The Renegade Page 8

  A white smile showed in his rain-wet face. Thoughts of wild horses made her think Jake shouldn’t be confined, either.

  Jake liked school and excelled at everything that would make him the good rancher his family wanted him to be, but he wanted to be a police tracker. Sam thought that kind of far-ranging work would suit him best.

  A rasping cry sounded overhead and Jake looked up. The hawk had no time for dropping feathers today. Her rounded red tail shifted like a rudder as she sought the safety of her nest.

  “Did you send a wish?” Jake shouted, but Sam shook her head. “Hawks carry hopes and prayers to the sky spirits, then bring back blessings. That’s what the old ones say.”

  Jake’s words were proof he was feeling as wild as the storm winds. He rarely mentioned his Indian heritage, and Sam knew if she asked him a question now, he’d shrug off the hawk as just part of a story.

  The horses galloped through groups of cattle running in sheer joy. With rain spattering their red backs, calves cavorted, holding their tails straight up in the air.

  Sam knew she should be afraid to gallop. She wasn’t the world’s greatest rider, and much of the topsoil had blown away, leaving slippery clay underfoot.

  They headed away from the highway and the trail to War Drum Flats. Jake still rode ahead, but now his black hair hung below his Stetson, lying straight and wet to the middle of his back. Teddy’s hair was wet, too, and his Bashkir heritage showed in the little C-shaped curls on his rump.

  The trail to the canyon was narrow and rough, no place to take a young horse like Teddy.

  “Let’s turn back,” Jake shouted over the hammering rain. His voice was serious.

  A single bolt of lightning zigzagged overhead, turning the world aquarium green. Teddy fought for his head, pulling against the reins Jake kept snug.

  There wasn’t a trace of fun on Jake’s face anymore. He concentrated on telling Teddy what to do.

  Sam slowed Ace, giving Jake room to work.

  Once he had Teddy’s attention, Jake forced him to back, to sidestep, anything to remind him his rider was in charge.

  Squinting through the rain, Sam saw Teddy begin to relax. Fear drained out of him as he did as he was told. Each time he followed Jake’s instructions, Teddy was rewarded. The reins loosened, the bit sat lighter in his mouth, and Jake praised him.

  “There you go, partner. Let me do the worryin’,” Jake said.

  Teddy did, and soon Jake moved him through his gaits with fluid grace, then kept him at a jog.

  “That,” Sam told Ace, “is the difference between a rider and a horseman. Stick with me a few years and I might be one-tenth that good.” She rubbed Ace’s neck.

  Only after they’d jogged through the rain for five minutes did Jake glance back at Sam.

  “Keep your hood up, since you didn’t have the sense to wear a hat.” He tugged down on his own hat brim, but didn’t give her time to argue. “We need to get in before there’s more lightning.”

  Jake let Teddy gallop. Ace followed, lining out like a racehorse, legs reaching, head level. She trusted Ace to find the best footing. Unlike Teddy, Ace’s life had once depended on his instincts.

  Still, Sam reminded herself to sit back in the saddle. She was too far forward. If Ace veered or stumbled, she’d fall and Jake would be halfway home before he noticed she was missing. At this pace, they’d cover the five miles to River Bend in no time.

  The sky brightened as if lightning was racing above the clouds.

  Jake let Teddy out another notch and angled him away from the path home.

  It must be because of the lightning. Sam knew you were supposed to stay away from trees, from telephone and power poles, and seek low ground.

  That’s just what Jake had done, she saw now. He’d steered Teddy into a dry riverbed.

  Usually dry. Sam looked around at the low, sandy area. This cloudburst had already turned a few of its dips to puddles. As a child, she’d heard radio broadcasts interrupted by high-pitched signals and an announcer warning against flash floods. She knew that voice had mentioned the dangers of riverbeds.

  Ace’s run turned choppy, responding to the worry that had tightened Sam’s grip on the reins. Starting at her head, working down through her neck, shoulders, and arms, Sam forced her muscles to loosen. Dad had trusted Jake to bring her out here.

  “Just follow them,” she told Ace. “We’ll be fine.”

  The riverbed narrowed and the banks were nearly as high as the horses’ backs.

  Dead ahead was a boulder. Sam saw it an instant before Teddy jumped. Too small for the leap, Ace cut through a narrow detour and sprinted ahead. Sam glanced back in time to see Teddy fall.

  His jump had been fine. Teddy had cleared the boulder easily, but his front off hoof struck a puddle. Teddy slid, hundreds of pounds of horseflesh sliding on watery mud.

  Jake shifted his weight left, trying to give Teddy the help he needed to get centered. Nothing helped.

  “Jump!” Sam screamed.

  Jake could have, poised to the left as he was, but he stayed with the falling horse. As Teddy’s hooves slipped away, his barrel slammed against the right bank. Muscle and bone splattered damp dirt. Teddy grunted, breath knocked from his lungs. Jake’s head--tucked in, chin to chest--said he’d been hurt. The fall was smashing his leg between the horse and the riverbank.

  Sam pulled Ace to a stop, though she wasn’t sure what to do. All four hooves had slid from beneath Teddy. Since Jake had stayed astride, he must be okay. But Teddy’s legs thrashed. Was one of those legs broken? Had Teddy ruptured an internal organ or stabbed himself on broken brush? Or was he just struggling to get up?

  Only five miles home, she’d thought a minute ago. Now, five miles seemed an impossibly long distance.

  Jake stayed on as Teddy heaved himself up to stand. Jake’s hat was gone. He stared down at his saddle horn, and his arms looked boneless, swaying as the horse trembled.

  Sam tightened her legs, but Ace didn’t want to go closer.

  “C’mon, boy, nothing to be afraid of.” Sam kept, her voice strong. “Teddy needs your company. You’re a levelheaded guy. C’mon, Ace.”

  Thunder grumbled as she reached them, but no lightning flashed. There was just enough light to see rain running down Jake’s forehead into his eyes. He did nothing to stop it. A knot of muscle stood out under his skin, showing how hard his jaw was clenched.

  “Jake, what hurts?”

  It must be everything, she thought, because Jake kept his jaw locked. Or maybe he was afraid that if he opened his mouth he wouldn’t be able to stop yelling.

  “My horse okay?” he asked, finally.

  “Sure. He’s up. He’s fine.” Sam dismissed his question, until she noticed Jake’s boot hanging free of his stirrup. “What about your leg?”

  “Check him.” The effort it cost Jake to say the words made Sam do it.

  There was no sense arguing. Jake’s concern for himself would wait until he knew Teddy was safe.

  Sam turned Ace. They circled Teddy, and though the cloud-strained evening light made everything look black and white, she could tell he was only a little scuffed.

  “A cut on his fetlock and lots of mud. That’s it,” Sam reported, and then her breath caught.

  She saw blood. It was Jake’s. A dark patch about the size of her fist had welled through the denim covering his thigh, and it was spreading fast.

  “You must have cut your leg when you fell.”

  She wished Jake would talk. When one corner of his mouth jerked, she thought he was about to laugh, but he only nodded.

  “Do you want to stay here while I go get Dad and the truck?”

  Jake was shaking his head no before she finished asking.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Jake. I can tell you’re in pain.”

  He went back to staring at his saddle horn as if it were the most fascinating sight on earth. He took a deep breath, like someone preparing to jump off a cliff, but only uttered a few words.


  “Flash flood could come up,” he managed. “Or lightning. Don’t think--” He looked up at Sam with dark eyes that begged her not to reveal what he was about to say. “Don’t think I could handle him.”

  “Then get down and wait,” she demanded.

  “Don’t think I can do that, either.”

  Dizziness spun through Sam. Jake was in trouble. He must have done more than cut his leg. He might have struck his head. He might have some injury he was hiding from her.

  Sam didn’t know how, to assess his injuries, but she knew she was in charge and they were wasting time.

  “Okay,” she said, but then she felt a flash of pain. If his leg was broken, the bone ends would grate as Teddy moved. Jake would be in agony.

  “I can ride. Just get my hat,” Jake whispered.

  Sam slid off Ace, keeping a grip on the reins as she snatched Jake’s Stetson from the mud. She brushed it off, only smearing it worse, then handed it up.

  Jake didn’t notice.

  Sam remounted, reined Ace close, and leaned over to put Jake’s hat on his wet hair. A wave of tenderness shook her, but Sam refused to let Jake see her distress.

  “Typical cowboy,” she muttered. “The world could be coming to an end and you wouldn’t go outside to watch without your hat.”

  “You got--” Jake grimaced as Teddy shifted. “Got that right. Now lead us outta here.”

  Chapter Ten

  Take’s trust made Sam careful.

  It was up to her to make sure everything turned out all right.

  Sam kept Ace at a walk and searched every inch of earth and sky for danger.

  Familiar clumps of pine and rock outcroppings passed in slow motion. Though no sensible snake would be out in this downpour, she watched for them. The frolicking Herefords posed no threat. They’d formed into tight, unhappy herds. One group moved toward the ranch, driven by the rain. A few more stood in a miserable cluster, tails clamped down, white eyelashes blinking.

  “I guess no one’s come looking for us since we’re such hotshot range riders,” Sam mumbled to Jake. “Why should they worry?”

  Jake didn’t answer.

  Sam rode another few minutes before it struck her they’d be plenty worried if a horse, came home riderless. Sam thought it through. What if she climbed down, gave him a swat, and Ace still didn’t leave her?

  And Jake wouldn’t get off Teddy, even if he could. Pride wouldn’t let him lay suffering in the rain until help arrived.

  Suddenly Jake was beside her instead of following.

  “Faster,” he croaked. The bloodstain on his jeans was spreading.

  Sam wanted to argue, but, his eyes warned her it would be a waste of time.

  Sam clapped her heels to Ace, hoping he’d leap straight into a lope. He did, and Teddy imitated him, skipping the hammering trot that Sam knew could finally break Jake’s will.

  After what seemed like an eternity, a welcome sight appeared on the horizon: smoke, puffing from the chimney at River Bend.

  “We’re going to make it, Jake.”

  Sam didn’t expect an answer. Only once, when Teddy nearly stumbled, did Jake groan as if the sound had been wrenched from him.

  Finally, she let the horses settle to a weary walk.

  Just ahead, the bunkhouse windows glowed yellow. All the hands were in from the range, probably eating dinner.

  As the horses clopped across the bridge, Sam thought she saw Gram’s face peer from the kitchen window.

  Jake held Teddy on a tight rein, refusing to let him pass the front porch for the barn.

  As Sam slid from Ace’s back, the front door opened and Dad stood there.

  “Everything all right?” he asked, looking past her.

  “Jake’s hurt, Daddy. He’s really hurt.”

  It seemed like Dad reached her in a single stride.

  For the first time since that awful sound of bone smashing into the riverbank, Sam let herself cry.

  The next afternoon, the baby blue Mercedes was silent. The windshield wipers swished, but no one talked.

  Jen stayed quiet, thinking her own thoughts, because that was just Jen. Rachel kept her honeydew-fuchsia lips pressed together as if she couldn’t believe she was sharing the same air with the two lame freshmen. Sam was simply exhausted.

  Somehow, she had made it through her morning classes. By lunchtime, though, Sam needed some calories to substitute for sleep. The cafeteria was packed with students wearing new sweaters and jackets it had been too hot to wear until now, and the food lines were disorderly and loud.

  All the noise and high spirits reminded Sam of the calves’ reaction to the rain. Everyone was glad the drought had broken.

  Sam and Jen were balancing their trays and searching for a few feet of table space when Jake’s friend Darrell snagged Sam’s elbow.

  “Hey! I need this hamburger,” Sam snapped. And then she recognized Darrell.

  He was the kind of guy Gram labeled “bad company,” but Sam only knew two things about him. First, he’d taught Jake how to disable a car by pulling loose strategic wires under the hood. Second, Jake didn’t want Sam to know him.

  Today, defying the rain and school policy, Darrell wore an orange tank top and sunglasses. Where was Mrs. Santos when there was a real delinquent around? Sam wondered.

  “What happened to my man Jake?” His index finger hooked the hinge of his sunglasses and pulled them down so he could watch Sam. “I’m hearing bad things.”

  “What have I missed this time? Jen despaired.

  “I was going to tell you when we found a quiet place,” Sam said.

  “This looks quiet,” Jen said.

  It was, because when Jen slammed her tray down next to Darrell’s, Jake’s usual crew made room with amazement as the girls sat down.

  For strength, Sam took a bite of her hamburger, then summed up yesterday’s disaster. She had to explain it quickly. If she pictured the fall and that tortured ride, she’d get weepy all over again.

  “Jake’s horse slipped in the mud and crunched his leg, but Jake insisted on riding back to our place. And so,” she finished, “he had a compound fracture--

  “Ahhh man”--Darrell drew the words out in twisted admiration--”like where the busted bone shoves through the, skin?”

  “Right.” Sam nodded.

  Her stomach didn’t turn over as it had the first time Dad told her what Jake’s bloody jeans had hidden. That was progress. And she tried not to recall how they’d made Jake swallow a dose of pain pills and wait for them to take effect before Dallas and Dad moved him from the saddle to the backseat of Gram’s Buick.

  “And so?” Darrell encouraged her.

  “The emergency room doctor put him in a cast and said he’d be down for a while. The Elys were all there by then, so Dad left before they talked about when he could ride.”

  Darrell made a waving motion as if that didn’t matter.

  “What about driving?” he asked. “We’re supposed to go to Cimmaron for the midnight drag races in a few weeks.”

  “I don’t know. What are drag races?” Sam pictured draft horses pulling heavy loads, but she had a hard time believing Darrell was bereft at the thought of missing such a competition.

  “Like with two cars … going fast as they can in a straight line? Darrell studied Sam for comprehension. “You know.”

  “Not really,” Sam said. She noticed her hamburger was getting cold and began eating again, feeling more ravenous than before.

  “When is he coming back to school?” Darrell asked, with no concern at all for her meal.

  Sam shrugged and kept eating. She wished the crowd of boys would go away so she could talk to Jen, but it was their table.

  Satisfied that they’d leeched the choicest information from her, Darrell and the guys leaned together, talking.

  For a minute, Sam wondered if Jake was still in the hospital. She remembered how scared she’d been in a big white hospital bed after her accident two years ago.

  She’d
been younger, of course, and Jake might not be scared, but he’d hate the limits on his movements. He’d get cranky and restless, though the doctor had said it wasn’t an especially bad break.

  “So that’s where you were when I called last night,” Jen said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Your Gram said you were out riding, so I figured you hadn’t gotten into trouble.” Jen looked at her meaningfully. “You know, over the incident?”

  Sam stared at Jen.

  “The school bus incident?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” Sam hadn’t forgotten really, but the shame she’d felt yesterday had faded. “I’m grounded.”

  “Even after what you did for Jake?”

  Sam considered the question. Her thoughts felt like they were swimming through honey, but she was pretty sure of the answer.

  “All I really did was ride along with him, and even if it had been more, well, I can’t see one teensy act of heroism erasing what Gram and Dad see as a gigantic mistake.”

  The end-of-lunch bell rang through the cafeteria. Sam swallowed the last of her soda and stood. “Better go,” she said. “Who knows what they’d do to me if I added tardiness to my criminal record.”

  It was a crummy day to teach Rachel to ride.

  When Sam arrived home from school, Gram was in a chatty mood. She announced that Jake had been released from the hospital and was resting in his own bed at Three Ponies Ranch. Of course, Sam couldn’t go see him, since Rachel would be arriving soon.

  Gram told Sam that Dad and Dallas were on the range, checking the runny-nosed steers. They could have used Sam’s help, since Jake was missing from the crew, but they’d ridden out without her because she’d still been at school.

  Gram was most excited about her weekend plans. She, Dad, and Brynna were going to the county fair. Gram would compete in the fried chicken cook-off and Dad would meet Brynna’s parents.