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  Darby knew the guys would blame her preoccupation on her horse. With Hoku carrying a saddle for the first time ever, of course she had to pay attention, but she was really looking down at her saddle because she was embarrassed by her loud singing.

  “I told you we didn’t have coyotes around here,” Cade joked.

  Very funny, Darby thought.

  Cade rode Joker. The gray-and-white Appaloosa almost blocked her view of Pauli Akua. But Darby made out the silhouette of his cockatoo-crested hair.

  Pauli attended her school and he was Tyson Mookini’s best friend, but since Pauli and Cade had become buddies, Darby tried not to hold that other friendship against him.

  After all, Pauli and Cade had pooled their money to buy Jellybean Jewel. Now Jewel lived in a newly repaired and enlarged corral on Cade’s land near Crimson Vale, and she even had a pasture pal, a pony named Honi.

  I know, Darby thought suddenly. She should casually tell the guys about Sugarfoot’s encounter with Gemma Mookini. As Tyson’s friend, Pauli might know enough about the family to guess what they’d do next.

  She was about to mention Sugarfoot when Pauli brought up her singing again.

  “I’m pretty sure I heard howling.” Pauli tilted his head back and started to demonstrate, but Cade thumped him on the shoulder. “What?”

  Cade nodded at Hoku.

  “She’s wearing a saddle,” he said quietly, “for the first time, and she still came up this hill just as pretty as you please. Nice work, keiki.”

  If Cade’s tone hadn’t been so full of admiration, Darby would have snapped at him for calling her keiki. Kimo had been joking with Kit, calling Darby the can-do keiki, and the nickname had stuck. Even if she liked the significance of it—and she did—it made her squirm.

  “Primo,” Pauli said. He gave the saddle a moment of confused study, then shrugged.

  “How’re you doing?” she asked Pauli, since he’d only begun riding a couple of weeks ago. He’d even found a pair of boots that fit him, which was a good thing. When Jonah had seen him riding the first day, with his frayed-hem jeans hanging over sandals with tire-tread soles, he’d forbidden Pauli to ride in shoes without heels the next time.

  “Pretty good,” Pauli said, patting Judge’s neck.

  The old bay horse had come from Nevada with Hoku, and the two were buddies. The filly surged forward to rub her muzzle on his neck. Judge lifted his head and gave Hoku’s mane an affectionate nibble.

  “Whoa!” Pauli yelled, pulling back on his reins.

  “It’s okay,” Darby said.

  “They’re pals,” Cade told him.

  “That was kinda gnarly. I thought he was biting her,” Pauli said.

  “He was, sorta,” Cade said.

  “Love bites,” Darby explained. It was her turn to make the guys squirm, and the simple phrase did the trick. They rolled their eyes like eight-year-olds thinking of cooties, and shifted around on their horses, searching for something to say.

  It was a perfect time to make her getaway, Darby thought, but then Pauli looked at Cade, jerked his cockatoo crest toward Darby, and said, “Ask her.”

  “I told you, it’s okay,” Cade insisted, then turned to Darby. “I told Pauli he could come to the luau on the Fourth of July.”

  “Sure,” Darby said. “It’ll be huge. All my relatives—at least the ones I know about,” she added, since she’d discovered an extended family she’d known nothing about before her arrival in Hawaii. “And the Potters, Patrick Zink, Kimo and his dad—”

  “Good fun,” Pauli said.

  “Guaranteed,” Cade told him.

  Darby laughed. It was nice seeing Cade act like a kid instead of a serious paniolo. “Gotta go,” she said.

  “You can ride with us, yeah?” Pauli offered.

  “Nope. I have instructions from Jonah.” She almost explained that she was supposed to frustrate Hoku, but she was pretty sure a new rider like Pauli would be confused.

  Darby waved good-bye and guided Hoku the back way into the ranch yard—down the switchbacks and up through the fold.

  It was after five o’clock, Darby guessed as she approached the half-built house. Shouldn’t the carpenters be finishing up for the day instead of dragging around orange cords, sweating, and using nods and hollers to communicate over the snarling saws?

  She felt a little guilty for riding around, carefree, enjoying the tropical breeze that lifted her ponytail, while they were hard at work.

  As Darby rode past, Hoku flattened her ears. She still hated most men on sight. She would allow Kit to come within touching distance of her, but she clearly didn’t enjoy it.

  All three of the workers flashed Darby a shaka sign and she returned the gesture.

  She had ridden on only a few steps when one of them started using a nail gun.

  Bam. Bam. Bam.

  Hoku startled away from the loud sound and Darby saw an opportunity to teach the filly that she was safe.

  “You’re fine,” she said in an upbeat tone, neither sympathizing nor criticizing.

  She gathered her rope reins and pulled back. Hoku understood, but she didn’t want to slow down or stop.

  The tallest of the men noticed Hoku’s agitation. He squatted in front of the guy with the nail gun and made a slashing motion across his throat.

  In the sudden silence, Darby felt shy. Her old hiding habit returned without her permission. She shrugged her shoulders almost to her ears, so that she looked like a prairie dog peeking out of its burrow.

  The tall man stood up slowly, pressing both hands to the small of his back. Darby noticed he wore a black support belt. She’d read that they really didn’t work, but this was no time to share that information.

  “Thanks!” Darby yelled, and then kicked herself. There was no need to shout with the power tools turned off. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered to Hoku.

  The filly’s steps were jerky, but she obeyed Darby’s signal to walk to Pigolo’s pen and halt.

  After a single short squeal, Pigolo realized Darby was atop the horse. He snuffled in delight and scuttled toward the fence of his pen.

  “My sweet little piglet!” Darby greeted him.

  Megan accused Pigolo of starting Darby’s life of crime because she’d stolen him from Manny. What else could she have done when she saw Cade’s evil stepfather kicking the orphaned animal? Every instinct had told her to just swoop in and scoop up the piglet.

  He’d been tiny then, and fit tidily in her arms, but now he was about half the size of an Australian shepherd.

  Darby knew that no matter how big he got, she would feel protective of Pigolo. She was 98 percent sure Jonah had been joking all the times he’d referred to cooking Pigolo for the Fourth of July luau, but she’d still be really happy to wake up on July fifth and see his squint-eyed face and twirly tail.

  “We’re just saying hi,” she told Pigolo. “You can go back in the shade now.”

  Pink skin showed through his coarse black-and-white hair, and Darby was afraid he’d get sunburned.

  Hoku watched the pig move up and down his fence. The filly’s ears were backcast and her hindquarters shifted irritably.

  “You are not going to kick him,” she scolded Hoku. “He’s not wild. He’s our friend.”

  Hoku disagreed in a low rumble. When Pigolo lifted his snout, he looked like he was smiling up at her.

  “See?” Darby said, and then she whispered, “You have too many opinions for a horse!”

  Then something made Hoku tense up.

  She backed, then pivoted away from the fence.

  Darby placed a comforting hand on the filly’s mane and gazed around. She didn’t see anything that should have bothered Hoku. The construction guys were packing away their tools. Kimo was riding in from the direction of the fold on Baxter.

  Maybe there’d been a scent on the breeze, Darby thought.

  Francie’s bell tinkled and Jonah shouted “No!” from the tack shed.

  From inside the offi
ce, Aunty Cathy called, “Francie!”

  Francie the goat had learned to lean against her tie rope and saw back and forth until the rope frayed through and broke. She loved the freedom of escape and the fun of having everyone chase her.

  Megan’s solution had been to bell the goat’s collar and shout reprimands each time they heard the frenzied tinkling of her pulling.

  Darby wasn’t sure it was working, but she knew Francie wouldn’t be so mischievous if she knew she’d been mentioned as a possible Fourth of July dinner.

  Darby urged Hoku toward the goat. Hoku’s head stayed high and her ears stood in starched points as they approached.

  “Loosen up, baby,” Darby told Hoku. “If Jonah comes out of the tack shed, you need to show him what a happy horse you are, even if you’re carrying a saddle for the very first time.”

  When Hoku swung her head around toward the new house, Darby looked again.

  “You know Baxter,” she reminded Hoku.

  Kimo had stopped the grulla cow pony next to the construction guys. He leaned forward to catch whatever the tall man was saying. And then Darby felt as uneasy as her horse did.

  The tall man was pointing directly at her.

  Chapter Six

  “She’s okay with that saddle, yeah?” Jonah asked, and there was approval in his voice.

  From Jonah the comment amounted to a standing ovation for Hoku and Darby.

  Darby pulled her gaze away from the carpenter and grinned. “No bucking or anything. Even when we met up with Cade and Pauli on the switchbacks, no problem.”

  Jonah stayed about ten feet away, but Hoku’s edginess was building.

  “She’s had enough,” Jonah observed. “Don’t take her down by Medusa and her brood. She’ll have a breakdown. Put her back in the pasture, then we’re going over to the Potters’ place.”

  “Already?” Darby asked. She’d expected to go tomorrow at the earliest.

  “Cook’s night off.” Jonah gestured toward the ranch office, where Aunty Cathy was working. “Ramona invited us for dinner if we’ll bring that boy Patrick along.”

  “Great!” Darby said.

  Patrick Zink was one of her best friends. He was also one of the smartest. He could probably come up with an idea to save Sugarfoot if his accident-prone nature didn’t land him in the hospital again.

  Happy to be unsaddled, Hoku trotted into the broodmare pasture and rolled, then returned to Darby.

  “This is much better, isn’t it, pretty girl?” Darby asked her horse.

  They’d missed each other when Hoku thought she was being neglected. Darby had been busy with school, Snowfire, Black Lava and his herd, and the sick pony Honi. And though her thoughts were always with Hoku, the horse had no way of knowing.

  “And I have one little surprise. Ann sent it for you.” Darby worked her fingers into her jeans pocket and retrieved the peppermint horse treat.

  Hoku lipped it off her palm, gave a single crunch, then swallowed.

  Just as Darby turned to leave, Koko and Blue Ginger raced by. The mares were playing tag, nipping at one another’s flanks each time they got within range, and Hoku joined in.

  Darby lifted the saddle, sheepskin pad, halter, and lead rope off the grass, feeling contented as she carried them up the path to Sun House.

  Things are going to be okay, she thought. Jonah will diagnose Sugarfoot within minutes and the insurance company will accept his assessment as proof that Sugarfoot can be cured, and the Potters’ Pulling Together program will go on just as smoothly as it had before.

  Darby realized her satisfying scenario left out Gemma and whatever she decided to do, but she’d worry about that later.

  The gear in her arms was starting to feel heavy and she dreaded hauling it all the way back to the tack room, so she was pleased when she reached the top of the path and found Jonah’s brown Land Rover right there idling, waiting for her.

  As always, Darby appreciated the pale owl painted on the truck. The bird soared over the turquoise lettering that spelled out ‘Iolani Ranch.

  She arranged the tack in the vehicle’s cargo area, leaving the backseat for Patrick and his crutches, then climbed into the front next to Jonah and fastened her seat belt. Every surface of Jonah’s truck was shiny and smelled of the coconut oil polish he kept in a niche between the seats.

  Darby leaned back and closed her eyes as Jonah steered the Land Rover slowly away from the path. It felt like days, not hours, since she’d seen Sugarfoot, a whirlwind of cream and gold, zoom toward the fence and frighten Gemma into falling.

  Jonah turned the Land Rover left, onto the frontage road they shared with the Zinks’ property.

  Darby looked at the truck’s dashboard clock. Eight hours, she thought, since Mrs. Mookini had been scheduled for a ten A.M. session.

  In eight hours, Darby had been miserable with guilt, then giddy with possibilities after hearing Petra the pet psychic, frustrated with chores, and singing with pride for her horse’s first day under saddle. When you lived on a ranch, Darby decided, you squeezed a lot of living into eight hours. And that was the way she liked it.

  “I’m getting hungry,” Darby admitted as they drove over a cattle guard.

  “Good thing.” Jonah leaned forward with his chest almost touching the steering wheel as he drove. “Ed promised to show me some real Nevada cowboy cookin’.”

  Tall ohia trees stood side by side, shading the left side of the road. They were almost to Patrick’s house.

  “Ed said he’ll make me the biggest, baddest chicken-fried steak I ever ate,” Jonah said.

  “That’s my dad’s favorite food.” Darby felt a stab of loneliness.

  “Never met ’im,” Jonah said.

  “I wish he could come to the luau,” Darby said, daydreaming of introducing her father to Hoku, Megan, Ann, and everyone else. “Maybe I’ll invite him to come visit”—Darby glanced at Jonah to gauge his reaction—“before my mom moves back here.”

  Jonah didn’t answer, but then, she hadn’t really asked a question.

  Jonah had never met his son-in-law. He hadn’t even met his only grandchild—her—until thirteen years after her birth. It was kind of sad, that a fight between a father and his daughter could go on so long.

  Like it had tentacles, she mused, and then, as Jonah turned left toward the Zinks’ driveway, she saw movement in the shade of the lehua trees.

  In an instant, she saw Patrick’s white pith helmet. She wished Jonah would slow down. Patrick was out of his walking cast and just on crutches and he was trying to hop out of the way. But he couldn’t move too fast. Maybe not fast enough! Jonah would hit him if he—

  “Watch out!” Darby yelled.

  Jonah slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel to avoid Patrick.

  “Killed the engine,” Jonah said, but his hands shook as he restarted the car. He looked at Darby to ask, “He’s okay, yeah?”

  “Sure,” Darby said, but her throat was so tight she barely managed it. If Patrick hadn’t used his crutches like a pole vaulter used a pole, Jonah would have run over him.

  She remembered thinking her first day on the island, when Jonah was driving with her to the docks to get Hoku, that Jonah wasn’t a bad driver, but he was jerky.

  Now that she knew Jonah had poor peripheral vision and had trouble seeing in low light due to an inherited disease, she wondered if that caused his uncertain driving.

  “Let it go,” Jonah snapped, and Darby realized that her hand had closed around the charm on her necklace. It was a winged gold heart the size of Darby’s little fingernail, and she had no memory of grabbing it.

  Darby opened her door. “Sorry!” she called to Patrick as she got out and opened the back door for him.

  “I could drive this road blindfolded,” Jonah muttered.

  “I know,” Darby said, but he couldn’t have seen Patrick and still come so close to him. “Here, I’ll take those.”

  As Darby took Patrick’s crutches, he leaned over and gave h
er a traditional Hawaiian greeting, kissing each of her cheeks before he clambered into the backseat.

  To be fair, Darby told herself, she didn’t know how to drive. Maybe Jonah’s mistake was one that could happen to anybody. But she didn’t think so.

  “Hi, Mr. Kealoha,” Patrick greeted Jonah. When Jonah cleared his throat to speak, Patrick said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to near misses.”

  “How’s the leg? You going to be working for my upstart sister anytime soon?” Jonah asked.

  Patrick had “degloved”—peeled back the skin on—one of his legs in an accident in the rain forest a month ago. Now he rolled on the backseat and bicycle-pedaled his legs in the air.

  “Whatever you’ve been doing, it looks like it’s working.” Darby tried to focus on Patrick’s elation, not Jonah’s failing eyesight.

  “My doctor says I’ll be able to work at the resort in time for the August polo match,” he said in a fluttering voice. “You know, when Philippe comes home.”

  “Ann called and asked if Sugarfoot could hide out at my place,” Patrick announced. “I told her not unless I could see him in action. Of course,” he confided, “that was a fabrication. I would do anything for a friend. I’m loyal to a fault, my father claims, although I can’t think what he bases that on. Until recently, Mistwalker was my only friend.”

  “I’m not real hopeful we’ll change this horse,” Jonah said. He’d turned the Land Rover around and was looking both ways before turning onto the highway, even though there wasn’t another vehicle in sight. “If he’s too much for Wild Ann to handle, the beast is probably beyond breaking.”

  With a burst of acceleration that snapped both passengers’ heads back, Jonah drove onto the highway. Even though the Potters’ place wasn’t too far away, Darby crossed her fingers for luck.

  After they’d been driving for five minutes, Darby saw her grandfather’s shoulders lower. He’d relaxed. Maybe he could see better now.

  “You know what we’re having for our Fourth of July barbecue, Patrick?”

  Darby moaned as her grandfather had known she would.