Untamed Page 14
“Ow, Daisy!” Sam yelped, then lowered her to the kitchen rug.
She’d have to think about Slocum later.
She darted into the living room, grabbed the afghan off the couch, and slipped back into the kitchen before Daisy had a chance to follow.
Some people, Sam thought as she spread the knit blanket on the kitchen floor, would get mad if their granddaughter brought a calf into the kitchen. But not Gram.
There’d been orphan animals in the house before. As long as she kept things neat, her family would welcome the rescued calf. For a little while.
Daisy dozed while Sam found the bottle, nipple, and calf formula in the pantry, but she woke the yellow calf to feed her. Daisy needed nourishment. After ten minutes of slobbering and splattering them both with formula, she realized it was food and settled down to suckle, then nap some more.
Even though it wasn’t close to dinnertime, Sam set out the ingredients for lasagna. Better to start early, she thought. It might take her a while.
Actually, it wasn’t that hard to make, she discovered as she chopped and minced and mixed. Maybe she’d inherited Mom’s knack for lasagna.
As she cooked, Sam figured out how she’d scare Linc Slocum into behaving. Then, while the meat, garlic, onions, and spices cooked, she put her plan into motion.
“I’m feeling just cranky enough to make this work,” Sam whispered to Daisy.
Sam flipped the tape and slipped it back into the tape recorder. She needed an attachment to do this right, but if she held the receiver a little away from her ear, she might be able to catch Linc Slocum’s guilty voice.
She opened the phone book and dialed his number.
Don’t let Rachel answer, she thought.
“Slocum,” snapped Linc as he picked up the telephone.
Relieved, Sam moved closer to the tape recorder.
“Hi, Mr. Slocum,” she began. “This is Samantha Forster.”
“Well, Samantha, I ain’t heard your voice in a month of Mondays.”
Linc Slocum loved silly Western sayings. He thought it made him sound like a cowboy.
It didn’t, and Sam was pretty sure the saying was “a month of Sundays.” Still, she didn’t correct him.
“Mr. Slocum, I’m going to say something I’m afraid you won’t like.”
“Oh now, what could a sweet little…”
As Linc’s voice trailed off, Sam guessed he was remembering how she’d sabotaged his attempt to adopt the Phantom the previous summer. Maybe he was thinking of the reward money he’d had to pay her for catching the stallion who’d stolen Hotspot. And, though she’d never proven he’d helped Karla Starr capture the Phantom for a rodeo bucking horse, she’d come close. He might be recalling that.
Or maybe Linc Slocum had learned thirteen-year-old girls weren’t as helpless as they looked.
“Here’s the thing, Mr. Slocum,” she said quietly, watching Daisy to be sure she didn’t waken.
“Speak up, girl.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, Mr. Slocum. There’s someone here who’ll be really upset if I do.”
In the moment of silence that followed, Sam realized Slocum thought he was being threatened.
“Who is it you’re talking about?” he asked. “Your dad? That Jake Ely?”
Sam didn’t tell. She just smiled at the harmless yellow calf.
“It doesn’t matter, Mr. Slocum,” she told him. “The thing is, I was talking with the man who taught you about mustanging. A lot of people suspect you’re the one who scarred the Phantom, but he knows it. He taught you how.”
For some reason, she thought it would be smarter not to mention Caleb Sawyer’s name.
“Hmph,” Slocum grumped. “That’s one man’s word against another’s.”
“Except I have it on tape,” Sam pointed out.
He was quiet again.
“Still,” Slocum said at last, less vehemently, “you’ve got no witnesses.”
“Okay. You’re right,” Sam agreed. “I just thought I’d let you know before I turn this tape over to Sheriff Ballard.”
“What?” Slocum’s voice was so loud, Sam was afraid he’d wake up Daisy. “What do you think the sheriff’d want with it?”
“I’m not sure,” Sam said, trying to sound puzzled. “But I think it’s called ‘building a body of evidence.’ You know, so that if anything happens to the Phantom…”
“That’s blackmail! And, and,” Slocum grasped for words. “Maybe I’m not the one you should be worrying about, little lady!”
“He knew he was speaking on tape,” Sam said, still not mentioning Caleb Sawyer by name.
“And he said—” Slocum broke off.
Sam was pretty sure Slocum was weighing his words, now, wondering what Caleb had said about the past and predicted for the future.
That satisfied Sam. She might not have dragged a confession out of Linc Slocum, but self-preservation was supposed to be a deterrent to crime. Now that he knew she had incriminating information about him, he might leave the horses alone.
Her spirits rose. Even though this wasn’t a triumph she’d share with her family, the small victory was worth winning.
“Samantha Forster,” Linc shouted, “I’ll tell you what, if you were a well-behaved young lady like my Rachel, your life would run a lot smoother!”
Sam didn’t let herself laugh. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted to say on tape, either.
“Good-bye, Mr. Slocum,” she said. “It was sure nice talking to you.”
It was nearly seven o’clock when Gram, Brynna, and Dad rode into the River Bend Ranch yard.
The lasagna had been done for an hour and it was a little crunchy around the edges.
As Sam opened the door and stood waiting on the porch, Gram dismounted. Still holding Sweetheart’s reins, Gram inhaled deeply.
“Something smells good.” She took off her hat and the bandanna she’d worn underneath to protect her gray hair from dust.
Sam’s eyes did a quick assessment of her family.
Brynna was loosening Penny’s cinch, and running her hands over the mare. Her front legs looked fine.
Dad stood in his stirrups, eyes scanning the rest of the ranch, to see that nothing had gone wrong in his absence.
If they knew she’d been gone all night, they were too tired to say much about it. Yet.
“It does smell good,” Brynna agreed, giving Penny a final pat. “You go on in, Grace,” she told Gram, “and I’ll take care of your horse.”
“Before you do,” Sam said, standing in the doorway, “you should know we, uh, have a little visitor.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sam’s family stood statue still.
Then Gram’s head tilted to one side as if she hadn’t heard right. Brynna glanced over her shoulder for strange vehicles before she looked at Dad. He dismounted and ground-tied Strawberry.
“Well, shoot,” he said, wearily. “I know I can’t resist goin’ in to see.”
Quickly, Brynna tied the other horses. As all three of them stepped inside, the calf awoke and blinked her long-lashed eyes.
At the sight of strangers, Daisy bolted to her feet and pressed against Sam’s knees. She made a sound that sounded like maw.
“This is Daisy,” Sam said.
“Buttercup’s calf,” Dad realized, nodding.
After a quick glance, Brynna wasn’t looking at the calf. She was looking at Sam’s hair. “Did you spend the night outside?”
Sam touched her hair. It could be full of stickers and burrs for all she knew.
She nodded. Asked a direct question, she just couldn’t lie.
“We heard you go out,” Dad said. “I woulda been worried if you hadn’t been here when we rode in.”
“Instead, she’s brought us a surprise,” Gram said.
Was that all? Sam tried to stay calm, despite her amazement. When all three of them looked happy, she felt guilty instead of relieved.
“I’m really sorry I let you down,
” she began.
“Honey, you never did,” Dad said. “We were only scared for you.”
Gram wrapped her in a tight hug. When she finally let go, Sam knew what had to be done next.
“I know how you feel,” Sam admitted. “Before I sit down for dinner, I have to take Buddy back out to the herd.”
She sighed so loudly, she almost expected them to laugh, but they didn’t.
“I’m afraid for her safety,” Sam added, “but I know it’s what she really wants.”
“I think that’s a good decision, dear,” Gram said.
When Brynna nodded and looked as if she’d put her hat back on, Dad asked, “This somethin’ you want to do on your own?”
“Yeah, if it’s okay with everybody,” Sam said.
“More than okay,” Brynna said. “I can’t wait to cut a slab of that lasagna.”
“Neither can I,” Gram said.
“And I’ll see how Buttercup’s done for us this year,” Dad nodded toward Daisy.
Outside, Sam stalled. She put away all three horses, so that Gram, Dad, and Brynna could go ahead and eat.
The sky behind the barn was streaked magenta and purple. There was nothing shy about the end of this day that had started in the Phantom’s hidden valley.
Sam made half a dozen trips between the barn and the ranch yard, returning saddles and bridles and collecting grooming tools.
She took her time brushing Ace and saddling him.
At last there was nothing left to do except go to the tack room. For the last time, she took down the little rope halter Dad had fashioned for Buddy.
Alert as a deer, Buddy stood by the pasture fence, waiting. Jeepers-Creepers was rolling in the grass and the other horses were grazing at the far end of the enclosure, but Buddy knew something was up.
Sam glanced at the sky again. She probably had another hour of daylight, so she couldn’t use darkness as an excuse to wait one more day.
“And you’re not even going to make me play chase, are you?” Sam said, rubbing Buddy’s head between the ears, where she liked it best.
Buddy’s smooth red ears batted forward and she ducked her head toward the halter.
“Okay,” Sam said quietly. She haltered Buddy, attached a lead rope, led her from the pasture, and swung into Ace’s saddle.
In spite of Buddy’s excitement, Sam rode past the first knot of cattle gathered about a half mile from the River Bend Bridge.
She let Buddy stop and touch noses, but she kept riding, and though she looked back over her shoulder a few times, Buddy didn’t seem too sad to go.
It wouldn’t be fair to turn Buddy loose so close to home, anyway.
“I’ll tell you why,” she said, glancing back at Buddy. “If I’d been able to run home on that first day I met Rachel, I never would have gone back to school. You’ll probably feel the same way about some of the cows you meet.”
Sam took a breath and though she couldn’t believe what she was about to say, she said it anyway. “It’s for your own good.”
Buddy nodded with each step, so maybe she wasn’t agreeing, but Sam decided she was.
Upriver, almost at Three Ponies Ranch, they found a scattering of Herefords with a good mix of young and mature cows. Buddy bucked at the end of the lead rope.
About twenty white faces turned to watch their approach, but only half bolted at the sight of the swinging rope attached to Buddy’s halter.
Good, Sam thought. They weren’t too wild, but they were skittish enough to run from a potential threat. Buddy would probably be safe with them.
Probably, Sam thought, as she dismounted and ground-tied Ace.
Buddy had stopped pulling at the rope. She still looked curious, but now that Sam was about to set her free, Buddy shifted from hoof to hoof, looking worried.
Ace gave a small nicker. Then the little bay gelding slung his head over Sam’s shoulder. He blew through his lips, comforting her.
“Thanks, boy,” Sam said.
She walked down the rope, gathering it as she went. She eased the halter over Buddy’s ears.
When Buddy didn’t buck and run away, Sam couldn’t help it: she circled Buddy’s neck in a hug, and thought of the day she’d first seen her, alone and trapped in a mire of quicksand.
Buddy’s bawling had been low and rough, because her throat was sore from calling for a mother who couldn’t come to her.
With Dad’s rope tied around her waist, Sam had lain spread-eagled on her belly atop the hot, alkali flat. She’d inched close enough to grab the struggling calf in a bear hug.
Maaaaa, maaaa, Buddy had bawled, but Dad urged his horse away, pulling Buddy from the quicksand as Sam held on tight.
Now, with her face pressed against Buddy’s sleek red neck, she held on just as tight.
Sam, you can let go now.
The voice she heard could have been Mom’s. It could have been her own, when she was more grown up.
Slowly, Sam loosened her hug. Finally, she let her arms drop away from Buddy’s neck.
Buddy hopped a few steps forward. She glanced at Sam, blinking.
Sam took a step back toward Ace and it was all the permission Buddy needed. With a swivel of her heels, Buddy ran to join the other cows.
Sam remounted Ace. She sat watching as dusk, and then darkness, fell. Sometimes she let her eyes wander to the Calico Mountains.
Over the river and up a rugged trail, the Phantom and his herd were safe.
Here on the range, bumping shoulders and grazing on tender green grass, Buddy was a dark silhouette among others of her kind.
“Everybody’s where they belong except us, pretty boy,” Sam said, giving her horse a pat.
Lifting her reins, Sam said a silent good-bye to the Phantom, to Buddy, and to the silver moon bouncing on the rippling La Charla River. Then she turned Ace into the summer night and rode at a jog toward home.
About the Author
Terri Farley has always loved horses. She left Los Angeles for the cowgirl state of Nevada after earning degrees in English and Journalism. Now she rides the range researching books and magazine articles on the West’s people and animals—especially Nevada’s controversial wild horses. She lives in a one-hundred-year-old house with her husband, children, and way too many pets.
Visit www.phantomstallion.com
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Read all the books about the
Phantom Stallion
1
THE WILD ONE
2
MUSTANG MOON
3
DARK SUNSHINE
4
THE RENEGADE
5
FREE AGAIN
6
THE CHALLENGER
7
DESERT DANCER
8
GOLDEN GHOST
9
GIFT HORSE
10
RED FEATHER FILLY
11
UNTAMED
12
RAIN DANCE
Credits
Cover art © 2004 by Greg Call
Cover © 2004 by HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
Copyright
PHANTOM STALLION #11: UNTAMED. Copyright © 2004 by Terri Sprenger-Farley. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition March 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-188853-3
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publish
ers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
25 Ryde Road (PO Box 321)
Pymble, NSW 2073, Australia
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
55 Avenue Road, Suite 2900
Toronto, ON, M5R, 3L2, Canada
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited
P.O. Box 1
Auckland, New Zealand
http://www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
77-85 Fulham Palace Road
London, W6 8JB, UK
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
10 East 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com