Desert Dancer Page 3

  Sam couldn’t help laughing. So much for the fairy-tale bride. Brynna swirled around with a sheepish grin. “Well, everyone was busy, and I had to get Callie’s attention.”

  “Callie?”

  “The hair girl your Aunt Sue hired,” Brynna explained. “You must not have passed her as you came in, because you’d have noticed her. She has a pierced nose and her hair’s a shade of yellow that doesn’t occur naturally in human beings.”

  Now Brynna really didn’t sound like a princess. She sounded like the biologist she was.

  “Where is Aunt Sue?” Sam asked. Though she’d lived for two whole years with Aunt Sue while recovering from her riding accident, they’d only talked on the phone since Sam had moved back to Nevada seven months ago.

  Aunt Sue was a teacher, and now that it was school vacation for both of them, she would stay with Sam while Dad and Brynna honeymooned.

  “Sue is helping your gram with the buffet,” Brynna said.

  Sam thought Brynna looked a little skeptical, as if she were about to say something else.

  Aunt Sue was short in height, but never short of opinions, and she did have a way of taking over.

  But Brynna only shook her head and smiled. “It’s really nice of her to let us use her apartment while she visits with you.”

  Sam knew Aunt Sue’s arrival was more than a visit, but she bit her tongue to keep from asking Brynna why Dad wouldn’t leave her alone. Even though she was thirteen years old, he couldn’t get over the idea she needed a baby-sitter.

  The sudden chords of the pipe organ surged through the room.

  “That’s our cue,” Brynna said, drawing a deep breath. “We’ve got half an hour before the ceremony. Plenty of time,” she said as she helped Sam into a special slip with a flounced petticoat. “Now, tell me what happened to make you late? I know it had to do with horses. Did you take another fall?”

  Another fall. Even Brynna had noticed. Sam felt a hot blush cover her face. For a minute, she wanted to confide in Brynna. But this was Brynna’s wedding day. It would be selfish to wonder aloud why she’d regressed into a lousy, fearful rider.

  Besides, she needed Brynna’s help with the mustangs.

  “More like an emergency dismount,” Sam admitted, feeling better when Brynna laughed.

  “You’re okay, right?” Brynna’s glance gave Sam a quick once-over.

  “I’m fine, but I’m worried. They stampeded, just because a noise startled them. The Phantom’s lead mare is missing and the herd is all confused.”

  “Missing?” Brynna shook her head with a little grimace. “Remind me what the mare looks like.”

  “A red dun with tiger stripes on her front legs and—”

  “Right.” Brynna nodded, and though she appeared to be watching Sam put on light makeup, Brynna’s eyes looked far away. “She’s the one that was scolding Moon when we saw the herd up in Lost Canyon. She didn’t look old or unhealthy,” Brynna mused.

  Sam’s spirits fell. She’d hoped Brynna would have a logical explanation for the dun’s absence. “Could the wranglers have brought her in?”

  “I doubt it,” Brynna said. “We did so many gathers in the late summer and early fall, because of the drought, we haven’t needed to do more.”

  That left injury or death as reasons for the mare’s disappearance. Sam’s chest felt heavy.

  “When was the last time you saw her?” Brynna asked. “There’s a slight chance she left the herd to foal, then got left behind. But that’s so unlikely, Sam. I wouldn’t want you to count on it.”

  “I saw her a couple weeks ago. She looked slim and fast,” Sam said. “She couldn’t have been carrying a foal.”

  “Listen, I’ve been busy getting my Willow Springs work done, so Wyatt and I could get away,” Brynna sounded suddenly more upbeat. “If an injured or feral horse was brought in, I might not know about it. After the ceremony, I’ll put in a call to my substitute—” Brynna broke off with a wry smile. “You know who he is, don’t you?”

  “Oh, my gosh.” Sam groaned. “Tell me it’s not Norman White.”

  “I could, but I’d be lying. Mr. White is covering for me this week.”

  Sam ignored Brynna’s gentle reprimand because, really, he didn’t deserve her respect. Once before Norman White had filled in for Brynna. The bossy bureaucrat had tried to “tie up loose ends” by putting down mustangs he classified as “unadoptable.”

  Luckily, Mrs. Allen, their neighbor, had taken the horses in and started the Blind Faith Mustang Sanctuary.

  Sam didn’t look forward to meeting up with Norman White again, but she’d do anything for the Phantom and his herd.

  “Anyway,” Brynna went on. “Since you’re acquainted with Mr. White, I’ll notify him that you’re looking for the mare. Tomorrow’s Christmas, so you can’t go then, but maybe Jake can drive you up the day after.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sam said. By the time she settled her grudge against Jake, the only place he’d want to drive her would be to the sheriff’s office.

  “Your Aunt Sue, then,” Brynna said as a knock sounded on the dressing room door. “Come in.”

  The girl who sauntered in had gray eyes behind wire-framed granny glasses. Her hair curved in a chrome-yellow page boy. Sam’s mind churned, trying to decide why she looked familiar.

  “Mmmm, it smells heavenly in here. The flowers must’ve arrived, “the girl said.

  Above a long, gauzy skirt she wore a black tee-shirt featuring a heart drawn to look like hot-pink barbed wire. Sam guessed that was in tribute to the wedding.

  “They have,” Brynna said, pointing to bouquets of tiny white roses and fresh pine. “Callie, this is my daughter-to-be, Samantha Forster. Sam, this is Callie—” Brynna paused.

  “Thurston,” the girl supplied her last name. “I recognize you. We rode the bus together.”

  “Right,” Sam said. How could Callie be both a student and a hairdresser?

  “You commune with the white stallion,” Callie said.

  Commune? Sam loved the Phantom, but commune sounded paranormal, as if she could read his mind.

  “I wish that were true,” Sam said, smiling. “I think about him plenty, but I don’t know how often he thinks about me.”

  It was a lame response, but Callie didn’t seem to notice. She walked around Sam, calculating the damage she’d done to her auburn hair.

  Wind. Dirt. Horse trough water. Sam figured she’d look better if she wore her Stetson down the aisle, but Callie didn’t appear overwhelmed. In fact, she looked like she’d just accepted a dare as she plugged in a curling iron, grabbed a brush, and considered Sam with anticipation.

  “It turns out that Callie is going to be one of our adopters,” Brynna said as she looked in the mirror to straighten her veil.

  “That’s great! Congratulations,” Sam said, but she’d just gotten a good look at one of Callie’s professional tools. Callie held a brush bristling with plastic spikes. She held it in the air, ready to subdue Sam’s unruly hair. Maybe she could distract her. “Tell me about your horse.”

  “I will,” Callie promised. “I hope I can connect with her like you do with the Phantom.”

  “It takes time,” Sam began.

  “Which we don’t have much of, right now,” Brynna reminded the girls.

  “Right,” Callie said, closing in with the brush.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Sam added, but over the scream of the hair dryer, no one heard her.

  The church glowed with candlelight as Sam moved down the aisle. Her nerves disappeared when she saw Dad. He must have looked handsome. Everyone said so later, but all Sam knew was that his eyes were full of her and he was proud. She wanted to run down the aisle and hug him. Instead, she acted her age, taking one measured step after the other, just as she’d done in rehearsal.

  After that, the wedding passed in a blur.

  Dallas dropped the gold ring he was passing to Dad. A soloist sang an old Beatles song about loving each other ’til they were
sixty-four. Brynna caught her heel in the hem of her wedding dress, tripped, and Dad caught her and kissed her before the minister pronounced them married. As the ceremony ended with a joyous hymn, Dad and Brynna led the way back down the aisle. Sam took Dallas’s arm and they followed along.

  All the guests in the church pews looked happy, especially Aunt Sue, who wore a red suit and jerked her thumb skyward as she gave Sam a huge smile.

  The organist played so loudly, Sam almost didn’t hear Dallas say, “That’s it, then. Head ’em up and move ’em out.”

  A Western swing band played in the crowded reception hall. Some guests juggled plates of finger food while others danced, drank sparkling cider, and agreed this was the liveliest Christmas Eve they’d ever seen.

  Now Sam was waiting for her best friend, Jen. They’d made a deal to meet at the punch bowl once the reception began.

  Jen and her mother were spending most of winter vacation with cousins in Utah and this would be the last chance Sam had to hang around with Jen before she left.

  But Aunt Sue found her first.

  “Sam, honey, I have missed you so much.” Aunt Sue swept her up in a hug scented with perfume and hairspray. “My apartment is just empty without you.”

  Sam knew she’d have a lipstick kiss on her cheek, but she didn’t care. Aunt Sue lit up the room in her bright suit and silver-blond hair. If she looked teary, it was just for a moment, and her smile never wavered.

  Sam wondered if that was how Mom would have looked, seeing her daughter in her first formal dress?

  “No matter. We have all week together,” Aunt Sue said, brushing aside her melancholy. Then she nodded toward the buffet where Gram was urging people to fill their plates. “Grace tells me we’ll have the house to ourselves. She’s taking a Southwestern cooking class with a friend, right? It’s just as well,” she said, lowering her voice. “I brought plenty of videos and junk food. I don’t think Grace would approve.”

  Sam laughed. She was just about to praise Aunt Sue’s contribution to their vacation fun, when Linc Slocum’s voice boomed over the music.

  “Didn’t take that little lady long to put her lasso on Wyatt,” Slocum said. “She’s got him trussed up and hog-tied good and proper.”

  Startled guests stared, then saw who was talking and looked away.

  Most neighbors had gotten used to the rich man who’d proven he’d pay lots of money to be accepted as a real Westerner. His strategy hadn’t worked, but his movie cowboy clothes and speech were hard to miss.

  “My, that gentleman certainly is dressed for the occasion.” Aunt Sue was polite, but Sam could hear the laughter bubbling under her words.

  From the front, Linc’s attire looked almost sedate. He wore a black Western coat and slacks with a white shirt. His diamond-eyed steer’s head bolo tie was a little flashy, but not bad for Slocum.

  Then he turned around. The back of his jacket squirmed with embroidery. Orange and purple roosters fought in a blizzard of floating feathers and glittering red sequins that looked a lot like blood.

  “Please notice he’s the only one here wearing…” Sam began.

  “Duly noted,” Aunt Sue said, then peered into the punch bowl. “All but empty,” she observed, tsking. “No rest for the wicked. I’d better return to my duties, but find me after all the festivities,” she told Sam, “because I’m your ride and you’ll have to show me how to drive to the ranch.” Aunt Sue gave a theatrical shudder.

  “Aunt Sue, you’ll love River Bend,” Sam insisted.

  “Samantha, this is one way in which I am quite different from your mother. Louise, bless her silly little heart, believed scorpions, bloodthirsty coyotes, and steely-eyed cowpokes were romantic. She always wanted to live on a ranch. I, on the other hand, find elevators, crowded sidewalks, and cable cars exciting. I always wanted to live in civilization.”

  “By the end of the week, you won’t want to leave,” Sam promised.

  “We’ll see, honey,” Aunt Sue kissed Sam’s cheek again and disappeared toward the church kitchen.

  Sam wished Jen would hurry. Their meeting place was too crowded with Slocums. Because Dad and Brynna were good neighbors, the entire Slocum family had been invited.

  While Linc boomed out folksy expressions, Rachel looked bored and Ryan accepted Nevada-style welcomes.

  Most members of the ranch families knew Rachel, Linc’s beautiful and snobby daughter, but many were taking their first look at her twin from England, and seemed dazzled by how different Ryan Slocum was from his father.

  Sam was watching from the corner of her eye, trying not to stare, when Jen appeared beside her.

  “Are you checking this out?” Jen nodded toward Ryan and his audience.

  Jen looked pretty in a blue velvet jumper over a silky white turtleneck, but the twist of her lips was even more sarcastic than usual.

  “They love it when he tilts his head and gets that serious little frown before saying ‘Reeeally?’” Jen observed. Grudgingly, she added, “He does look way British and sort of cute.”

  Sam considered Ryan. “Looks aren’t everything,” she said as Linc Slocum guffawed at one of his own jokes. “Think of his bloodlines.”

  “He’s a guy, not a horse, “Jen said, laughing. Her eyes glowed with thanks and she gave Sam’s shoulder a gentle shove. “You are so good at cheering me up.”

  “Why do you need cheering up?” Sam asked.

  “Some people just don’t like weddings.”

  Sam’s lips parted to ask why, but Jen’s expression had changed. Her stare warned against it.

  Sam felt chilled by Jen’s look. Her best friend had been going through a tough time. Her parents were fighting. There was a chance they might leave Gold Dust Ranch, where Jen’s dad was foreman, and move to town.

  So Sam just smiled. She didn’t want her best friend mad at her. Besides, if she was patient, Jen would explain.

  But then Jen elbowed her. Hard.

  “Ow! What was that for?” Sam gasped. She steadied her punch cup as it lapped near the edges. “You’re just lucky I’m quick, because I really like this dress.”

  “Sorry,” Jen said, but she didn’t sound sincere. “You can forget watching Ryan,” Jen said, pointing. “The real show is right over there.”

  Chapter Four

  “Callie?” Sam asked.

  “Calliope Thurston,” Jen corrected. “A weird name for the weirdest kid in Nevada.”

  “She’s not that weird. I was just talking with her.” Sam watched the girl with the yellow hair and pierced nose move onto the dance floor.

  “Don’t you remember that day on the bus when everyone saw you with the Phantom and she implied you were a witch?”

  “Sort of,” Sam said. This probably wasn’t the best time to bring up Callie’s remark about communing with the stallion. Jen already sounded critical.

  “How can you forget something like that?” Rachel Slocum stepped between Sam and Jen, inviting herself into their conversation.

  Jen’s index finger jabbed her glasses up her nose, while Sam shrugged.

  “I was talking with her earlier,” Sam repeated, “and I kind of liked her.”

  Rachel fixed Sam with a disbelieving look. “Her parents are hippies.”

  Sam refocused on Callie. Before, she hadn’t noticed the back of Callie’s hair was shaved up her neck. Only the sides were long. And she did have that tiny gold stud in her nose and wore sixties-style clothes. That was unusual for this part of Nevada, but she wouldn’t have attracted a single glance in San Francisco.

  “They ran a health food store in Darton,” Rachel confided, “until they got run out of town.”

  “By the Health Department or something?” Jen asked.

  “How can it possibly matter?” Rachel asked, raising one plucked eyebrow.

  Sam hoped Jen had heard the echo of her own nasty tone. But Sam’s hope was crushed the next time Jen spoke.

  “I wonder why you’re sticking up for her?” Jen gave Sam a suspi
cious look.

  “I’m not—”

  “Did you know Callie’s parents let her drop out of school?”

  Callie was dancing with a guy Sam vaguely recognized. He was a hand from a local ranch, not a high school student.

  Still, Callie had seemed smart while they were talking. She wasn’t the type Sam imagined as a dropout. That did explain how she could be a hairdresser, though.

  “She could’ve gotten sick and started failing classes,” Sam mused. She’d fallen behind a few times, herself, because she was too busy with horses. “And she might have gotten discouraged, trying to catch up. I could see that, but I wonder why her parents let her quit?”

  “Who knows why people like that do anything?” Rachel said, shuddering a little.

  “It’s true,” Jen added. “She dropped out and, according to Clara from the café, she’s living on her own in someone’s converted garage. And she’s only seventeen.”

  Jen sounded like a judgmental old woman, Sam thought.

  No, wait. It was worse than that. She sounded like Rachel. Sam took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip to keep from saying so. If she wanted to end their friendship forever, all she’d have to do is tell Jen that.

  Abruptly, Jen’s focus shifted. Sam followed her glance to Jed and Lila Kenworthy. Jen’s parents sat side by side on metal folding chairs. They held cups of punch and forced smiles onto their lips whenever anyone came up to chat, but they didn’t talk to each other. The only thing they did together was watch the clock.

  Sam noticed Jed’s shoulder bump Lila’s. Lila drew her whole body away, as if she’d been burned.

  No wonder Jen didn’t like weddings.

  As Rachel moved off to stand with her twin, Sam thought hard. There must be a way to improve Jen’s mood. Before she came up with anything, Sam was interrupted.

  “Excuse me, ladies,” Dad said.

  Sam looked up. How could Dad look familiar but foreign at the same time? His tanned cowboy face was kind and serious as always, but he stood straighter and taller. The black tuxedo coat and white shirt with little pleats down the front made him look like Dad, undercover.