Rain Dance
Phantom Stallion 12
Rain Dance
Terri Farley
Contents
Chapter One
“Happy birthday to me,” Samantha Forster sang as she swept…
Chapter Two
Chills rained down Sam’s neck and arms, but she tightened…
Chapter Three
Sam looked up from the miniature halter. Framed with lines…
Chapter Four
Sam watched her friends drive away. She wouldn’t see them…
Chapter Five
“Sam, get up.” Brynna’s voice cut through Sam’s dream.
Chapter Six
Dad and the cowboys hadn’t left her very many chores,…
Chapter Seven
We have a problem.
Chapter Eight
With a whinny that came out as a squeak, the…
Chapter Nine
The ranch house kitchen was dark and still.
Chapter Ten
“Darned if you’re not floppy as a neck-wrung rooster,” chuckled…
Chapter Eleven
Sam had fed all the horses, refilled their water troughs,…
Chapter Twelve
No monsters came at midnight.
Chapter Thirteen
Sam gripped the cell phone more tightly, took a deep…
Chapter Fourteen
It wasn’t easy keeping a secret that felt like it…
Chapter Fifteen
Rachel Slocum swung her legs out of the passenger seat…
Chapter Sixteen
Tempest was safe, but she was also alone.
Chapter Seventeen
Sam couldn’t believe there’d been so much milk in the…
About the Author
Other Books by Terri Farley
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter One
“Happy birthday to me,” Samantha Forster sang as she swept the last bit of straw from the big box stall. “Happy birthday to me….”
She set the broom aside with a sigh and picked up the tool Dad had designated a floor scraper.
Summer vacation had started yesterday, today was her birthday, and what was she doing? Working harder than she would have been at school, that was for sure. Even in P.E. she didn’t sweat like this.
Not that she felt sorry for herself.
Gram was in the kitchen preparing tonight’s birthday dinner, to which Jake and Jen, her best friends, were invited. There would definitely be presents and curiosity was fizzing inside her.
No, she didn’t feel sorry for herself, just sort of disgruntled. And it was all her stepmother’s fault. Brynna was to blame.
Sam wiped her brow with the back of her wrist. The stall looked cleaner than it ever had, but for Dark Sunshine to foal here, it must be spotless. Sam kneeled and kept working. She’d do anything for the horses of River Bend Ranch.
Or any horses, she thought, as she chipped at a stubborn clump of dirt. But she was giving this chore special care because this stall would be the birthplace of the Phantom’s foal.
Luckily, Dad and Dallas, the ranch foreman, had done the hard part by adding wooden partitions to her calf Buddy’s open stall to create a place perfect for foaling.
It had only been empty for a few days. After she’d turned Buddy free to live with the other cattle, a sweet yellow calf she’d named Daisy had lived in the stall.
But then Daisy had gotten a new mother.
In late spring, new colts and calves were all over the range, but one young cow wearing a River Bend brand had given birth to a stillborn calf. Seeing this, Dad had galloped back to the ranch, gathered up Daisy, and taken her to the confused cow, who’d adopted Daisy at once.
It was the happiest possible ending, Sam told herself.
She would have been satisfied and happy if Brynna hadn’t been forcing her to make an impossible decision.
She could either go on the annual spring cattle drive—where she’d ride all day, eat wonderful chuck wagon meals, listen to stories around the campfire, and sleep under the stars—or stay home and keep Dark Sunshine company as she gave birth.
A clamor of neighs came from outside, underlining the fact that everyone was going on the cattle drive first thing the next morning. Dad and the cowboys were loading horses, getting ready to truck them out onto the range. She’d already hugged Ace, her frisky bay gelding, good-bye. He was a top cow horse and he’d go on the drive without her if she decided to stay with Dark Sunshine.
Sam stood and wiped her palms on her jeans. The stall floor looked cleaner than her bedroom carpet. The chore hadn’t taken that long. She had time to exercise Dark Sunshine before the day got any hotter.
Sam ducked into the tack room and grabbed Sunny’s green nylon halter. As she came out, she heard footsteps approaching. They must be Gram’s, since Brynna was at work at Willow Springs Wild Horse Center and the sound of tires clunking over the bridge said Dad and the cowboys had left with most of the horses.
Sam waited, eager to take credit for her hard work.
“My, my,” Gram said, hands on the hips of her denim skirt as she stood silhouetted in the barn door. “Never thought I’d see the day Wyatt would go to such trouble for a mustang.”
Sam loved wild horses, so Gram’s words grated, but they were true.
Above all, Dad was a cattleman. He resented anything that threatened or competed with his red and white Hereford cattle. That included wild horses, which sometimes grazed on the same grass the cows needed to eat.
Dad admitted wild horses could be smart and beautiful, even useful once they’d been trained to saddle. But cattle earned the money to keep River Bend Ranch running. They came first.
“And it’s nice and clean, isn’t it?” Sam nudged her Gram for a compliment.
“Sure is,” Gram said as she touched the barn wall, noticing Dad had filled the gaps between boards, so there wouldn’t be breezes to chill the new foal. “Look at that overhead lighting. We’ll be able to watch the mare every minute.” Gram glanced up at the fluorescent lights among the rafters. “And Brynna’s supposed to bring a load of wheat straw for bedding tonight, isn’t she?”
Sam admitted she was. The best thing about her stepmother was that she loved wild horses, too.
“All for a mustang.” Gram shook her head in amazement.
Sam didn’t say it, but she was pretty sure Dad had done all this work for her, too.
Hoping it was a sign of good things to come, she crossed her fingers, then her thumbs. Though Dad hadn’t promised, she thought he’d let her keep this foal to replace Blackie, the colt who’d run away to become the Phantom.
But what if Dad had done all this work for Brynna?
“What is causing that frown?” Gram asked, rubbing a finger between Sam’s eyebrows.
Sam couldn’t help smiling. Gram had the magic touch. Not only that, her hand smelled like pie dough. Instead of a birthday cake, Sam had asked for a strawberry pie and Gram had made it with the tiny red garden berries she’d been guarding from the robins.
“I’d think you’d be a pretty happy girl today,” Gram said, not quite scolding.
“I am,” Sam said, but when Gram raised her eyebrows, she added, “Gram, I don’t know why Brynna can’t just go along with my plan.”
“Well, honey,” Gram began, trying to hide her smile, “I imagine she doesn’t want to. It’s always surprising, isn’t it, when people turn out to have minds of their own?”
Sam grumbled as she walked, almost in step, with Gram. The level stretch of dirt glared white in the midday sun. From the barn, it reached to the ranch house, with the ten-acre pasture on one side and the barn corral and round pen on the other.
“But it’s the perfect solution,” Sam protested. “Brynna’s going to work every day anyway. She could just pick me up wherever we made camp each evening, then drive me home to the ranch. Dad says most mares foal at night, so I could sleep in the barn and be with Dark Sunshine. Then, on her way to work in the morning, Brynna could just drop me off again.”
“She wants to join the drive after work,” Gram pointed out. “She’s never been on a cattle drive and neither has Penny. Admit it, dear, if Penny were yours, you’d want to see how she did on the trail.”
Sam gave a grudging nod. Brynna’s blind mustang mare was well schooled and willing. She followed her rider’s cues instantly. It would be fascinating to see if she responded as well amid the distractions of a cattle drive.
“Now that she’s part of the family,” Gram went on, “Brynna wants to be part of the fun, too.”
“Maybe she can’t have everything,” Sam muttered.
“I think that’s her point,” Gram said.
It was totally clear to Sam that, as usual, the one who didn’t get what she wanted was her.
Sam set her jaw and considered not speaking to Brynna when she got home tonight. Maybe that would bring her around.
“Samantha, this is just a tempest in a teapot. Let it go,” Gram said.
“I’m not even sure what that means,” Sam admitted, hands on her hips.
“A tempest is a storm, dear. The saying sort of means lots of noise and excitement in one little place or, in this case, on one day. This time next year, you won’t remember how mad Brynna made you,” Gram said, shaking her head.
Gram might be right. She usually was. But if Brynna would just go along with her plan, things would be much easier.
“We don’t need another stubborn person in this family,” Sam
insisted, and this time Gram didn’t try to hide her amusement. She laughed out loud.
Sam’s path parted from Gram’s as she walked toward the ten-acre corral. All but four horses had been trucked away, and three of those left behind neighed frantically and rushed from fence to fence in the open pasture.
Popcorn, the albino mustang, seemed the most agitated, but the two older horses, Amigo and Sweetheart, were alarmed, too. Even tame horses depended on their herd for security. When their herd was split up, they feared the change meant trouble.
Only one of the pastured horses wasn’t running. The buckskin tossed her head, swinging her glossy black mane and forelock in agitation, but Dark Sunshine didn’t run.
Heavy with foal, she leaned against the fence, resting one tawny hip there to take some weight off her slender, black-shaded legs.
According to the vet, Sunny had gained over a hundred pounds. Her delicate, dished head looked out of proportion to her belly. Sam hoped the foal’s birth date was near.
Sam opened the pasture gate and slipped inside. Amigo and Sweetheart rushed to her. Popcorn followed a few steps behind. All of them snuffled with flared nostrils, checking to see if Sam was carrying grain. When they discovered she wasn’t, they backed away, eyes rolling wildly as if only food could have taken their minds off their missing friends.
“Sorry to let you down,” she said, and kept walking.
At first, Dark Sunshine watched her approach, then swiveled her head and pricked her ears toward the Calico Mountains.
The buckskin stared, unblinking, then stamped once. She listened intently, as if she heard wild horses calling.
Sam clucked at the mare. Sunny turned one ear in Sam’s direction, but her attention stayed on the mountains.
Sam scuffed her boot on the dirt, but the mare did nothing. Sam lifted the halter so that the buckle jingled and finally she had the mare’s attention.
“We’ve got to work together on this, Sunny.” Sam kept walking as she talked to the buckskin. “You’ve been here almost a year. The Phantom—” Sam bit her lip.
Even though Sunny wouldn’t understand, she couldn’t bring herself to tell the mare that the stallion had probably forgotten her.
Sam stopped a few steps from the mare. She stood close enough to touch her, but she only waggled the halter and lead rope again.
Sunny raised her head and focused her serious brown eyes on Sam.
“There’s a lot better chance of keeping your baby right here, where you can watch him grow up, if he’s sweet and tame.” Holding her breath, Sam placed her hand flat on the mare’s shoulder.
The mare tolerated the touch without twitching her skin or shrinking away. That was good. Even though she’d worked with the mare almost every day, Sam still wasn’t sure how the buckskin felt.
She knew how Ace felt. He considered her a kindly boss, who made his life easier with food and shade, but made him work for it. Once in a while, though, when she treated him as a pet, Ace treated her as his simpleminded friend. That’s when he forgot how to be ground-tied or surprised her with a buck.
The Phantom considered her his equal. She’d never tell anyone that, especially Jake or Dad. Both insisted only a fool would allow a dangerous animal to think for himself instead of being ruled by humans.
“But you, Sunny,” she crooned to the mare, “have no bad habits whatsoever. So you can’t possibly teach your baby to misbehave, right?”
With the halter buckle in her left hand and the green strap in her right, Sam slipped the noseband on the mare. She swung the loose end over the far side of Sunny’s head, behind her ears, and buckled the halter snugly.
Sam let out her breath in a rush, but she didn’t feel satisfied.
Sunny’s attention was still focused on the far mountains. Did she sense it was the time of year the Phantom would need a lead mare?
Even Sam didn’t know if the stallion was still ruling his herd alone.
Queen, the red dun who’d guided his herd, had been injured and taken off the range for her own protection. A second mare who’d bid for the top position had died when she’d drunk water tainted with naturally occurring poison.
Star, the pinto mare Jake had caught, gentled then set free on tribal lands, seemed too young for the job, but Sam had seen them running together once.
In summer, when wild stallions tried to build up their harems by stealing from other bands, lead mares were vital. They searched out good grazing and took command of the herd when the stallions were in battle.
But Dark Sunshine couldn’t be the Phantom’s lead mare. Not only did she wear a BLM brand, but in a few weeks she’d become part of the Horse and Rider Protection program.
HARP helped mustangs that had been adopted by people who had failed at gentling and training them. When those mistakes damaged the horses, HARP took the mustangs back and matched them with at-risk girls. Together, the girls and horses started over.
Last summer, River Bend Ranch had piloted the HARP program for northern Nevada. Though Sam had been dubious at first, HARP had worked well for Popcorn and Mikki, the former runaway who’d been paired with him.
Sunny had been too traumatized by her first owners to be part of the HARP program then, but this summer, Sam hoped the mare would benefit from it.
“Don’t keep looking up there, girl,” Sam chided the mare, but she didn’t explain that the worst thing that could happen would be if Dark Sunshine escaped, only to be recaptured. It would be awful if she lost her freedom twice.
Sam jiggled the lead rope. Sunny shook her head as if wakened from sleep. Then, she lowered her head and nudged Sam’s shoulder affectionately.
It wasn’t much, but it made Sam grin.
“All right. That’s better. Let’s go for a walk, pretty girl.”
As they left the pasture, a fresh breeze cooled them both and Sunny turned her attention from the mountains. She clopped beside Sam, keeping an eye on Blaze, the ranch dog that sat on the front porch. She watched the fluttering sleeve of a sweatshirt Sam had draped over the hitching rail earlier in the day, too, but she seemed alert for something else.
Suddenly a faint neigh came from far away. This time Sam heard it, too.
Chapter Two
Chills rained down Sam’s neck and arms, but she tightened her grip on the lead rope.
As Sunny answered the neigh, her body vibrated and her weight shifted between her front hooves.
It couldn’t be him, Sam thought.
Sunny pawed three times, and dirt pelted Sam’s jeans. She braced her legs apart, standing firm in case the mare bolted. She’d seen too many horses break loose and run for the range not to be prepared.
“Sunny. Sunny girl.”
The mare’s ears pointed toward La Charla and the wild side of the river.
“You can’t go back, girl,” Sam told the mare. “Just let yourself be happy here, okay?”
An engine roared from the highway. It slowed and downshifted. Sam didn’t recognize it by sound and it was a bad time to be distracted.
So, instead of standing on tiptoe to see, Sam walked in the opposite direction.
“Let’s check out your new pasture,” she invited Sunny.
The small pasture off the barn had been double-fenced for safety. Dad had stapled wire mesh over the wooden rails. The mesh went down to the ground so not even the tiniest, most determined foal could scoot underneath and get in trouble.
“We’re moving you over here tonight, Sunny. Won’t this be great?”
The mare wasn’t listening to her. She was distracted by the sound of the approaching vehicle. Sam hoped it wasn’t Mrs. Allen, who drove like a crazy woman, or Linc Slocum, who thought about nothing but himself.
Slow down, Sam ordered herself. Walk. Every pulse of worry would telegraph up the halter rope to the mustang’s sensitive head.
Against her will, Sam imagined Dark Sunshine scared and rearing. What if she wrenched her neck, or slipped and fell? With only days until she was due to foal, Sunny couldn’t be allowed to panic and struggle. It could endanger her baby.