Kidnapped Colt Page 13

  Brynna had insisted there was no way BLM would finance a special gather to capture a tame horse gone astray.

  We can’t be running mustangs with a helicopter just because Linc Slocum wants us to, Brynna had said. In fact, if it turns out the horse was freed intentionally to run with the wild ones, Linc may have some penalties to pay.

  Sam sighed, and Blaze, dozing next to her, opened his eyes to give her hand a lick.

  The silver ripples seemed to melt and coat the entire river. Sam blinked, trying to stay awake.

  Shy Boots was still lost. More than anything Sam wanted to find him. She had to think. She had to make a plan. But maybe she’d close her eyes for just a minute.

  In Sam’s dream, she rode the Phantom in a game they’d never played before. Three silk scarves were hidden in the desert and she had to find them.

  Riding the stallion bareback, she galloped over bone-white alkali flats, hand shading her eyes against a golden glare.

  An emerald-green scarf fluttered from a sagebrush. Holding a handful of the Phantom’s mane in one hand, Sam leaned over to snag the scarf with her fingers.

  Pink and orange like the dawn sky, the second scarf blew on the wind. Sam only had to sit straight astride the stallion for the strip of silk to twine around her brow and remain there, blowing behind as if she, too, had a mane.

  The Phantom’s slender legs raced miles across the desert, slanting as she searched north and south, east and west; but the last scarf could not be found.

  A mirage of yellow shimmered on the horizon. As she and the Phantom drew closer, a figure waved from inside it.

  “He knows where it is,” she told the Phantom, but the stallion swerved, refusing to go closer, and Sam was falling…

  Her cheek hit the wooden deck of the bridge, and she woke up.

  “Ow!” she said, mostly to Blaze. “Of course it couldn’t be the cheek that was already hurt,” she said, rubbing her face.

  The Border collie panted and cocked his head to one side, looking a little worried.

  “I’m okay,” she said, rising stiffly to her knees, and then to her bare feet. “And I think I’m finally ready for bed.”

  The HARP girls’ riding lessons progressed faster than expected. By Thursday, Gina could catch Popcorn, groom him, tack him up, and ride him around the round pen alone. Mikki rode Popcorn at a walk, jog, and lope, and Dark Sunshine had eaten a sugar cube from her hand.

  But the hunt for the horse thief had fizzled, and Ryan still hadn’t returned Sam’s calls.

  With only two days left of the HARP session, the summer heat closed around them like a fist.

  The next day was the Fourth of July, but with no clues about Shy Boots’s or Karl Mannix’s whereabouts, and no breezes to cool them, it was hard to look forward to a day spent in the relentless sun.

  At midmorning, Gina and Mikki were playing follow-the-leader again when lightning crackled across the sky, then rain pelted down.

  For an hour, they tried riding in yellow slickers, but Penny bucked at the strange sound, and Popcorn balked. No matter how Gina urged him on, the albino hung his head and let raindrops drip from his white nose.

  As they stripped the tack from the horses and turned them out, Jake didn’t quit. He swung into Witch’s saddle.

  “What’s he doing?” Jen asked, using wet fingers to polish the fog from her glasses.

  Sam stared at Jake. Dressed in a dark slicker and Stetson, Jake ignored the downpour. He jogged Witch through a figure eight, slid her to a stop, then asked her to reverse the pattern.

  “Sometimes even I can’t figure him out,” Sam said, but she was remembering Jake’s accident last autumn.

  The horse who’d slipped in the mud and crushed Jake’s leg had been young, but the accident could have happened to any horse. She’d bet Jake was giving Witch a little extra schooling. The next time he had to gallop her in the mud, Witch would be ready.

  Sam realized she was watching a major difference between Ryan and Jake. Ryan tried to buy his way out of trouble, but Jake prepared to stand up against it.

  “Tell me about the desert, again?” Gina asked Sam, as they carried the saddles back to the tack room.

  “I already said it wasn’t like the Sahara,” Sam grumbled. “But this doesn’t usually happen until August.”

  “I guess we can work on the computer some more,” Mikki said. “Brynna left it home again.”

  “Not me,” Gina said, looking back toward the middle of the ranch yard. “I’m staying outside.”

  “What for?” Mikki asked. Looking down at her boots, she tried to avoid quickly filling puddles. “Are you going swimming?”

  But Sam followed Gina’s gaze to Jake.

  “Jake brought a baseball,” Gina said offhandedly. “He said he’d throw it around with me.”

  “In this?” Mikki said. “You’re crazy.”

  “I was starting pitcher for my team before I quit, and I was never rained out.” Sniffing and shrugging, she added, “Maybe the coach will take me back.”

  Sam bit back the encouragement she wanted to offer. It might have the opposite effect, and Gina was doing fine on her own.

  The kitchen was warm. When she saw Blaze lying on the floor in front of the stove, Sam tried to remember her dream.

  “Can’t get him to go outside, and he’s not easy to work around,” Gram said, shaking her head.

  Sam stared at Blaze, and suddenly she remembered the very end of her dream. Something yellow had come toward her and the answer to some question was inside.

  “I hope you girls have worked up an appetite. The power’s been flickering,” Gram said, looking up at the kitchen lights overhead, “so I’m going to make an early lunch.”

  The fireplace roared with golden flames. Sam warmed herself in front of it, staring toward Brynna’s laptop, which sat alone, left on a chair beyond the fire’s warmth.

  “Want to go first?” Sam asked Jen, nodding at the computer.

  “No, it’s not even charged up. You’ll have to plug it in over there.” Jen motioned toward the far chair.

  “I’ve had it with the Internet,” Jen said, as she and Mikki set up a board game on the living room’s big coffee table.

  “Maybe he’s laying low for a little while,” Mikki said. “That’s what a smart thief would do.”

  “Oxymoron,” Jen muttered.

  “Who’s a moron?” Mikki snapped.

  “No, ‘smart thief’ is an oxymoron,” Jen explained as she searched in the game box for directions. “An oxymoron is a seeming contradiction”—Mikki shot Sam a despairing glance as Jen went on—“like, you can’t be smart and be a thief, because thieves go to jail, and who—”

  “Let’s just play the game,” Mikki said.

  After polishing the rain streaks from her glasses, Jen agreed.

  Sam crawled on the rug to plug in the little computer, then sat in the corner chair, shivering at first, then getting more and more absorbed in her search.

  Once, she glanced out the window, hoping Hotspot and Shy Boots were both someplace safe and warm. Then she returned to her research with stronger determination.

  She heard Gram call out the kitchen door for Jake and Gina to come in for lunch. She heard Mikki’s delight over the menu of grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, but everything seemed to be far away. Sam kept pecking at the keyboard until Gina burst into the living room.

  “I’ve got it!” Gina shouted.

  Blaze barked and frolicked around Gina as she shed her wet slicker and motioned for Sam to give over the laptop.

  “I thought of something we haven’t tried.”

  Sam stood beside Gina as she attacked the little laptop.

  “Blaze, I like you, too, but get away,” Gina said, elbowing the Border collie’s inquiring muzzle.

  “I think he likes you because you smell like a wet dog,” Sam joked.

  “Ha ha,” Gina said absently. “There. Remember on preview night at the carnival, how that lady said she o
nly bought animals from reputable dealers? Well that must mean there are bad ones, right?”

  As Gina’s fingers tapped away, Sam remembered thinking the same thing herself.

  “So, we’re gonna search…” Gina’s voice trailed off. “There’s Patty’s Pronto Petting Zoo. That’s the lady we talked to, right? Wanna look? Oh, she posts next-day pictures from events she takes the animals to….”

  Sam sighed. For a minute, she’d hoped Gina really did have a great idea. Something obvious they’d missed. Now, she gazed at the website’s photos, disheartened.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think pictures of goats at Jamie Smith’s fifth birthday party are really—wait! Gina, go back!”

  Chills cascaded down Sam’s arms. Had she really seen what she thought she had?

  “Yeah, you’re liking that site now that you saw some horses,” Gina joked, “but Patty’s okay. I’ll search for—”

  “No! You have to go back!” Sam said. “In the background, I think I saw—I’m sure I saw Shy Boots.”

  Gina looked up, staring at Sam with rounded eyes.

  “Hurry,” Sam whispered.

  Gina looked down, shaking her head.

  “Probably it wasn’t him,” she murmured. “Patty seemed so nice.”

  “There.” Sam knelt beside Gina as the computer image materialized with infuriating slowness.

  “Are you sure?” Gina asked. “It’s kind of hard to see.”

  “Jen! Gram!” Sam shouted to be heard above the thunderclap. “Come in here, quick!”

  “We’re losing it!” Gina moaned.

  The living room went black, except for the crackling fireplace.

  “Mercy, Samantha,” Gram said as the kitchen door swung open. “It’s just a power failure, nothing to scream about.”

  Against her best judgment, Sheriff Ballard’s secretary patched Gram through to the sheriff at the fairgrounds.

  “I certainly hope you saw what you think you did,” Gram said, covering the mouthpiece while she waited.

  “We did, Gram. Right?” Sam looked at the other girls. They all hesitated except Gina, who gave a slight nod. “Well, I saw him. Cross my heart,” Sam crisscrossed a finger over her chest to underscore her certainty.

  “Hello?” Gram said into the phone. “Heck, this is Grace Forster, and I know how busy you are. Pickpockets? In Darton County?” Gram shook her head. “I can hardly credit that, but I sure wouldn’t want your job. At any rate, it’s about that Appaloosa colt.”

  Sam watched Gram’s eyebrows climb her forehead.

  “Yes, it’s just that—” Gram broke off, listening.

  “Try, Gram!” Sam urged her.

  Rolling her eyes like a teenager, Gram plunged into the conversation one more time.

  “Of course, Heck, but it seems the colt will be there at the fairgrounds tomorrow at the petting zoo.”

  Sam realized she and the other three girls were crowded shoulder to shoulder. In the flickering glow from the candle Gram had lit after the power failure, with their rain-bedraggled hair, they looked a little like witches.

  Finally, Gram sighed.

  “I understand. Of course. You have your hands full with people who want your help. Thanks again, Sheriff.” Gram nodded and glanced up at Sam. “I’ll tell her. We’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

  “What?” Sam asked as Gram hung up the phone and went to the stove, where the grilled-cheese sandwiches she’d made before the power failure were waiting.

  “It’s really quite simple,” Gram said. She put the sandwiches and bowls of cooling tomato soup on the table. “Linc refuses to file a police report.”

  “So, it’s like a crime wasn’t committed, even though somebody sold that colt to the petting zoo,” Jen said.

  “That’s about the size of it,” Gram said. “Now eat your lunch before it’s stone cold. You can think at the same time.”

  During lunch, Sam decided to give Ryan Slocum one last chance.

  “You’re wasting your breath,” Gina said.

  “You don’t know that,” Mikki snapped.

  “I think he’s in on it with his dad,” Gina said.

  Sam was about to ask Jen what she thought of calling Ryan, but then she realized it didn’t matter. She was going to call Ryan no matter what anyone said.

  She drew a deep breath and punched in the telephone number.

  Sam almost dropped the phone when Ryan answered.

  Beside Sam, Jen looked startled, too.

  “What is it?” Jen asked. “You’re holding the telephone as if it just turned into a snake.”

  “Ryan?” Sam asked.

  “Who else would be answering my cell phone?” Ryan retorted.

  “Ryan, this is Samantha. We’ve found your colt, but—”

  “Shy Boots is supposed to be on his way to England. Where did you find him?”

  “Why would he be on his way to England?” Sam asked.

  “Because I’m going home.”

  “You’re going back to England?” Sam repeated, ducking away from Jen, who tried to grab the phone away. “Why?”

  “If you will stop asking questions and answer a few—”

  Ryan’s arrogance worked like a match to the fuse of a firecracker.

  “Don’t even try to boss me around, Ryan. It worked last time, but never again. I should have listened to my own good sense. Not only did you use me, you lied to me.”

  Sam glimpsed Jen’s amazement. Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape. Gram, Mikki, and Gina looked pretty much the same.

  In the silence, Sam wondered if Ryan had hung up.

  She listened so hard, she thought she heard blood swishing through the veins in her ear.

  Finally, Ryan spoke. “Everything I told you was true, except for coming back that night. It’s not like the horses were stranded there. I wrote Karl Mannix a check to pay their fare to England.”

  “But he didn’t do what you wanted him to. Someone—probably Mannix—ripped down the fence. Hotspot is running with the mustangs. And Shy Boots is in a petting zoo.”

  “I made an excellent plan,” Ryan said stubbornly.

  “Which did not work,” Sam said, spacing the words out so that he couldn’t miss a single one.

  “I paid him a sufficient amount—”

  “So what? Sometimes you have to do things yourself,” Sam insisted.

  She might have been giving herself a pep talk, and it was a good thing. The other four faces stared at her as if she were crazy.

  “I would have been waiting for them in England,” Ryan said in a pouty tone.

  “Why, Ryan?”

  “Isn’t it painfully clear?” he asked. “I don’t fit in, in Nevada.”

  Sam remembered Ryan saying he was the last person who could teach Shy Boots to be a Western horse. She also remembered what Sheriff Ballard had said about him.

  “Give it time,” she told him. “You’ve only been here a few months. I was born in the West, and I’m still figuring things out.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but—”

  “No, Ryan, I’m not being kind. I’m telling you to cowboy up.”

  Jen flung her arms out like wings, then mouthed the words, What are you doing?

  Sam closed her eyes. She had to do this her way.

  “Who do you think you are—?” Ryan barked.

  “Act insulted if you like, but it won’t help. Your father refuses to file a police report. That means the sheriff can’t do anything. If you want Shy Boots back, he’ll be at the Fourth of July carnival, at the fairgrounds, in Patty’s Petting Zoo.”

  Sam hung up. Her hand was still trembling on the phone, when she realized she was out of breath.

  “Good going, Sam,” Jen said. “You said what needed to be said. I just hope he heard it.”

  “I hope that really was Shy Boots on the website,” Mikki giggled.

  With an admiring smile, Gina took off her baseball cap and hung it on Sam’s head backwards.

  The Fourth of Ju
ly dawned sunny.

  “It’s like it never rained a drop,” Mikki said as she finished drying the last breakfast dish.

  Gina snatched the plate from Mikki and stuck it in the cupboard. Jen straightened the tablecloth with an impatient twitch and Sam shouted up the stairs.

  “Brynna, are you ready?”

  Dad called down something Sam couldn’t understand, but his tone said she knew better than to shout.

  “Honey, what’s your rush?” Gram asked. “The parade won’t begin for another hour.”

  “We might not be able to find a parking place,” Sam said, though she and Gram both knew she wanted to get there and look for Shy Boots.

  “You girls got up so early,” Gram said.

  In fact, they’d hardly slept. They’d chattered through a dozen what-if plans for bringing the colt back home.

  Their first choice was to have Sheriff Ballard impound the colt. If that didn’t work, they’d talk to Patty and try to make her understand what had happened. If all else failed, they planned to steal Shy Boots back.

  “Aren’t you warm, dear?” Gram asked, considering Sam’s sweatshirt.

  “I want to be prepared in case it rains,” Sam said.

  “It’ll soak up water like a sponge,” Dad commented as he came into the kitchen.

  Sam gave a nervous laugh. Underneath her sweatshirt, she wore one of Brynna’s uniform shirts.

  It was Gina who’d remembered that Patty wore a khaki shirt just like the ones Brynna wore with her uniform.

  “Wear it,” Gina told Sam. “If anyone notices you carrying Shy Boots away, they’ll think you work for Patty.”

  “Have you ever tried to carry a horse?” Jen had asked, but she’d agreed to go along.

  Sam was still more worried about being a bad influence on Gina than she was about moving the colt, but she couldn’t come up with a better scheme to reclaim Shy Boots.

  “There’s been a slight change of plans,” Dad said, looking over the girls’ heads at Gram. “If you all can get along without us, I think we’ll be staying home. Brynna just can’t seem to shake off this flu.”

  “That’s a shame,” Gram said, “but we’ll be fine, won’t we, girls?”