Galloping Gold Read online

  “I guess you can’t learn horse psychology overnight,” Darby said, “but you’ll be happier if you just remember three things—and all three relate to horses thinking like prey animals.”

  “Three things.” Tyson’s face twisted in mock concentration. “I think I can do that.”

  “They look for danger everywhere,” Darby said, holding up her index finger. “Their eyes are on the sides of their heads, so they see danger everywhere,” she said, counting off another finger. “And safety is with the herd. So if a horse has a choice, he’ll stay with his buddies.”

  “Not very good race thinkin’,” Tyson said, then, turning to Sugarfoot, he said, “Hope you like going fast more than you like other horses.”

  Tyson accepted her minilecture so well, Darby decided to ask what she’d wanted to since the first day he’d shown up.

  “Before we get going, want to give me some running tips?”

  “It’s too late,” he said.

  “Fine,” Darby said. She held her breath to keep from saying anything worse. That’s what she got for treating the guy like a human being.

  He shrugged, then said, “Tips would be like conditioning stuff, yeah? With only two days left before the race—and one of ’em has to be a day off—I can only tell you tricks.”

  Darby’s first impulse was to tell him she wouldn’t do anything underhanded, but then she’d be assuming the worst, just like his father, so she just said, “That’d be great. The only kind of competition I’ve done before is swimming.”

  It turned out that some of it was the same. Tyson told her to load up on carbohydrates the night before and eat lightly on race morning. He told her to listen to her body and reconsider her speed if her muscles burned or she couldn’t breathe.

  “Yeah, I know, you never would have thought of that on your own,” he joked.

  Darby laughed, and it might have been the first time Tyson had said something she thought was genuinely funny.

  Encouraged, he said, “You’ve gotta worry about hydration and foot placement more, too.”

  “I thought maybe that was the case,” Darby said, and then Tyson’s expression turned serious.

  “And since I don’t want our guy to get sold off for glue”—Tyson turned toward the paint with exaggerated casualness—“I’ll tell you the chant I use while I run.”

  Tyson looked back over his shoulder with raised eyebrows, as if he expected her to mock him.

  “That would be cool,” she said. “So far I’ve been using songs.”

  “It’s better than that, at least,” Tyson told her, then cleared his throat and recited, “The only barrier is in my brain.”

  The only barrier—that must be to speed, or winning, Darby thought—is in my brain.

  She nodded with satisfaction, then said, “I can remember that.”

  On race day, Darby woke to the smell of wood smoke. Jonah had allowed the visiting riders to camp on his land and Kit had built a central fire ring for use on the night before and the morning of the ride.

  Before she went out to Sugarfoot, Darby walked through the silent living room and onto the lanai.

  She looked down on the broodmare pasture and smiled. Like sunflowers, all the horses faced toward dawn’s golden glow. She looked for Hoku next to Tango, but her filly wasn’t there.

  Changing her position slightly, Darby spotted Lady Wong. Sometimes the gray mare, undisputed queen of the pasture, permitted Hoku to graze alongside her. But not this morning.

  “Change your mind?” Jonah asked as he bustled down the hall from his bedroom.

  “No way!” Darby said.

  “Could be a pretty tough ride.”

  “We’ll make it,” Darby answered vaguely.

  “What are you looking at?” Jonah asked. Darby tried to hold on to the tranquility of grazing horses as she reached for Jonah’s arm and hung on.

  “Do you see Hoku?”

  “Don’t you?” Jonah asked.

  When Darby shook her head, Jonah grabbed the binoculars he kept on the lanai and lifted them to his eyes.

  Darby tried to feel excited. She tried to believe that any second now, Jonah would point out her horse. She wanted him to prove her wrong, to say she was blinder than he was.

  Grumbling, he adjusted the binoculars for a second scan of the broodmare pasture.

  “Checking the fences,” Jonah said. “They all look fine.”

  A sharp whinny floated up to them and the thump of hooves followed.

  “That sounds like Hoku,” Darby said, “but not as sweet.”

  “Got her,” Jonah said. He shoved the binoculars at Darby. “That crow bait’s about to cost me my livelihood.”

  “Where?” Darby asked, blinking. She tried not to sweep the binoculars around so fast that she only saw green blurs.

  “Check Luna’s pasture,” Jonah said as he stopped to tug on his boots.

  “Luna?” Darby gasped.

  Oh, no—if Hoku had jumped her own and Kanaka Luna’s fences so she could turn her tomboy rage on the stallion, the filly’s life on ‘Iolani Ranch was over.

  Not only was the Quarter Horse stallion the biggest moneymaker on the place, but Jonah loved him.

  There. Darby saw a circle of chocolate-brown hide. The visiting mare. Then…

  “Oh, my gosh!”

  Ears flat and teeth bared, Hoku chased the other mare into the corner of two fences.

  “What is wrong with you?” Darby yelled.

  “Pretty sure she’s not in the mood to answer,” Jonah said as he stormed from the house. “If you’re going with me, better hurry.”

  Trying to make sense of what she’d just seen, Darby sprinted after Jonah. She almost collided with the vehicle that was parked next to the Land Rover.

  “Shall I go get her halter and—”

  “In back.” Jonah jerked his thumb toward the ATV’s small cargo area, indicating the plain rope halter and lead rope. “Get on, or step back.”

  Darby jumped up behind her grandfather and held on tight.

  Jonah shouted “Aloha!” as he swerved to miss a race entrant who’d camped overnight at ‘Iolani.

  There were thirty entrants, and she should be relaxing with them, gathering around a campfire with cups of coffee, tea, and hot chocolate before they fed their horses.

  She’d promised Ann that Sugarfoot would be eating by seven A.M., so she still had a little time, but—

  Jonah hit a bump that almost launched Darby off of the ATV. She held on, wishing she could see around the next corner.

  “I’ll just catch her and put her back in with the broodmares,” Darby said.

  “Might be easier to move Banshee,” Jonah said.

  “Okay.” Darby didn’t know what her grandfather was thinking. Jonah understood how savage Hoku could be with men and stallions. But it wouldn’t hurt to remind him, so she said, “I just don’t want her to hurt Luna.”

  As they came around the last corner, green pastures unrolled before them.

  Darby couldn’t believe the scene before her.

  “I think he’ll be okay,” Jonah said, and Darby was pretty sure he was right.

  Hoku stood beside Kanaka Luna. Her slim sorrel body mirrored his muscled bay one. Necks cloaked with heavy manes—one black, one ivory—they grazed, shoulders touching.

  “Hoku,” Darby said in soft surprise.

  Jonah didn’t joke that Hoku had gotten over her tomboy phase. He didn’t say anything, in fact, and Darby was glad. She tried to feel happy that Hoku had adjusted to ranch life, but all she felt was sad.

  It’s selfish, Darby thought, but I liked being her best friend.

  Jonah turned off the ATV. He’d stopped halfway down the hillside on the trail that ran between the broodmare pasture and Kanaka Luna’s compound.

  Darby didn’t want to move, but she felt the pressure of time pushing against her back. Every minute she stayed here was a minute she should be spending with Sugarfoot.

  “She’s safe, Granddaughter.
”

  Jonah sounded totally unfamiliar, like a kindly grandfather from a fairy tale, instead of his usual gruff self, and tears stung Darby’s eyes.

  “What are you waiting for?” he snapped. “Go get that paint horse fed and ready.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll get Banshee out of there so your pupule mustang doesn’t eat her alive. You can put her back where she belongs later.”

  “Okay,” Darby said. She climbed out of the ATV and took a step up the trail, back to the ranch yard. She looked back at Hoku shining fire gold beside Luna, still unable to believe her eyes, said “Okay” again, and broke into a run.

  She’d almost made it to Sugarfoot’s corral when something loomed up in her way.

  “Morning.”

  Darby startled, because she’d noticed the brown velvety ears of a Maui mule named Lark before she noticed Clint, the man who was bucket-feeding him.

  “Aloha,” Darby greeted the man.

  Still dazed, Darby smiled at other people she’d met yesterday when the course had opened. Although they weren’t allowed to ride it, at least one team member from each pair had walked it.

  Darby wondered if there’d ever been this many people on the ranch before and if there’d ever be this many again.

  Minutes later, Dr. Luke’s sister Sheila stood beside Darby, feeding Samba, her black Thoroughbred, as Darby fed Sugarfoot.

  Neither of them said much as their horses ate from their buckets of grain mixed with beet pulp, water, and shaved apples.

  Like Sheila, Darby ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich she’d made and stuffed in her pocket the night before.

  I’m befuddled, Darby thought as her eyes followed Sugarfoot’s lightning-bolt blaze over and over again. I feel bewildered, bemused, and befuddled.

  Couldn’t Hoku have chosen some other morning to surprise me this way?

  Darby swallowed the last bite of her sandwich, and Sugarfoot looked up from his bucket just as Kit came striding toward them.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “War paint,” Kit reminded her. “I’ll brush him and dude him up before you come down.”

  Darby had totally forgotten Kit’s offer to decorate Sugarfoot so that he’d stand out from the other horses, but she said, “Okay.”

  Kit frowned. “Bring the other two when they get here.”

  “Other two?” Darby asked.

  “I’m talking about Tyson and Ann.”

  “Oh,” Darby said, nodding.

  “You feelin’ a little fuzzy-minded?” Kit asked as he took Sugarfoot’s lead rope.

  Darby sighed. “Hoku’s in Luna’s pasture,” she told him.

  “Hmm,” Kit said, then grinned. “She picked her time and she picked her fella.”

  “I guess,” Darby said.

  The Nevada cowboy’s words lightened her mood and Darby was feeling eager to get started when she saw Tyson walking down the dirt road past Sun House. She strode toward him, but right off she had to jump back and suck in her stomach to keep from being bowled over by a girl on a pony.

  Biggy Nuff, she thought, remembering the pony’s name first. His rider was Carrie. She wore braids and a Hapuna Prep School sweatshirt. Her teammate was her mother.

  And then Darby saw Ann. Although she was limping, Ann had caught up with Tyson by the time he reached Darby.

  “You guys look so cute,” Ann said, indicating their shirts.

  They both wore old Hawaiian shirts of Jonah’s. Tyson had cut the short sleeves off his so it looked more like a racing singlet, and Darby had tied hers up at the waist, but both shirts were patterned with huge red hibiscus flowers, which should make it easy for them to spot each other.

  They found Kit and Cade putting the finishing touches on Sugarfoot’s eye rings.

  “Wow!” Ann stepped closer to greet her horse and examine the red paint surrounding Sugarfoot’s eyes.

  “The old ones say it will improve his vision,” Kit told them.

  “Anything that helps,” Tyson said. He lifted the heavy Western saddle they’d decided to use in place of the endurance saddle, since it would give Tyson more security.

  But Tyson was surprised when Kit asked him to press his hand palm down in the tray of red paint.

  “Now put it on Sugarfoot’s left flank,” Kit said.

  “Pele red,” Cade said approvingly.

  Then, using Sugarfoot’s right flank as their canvas, Darby and Ann dipped their hands and pressed palm prints with their thumbs overlapping so the pattern looked like an owl.

  “Caught you red-handed, didn’t I?”

  Darby decided shock had damaged her brain. The voice sounded like her dad’s.

  And when she turned around, there he was, handing off a huge stack of pizza boxes to Ellen Kealoha Carter, her beautiful movie-star mother.

  “What?” Darby croaked.

  “This is my surprise,” her mother said. “I brought the fruit, too, but I thought pizza would be better than fried goat or pork chops.”

  “Mom!” Darby said, looking in the direction of Pigolo’s pen, and then at Francie.

  “Should I have gotten my hands on tempura shrimp instead?” Ellen asked, pretending to worry.

  “Daddy!” Darby said, and she launched herself into her father’s arms, trying to keep her red hands off his shirt.

  “Baby,” her father said. “Have I ever missed you!”

  It was undoubtedly the weirdest morning of her life. Darby decided that she’d have to ask Tutu what kind of magic cloud had fallen over ‘Iolani Ranch, but she’d have to do it later because her teammates were growing impatient.

  They allowed themselves to be introduced, and promised to look for the Carters and Aunt Babe, who’d just arrived out on the course with Duckie and trays of ginger-fragrant spring rolls.

  Darby waved at her parents, then quickly and quietly put them out of her mind to focus on the race.

  While Tyson led Sugarfoot around to dry, Ann’s parents caught up with her and talked to Darby while she tied back her hair and put on her helmet.

  Darby didn’t hear a word of anyone’s advice, but she did say, “I wish you were going, too,” as she hugged Ann.

  “Me too, and—ow! What, Dad?”

  “Sorry sweetie, nothing,” Ed Potter said.

  “Nothing, except that you stomped my toe.”

  Ed stopped scanning the crowd, and said, “Just for a minute there, I thought I saw our insurance man.”

  “My dad’s paranoid,” Ann told Darby. “He’s been seeing the guy everywhere.”

  Ramona patted her husband’s arm. “Ed, Mr. Border will be at the ranch tomorrow. What reason would he have to show up today?”

  “None, I s’pose,” Ed said.

  “I wouldn’t bet on it,” Darby said. “It’s been a bizarre morning.”

  When Sugarfoot’s cinch was fastened for the last time, and Darby had swung into the saddle, she couldn’t help wondering if the insurance man really was there.

  “See you under the big ohia tree,” Ann promised.

  Darby nodded, recalling that at their first stop, the rules allowed a horse to be “hand-tied.” That meant it could be held by an extra team member who’d calm the horse and make sure everything was going as planned.

  Ann’s parents had agreed to let her be that team member.

  “See you there,” Darby replied, but her mind was on Ed Potter’s so-called paranoia.

  Then, even though he was a levelheaded rancher, not prone to silly worries or extravagant shows of emotion, Ed took hold of Sugarfoot’s bridle by the cheek straps and kissed the gelding’s nose.

  “Aloha!” Darby called to them all, then bent down close to Sugarfoot’s ears and whispered, “Do your best, boy. It’s your last chance.”

  The race started at an open spot in the forest. Fifteen runners warmed up by stretching and gobbling energy bars. Fifteen horses pawed the ground with nerves, spooking at flags and radio static from walkie-talkies, sweating in anticipation. Fi
fteen riders reminded themselves they’d walked the course, scheduled each stop, practiced each swap between rider and runner.

  “All this planning. What a waste,” Tyson muttered.

  “Don’t start!” Darby snapped at him.

  Tyson shrugged off her irritability, then said, “How ya gonna plan for what forty-five living things are gonna do?”

  Forty-five living things. The phrase echoed in Darby’s mind as Pauli kissed each of her cheeks for luck, then did the same to an unreceptive Tyson.

  He not only didn’t look like the kid with the hooded gray sweatshirt who’d said he treated Jewel like a bicycle; he wasn’t even thinking like him.

  “Is everyone you know here?” Tyson scoffed.

  Just when she started believing the kid was human, Darby thought, Tyson wrecked the illusion.

  “Almost,” Darby answered, and waved again at her proud, blue-eyed father. Judging by the way he kept talking to the people around him and pointing, she could tell that everyone on the island of Moku Lio Hihiu now knew he was her father, the best pizza baker in the world, and he had brought his girl’s favorites all the way from California.

  “Seen my dad?” Tyson muttered to Pauli.

  I’m so lucky, Darby thought, but she didn’t listen to Pauli’s answer or look for her mother or think about Hoku.

  All at once Darby shrank in on herself, but not in a bad way. She felt centered and balanced, as a professorial voice in her mind ticked off items from their plan.

  I ride first. Tyson runs. Ann meets us at the first stop to help Tyson mount Sugarfoot, because he’ll be bursting out of his skin with the thrill of galloping. After that, we’re on our own.

  At last they were lined up in three rows of five horses across.

  Darby thought her heart would pound out of her chest with eagerness before Dr. Luke dropped the flag, but then he was shouting, “Go!,” and they started.

  Electricity wasn’t really jolting down her arms and legs, so it must have been adrenaline.

  The horses leaped forward as one.

  What am I doing in the middle of this wild herd? A rush of fear filled her as she was surrounded by horses.

  Light, Darby thought, I need light and space.