible, I’ll be out at River Bend tonight and we’ll talk more.” She paused as commotion continued in her office. “I may be late.”

  Dallas needed Sam’s help riding upstream. A big piece of bank had caved in, narrowing the river’s flow, and Sam spent most of the afternoon with a shovel.

  Only when she saw the baby blue Mercedes bumping across the bridge did she realize Rachel had come for her lesson even though school had been canceled.

  Sam didn’t allow herself to complain, even mentally. Gram was using her prize money for groceries and Dad had sold Banjo to cover the cost of the lost cattle. The least she could do was watch Rachel trot around in circles on Ace.

  Dallas saw the car and waved Sam toward home.

  “C’mon, Strawberry.” Sam urged the mare into a lope toward the house. “I’ll work on my blisters later on.”

  Sam figured she must have been too busy shoveling mud to see the Elys drop Jake off, but there he was, laughing and talking with Rachel.

  Sam drew rein and watched.

  Hopping around on his good leg, Jake had managed to saddle Teddy, and it looked as if Rachel had been mirroring his efforts with Ace. She sure didn’t laugh like that when Sam told her which strap went through which ring. And she’d never saddled up so fast.

  Okay, so Jake had been cooped up for a week. Even Rachel probably seemed like good company after that.

  Ace neighed a welcome, although Sam felt invisible to Jake.

  “Glad you made it back.” Jake frowned as if they’d had an agreement to meet at a certain time.

  As if he had so many important engagements to keep.

  But Sam didn’t say anything out loud. She wasn’t sure why, but it had something to do with Rachel.

  “Let me slip Stawberry’s bit out and let out her cinch.” Sam swung down and loosened things, so the mare would be more comfortable while she waited. Dallas had said they might have to go out again later.

  It was bad enough that Rachel wore perfect jeans and a pink blouse with little pearl studs, while Sam had mud caked on her shirt cuffs and probably in her hair.

  “Jake tells me he is going to act as master of the horse today.” Rachel batted her eyelashes at Jake.

  She really did.

  Sam wished Jen had been there to see it. And she couldn’t wait to tell her how Jake had put Rachel in her place. Except… Jake didn’t.

  Things got worse as the lesson progressed.

  “Good job taking him through the barrels at a walk, Rachel. Now try lifting his head a little. No, it’s not your fault. He’s just being lazy.”

  Lazy? Ace? But when Sam would have said something, Jake waved a hand her way.

  “Keep Teddy back a little.”

  No please. No thank you. Just do it, and Jake made no mention of her superb handling of Teddy, a half-trained colt.

  “Jog now,” Jake ordered.

  Where did he think he was, in a show ring?

  “Rachel, you’ll need to sit down right in the saddle. That’s it.” Jake leaned against his crutch, smiling.

  “No posting in Western, Rachel. I know it’s a little uncomfortable at first, but your seat needs to be right in the saddle.”

  “Rachel’s already ridden Ace at a trot,” Sam pointed out.

  “That’s right, I have.” Rachel repositioned herself with a thump. Ace braked to a stop and Rachel fell off.

  Sam wasn’t sure how it happened, but Ace didn’t walk off, and Rachel didn’t stand up, so Sam dismounted and went to her.

  “Why did you do that?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, shut up.” Rachel’s British accent had never sounded so lofty. She took a quick glance at Jake, then lowered her voice. “You think you’re so smart about horses. Well, why didn’t you brand that stallion if he was yours“

  Sam stood speechless for a minute. Rachel had to be talking about the Phantom, but why?

  “I wanted him wild,” Sam snapped, even before she could question Rachel’s sudden change in topic.

  “Well, if you wanted him at all, you should have bloody well done it.”

  “Ladies?” Jake called. “How ‘bout another ride along the rail, then reverse and …”

  If the baby blue Mercedes had been bringing serum for a fatal disease, Sam couldn’t have been happier to see it. She only wished Mrs. Coley would take Jake away, too.

  Alone, Sam unsaddled all three horses and brushed them. Before putting Ace away, she checked his feet and found a pebble in his off hind hoof. Of course Rachel wouldn’t have noticed.

  Sam had put Ace in his corral and was leading Teddy and Strawberry out to the ten-acre pasture when Jake finally fell in beside her. She slowed down a little so he could keep up.

  She turned both horses out and watched them run. With manes and tails lifting on the late-afternoon wind, they were so beautiful, Sam wanted to cry. Instead, she turned on Jake.

  “You don’t even like Rachel!” she snapped.

  Jake gave a self-satisfied smile.

  “You’re only nice to her because she’s cute!”

  His smile got a little broader.

  “And I’ll tell you, Jake Ely, one more clever remark about her seat and I would have lost my lunch!”

  Jake was trying not to laugh, but he failed. Sam socked him in the arm.

  “Ow,” he said, and laughed harder.

  She stared at him, hoping he’d be embarrassed once he got over being so terribly amused.

  “You’re right. I don’t like her.” Jake rubbed his arm. “I’m only nice to her because she’s paying you money, and for crying out loud, do you just ignore her posting?”

  If she hadn’t heard Mrs. Ely’s car coming across the bridge, Sam might have hit him again. For making sense.

  Jealousy and Rachel’s slashing remarks about the Phantom came together into something dark and mean inside Sam.

  “I’m not speaking to you anymore, Jake Ely. Find someone el
se to make fun of, okay?”

  She turned and walked toward the house.

  “Oh, Brat, come back here.”

  Sam lengthened her stride. She held her head up as if a string ran straight up to the stars pricking through the dusky sky.

  It felt good to pay him back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brynna came for dinner and stayed too long. Sam was in no mood to watch her and Dad give each other slow, meaningful smiles. Gram must have noticed Sam’s irritation, because she asked if Sam wouldn’t like to take her dessert upstairs and finish her homework.

  Just perfect, Sam thought. Her algebra homework was as baffling as this entire day. She was concentrating so hard, she didn’t even hear the phone ring.

  Dad came upstairs to tell her, “That was Jake on the phone.”

  Sam almost snapped that she wasn’t speaking to Jake Ely. Ever again. But Dad’s formal tone stopped her.

  “It was?”

  “Yeah.” Dad stared at a glass horse on one of her shelves. She’d bought him when she was ten, because he looked like Blackie. “Honey, he has a videotape he thinks we all should see.”

  Sam had never left for a neighbor’s house this late. Driving through the darkness on a school night might have been fun, except that Brynna was explaining while Dad drove.

  “The Elys get the sports channel on their big satellite dish, Sam. Apparently they taped a weekend rodeo wrap-up that included all kinds of highlights, even from dinky little rodeos.”

  Brynna waited for Sam’s brain to brace for what was coming. Finally, she understood.

  “Oh no.” Sam wanted to cover her ears. “No.” She wanted to tell Brynna to stop.

  “I’m reserving judgment until I see the tape, but Jake has a good eye for horses, and he thinks, well, that there’s something that needs investigation.”

  “Enough,” Dad said. “We’re here.”

  Once, Sam had been to a gathering after a funeral. Sober-faced ranch families had gathered in a living room. They’d balanced plates of food on their knees, but otherwise it had felt just like this.

  All the Ely boys sat straight-backed on chairs and couches. They nodded at Sam. A big wooden bowl filled with popcorn sat, forgotten, as they faced the blank TV set.

  Mrs. Ely gave Sam a one-armed hug. Jake’s dad, Luke, watched her as if he was afraid she might stumble and break into a million pieces. Of course she didn’t stumble, or break anything. Unless her heart counted.

  First the tape showed clips of a bucking bull spinning until it staggered with dizziness. It showed a calf roper sail over his horse’s head and outdistance the running calf.

  Those were supposed to be funny, but Sam was so busy lacing her fingers together, to keep them from shaking, that she barely heard the TV announcer’s lead-in to the next clip. He said something, she thought, about a young man who’d been injured in a college rodeo.

  “This is it,” Jake said. “The wild horse race.”

  Sam wouldn’t need a videotape to remember the Phantom’s eyes. The photographer had shot from an odd angle, but the stallion’s brown mustang eyes, frightened and accusing, stabbed right through her.

  And then the camera pulled back. The Phantom was rearing, reaching for the sky, and the rider was falling. A rider. Someone--that boy, that stupid, stupid boy--had been on the Phantom’s back. Once the boy fell, the Phantom came back to earth.

  It made sense. He’d dislodged the attacker.

  Except that the boy wouldn’t give in. He made a grab for the Phantom’s tail, and caught it.

  Sam heard a gasp, but she didn’t look away from the screen. The Phantom whirled. Mouth agape, he grabbed the boy by the shoulder like he would a misbehaving colt, and shook him.

  They’ll kill my horse, Sam thought. After that, they must have shot him.

  Sam felt Dad standing beside her as the screen was filled with the face of Karla Starr. Suddenly, Sam knew that the Phantom was more valuable than ever before.

  “Starr Productions regrets the injury to Ben Miller.” Karla Starr wore thick eye makeup and red lipstick. Fair flags flapped behind her, but her hair didn’t move, and Sam remembered what Jen’s mom had said about rodeo queens and hair spray. “We deny any accusations that the Renegade is a man-eater. Such things don’t exist in the horse world.”

  Karla Starr moved closer to the microphone and turned steely-eyed. “Rodeo fans can rest assured that when Renegade appears in next Friday’s wild horse race, we will prevent such an accident from occurring again.”

  “Where? Where?” Brynna shouted at the television. “Sorry,” she said, then threw her French braid over her shoulder and rubbed her palms together before looking at Jake.

  “We’ve played it over and over, Ms. Olson. They don’t say.”

  Sam let Brynna talk to Jake and Nate. She let her consult with Jake’s father, who’d spread their coffee table with schedules and charts. He’d already been on the Internet and had Karla Starr’s next move narrowed down to five West Coast rodeos.

  Sam couldn’t stop seeing the Phantom’s outrage. The boy had climbed on his back, then grabbed his tail. The stallion was a king in his world. He should never be treated like this.

  “Wait.” Gram spoke for the first time. “Why don’t you just go to her ranch?”

  “We will. Tomorrow, first thing.” But Brynna was shaking her head even as she said it. “If she has any sense at all, and I’m afraid she does, she won’t be there. Or the horse won’t.

  “We’re talking about a federal crime. I don’t think she’d hand herself and the stallion to us on a silver platter.”

  Sam woke the next morning, feeling like her head carried an invisible metal helmet. She wanted to stay home from school, but Dad and Gram said no. It was already Tuesday, they reasoned. In just four days, Karla Starr could be trapped--if she was greedier than she was careful.

  It would be better, Gram said, if Sam thought about something else. Like school.

  But how could she?

  Before facing a breakfast she didn’t want, Sam fed the hens. How quickly they’d gotten over the loss of the cottonwood tree. Last week, half their world had turned upside down, and they didn’t even remember.

  Sam wasn’t so lucky. She made it through her morning classes. At lunch, she told a shocked Jen what had happened. But when Mr. Blair gave the journalism class a current events quiz, Sam knew she’d flunked. He’d included no questions about drowned cattle, suffering horses, or people who’d do anything for money.

  At home, Sam had a message to call Brynna.

  “She’s not stupid.” Sam could hear Brynna tapping a pencil on her desk at Willow Springs. “Her ranch is in good order and she’s got bills of sale on every animal there.”

  “So, she has him someplace else,” Sam said dully. She hoped the Phantom couldn’t wonder why this was happening to him.

  “Apparently,” Brynna said. “We didn’t tell her we’d come looking for him. In fact, my ranger just went along with a Humane Society official, as if it were a routine inspection. That way, she may let her guard down and not hide him at the rodeo.”

  “Do you know which one yet?”

  “We’re still working on that.”

  “I want to go with you,” Sam insisted.

  “Sam, I’ll be working.”

  “If you find him, he’ll--Nobody will be able to handle him except me.” Sam heard the begging in her own voice, but only part of it was aimed at getting to go. The rest was hope that the Phantom would still love her enough to let her near him.

  “I’ll talk to your dad,” Brynna said finally, and Sam knew that was the best she could hope for.

  The Cimmaron County Fair had a great carnival. From miles away, Sam and Brynna saw the neon lights marking the spokes on a Ferris wheel and the swoops of a roller coaster.

  As they left the BLM truck in the parking lot, they could already smell hot dogs and funnel cakes and hear the happy shrieks of children on thrill rides.

  Brynna carrie
d a small radio she called a “handheld,” and she wore a pale blue shirt with jeans. Even out of uniform, she looked official as she surveyed the fairgrounds.

  “If we get separated,” she told Sam, “this is the midway, there’s the exhibit hall, and over there, on the other side of it, are the grandstand and arena. Rodeo security has an office over there.”

  “I’m not a little kid. I won’t wander off.” Sam tried not to sound impatient, but Brynna was taking this standing-in-for-Dad responsibility way too seriously. Then again, maybe they were both nervous.

  BLM still hadn’t found the Phantom. Karla Starr had been contracted to supply stock for the small Cimmaron rodeo, but neither she nor the horse she’d called Renegade had been spotted, so rangers had spread out through three states to watch for the stolen silver stallion.

  Brynna was working with local law enforcement, and she really didn’t want Sam around during her meetings.

  “How ‘bout if I buy you dinner?” Brynna looked at the watch she’d actually insisted Sam synchronize to hers. “I’ve got ten minutes before my meeting, twenty until the grand entry, and another hour or so until the wild horse race. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Sam was scanning the throngs of kids clutching strands of ride tickets. She spotted a familiar face.

  Darrell wore a yellow jersey, a backward hat, baggy pants that showed his boxer shorts, and a kid attached to one hand. His irritated expression lifted a little when he saw her.

  “Hey, Sam, is Jake with you?”

  “No, I’m here with--” Sam caught Brynna’s frown. Probably she didn’t want Sam to be too specific, but Sam knew she was an awful liar. “With my, uh, aunt.”

  “What a coincidence, I’m here with my cousin.” Darrell held up the hand locked to a freckled boy with untied shoes.

  “I wanna go on the Mad Mouse,” the child, informed Sam.

  “That’s nice.” Sam took a step back. She had on her favorite red blouse, and Darren’s cousin was sticky with what probably had been cotton candy.

  “And how old are you?” Brynna asked, but her eyes were sweeping Darrell with disapproval.