Secret Star Page 8

  A snort sounded outside. A stallion’s snort.

  Sam swung her legs out from under the covers. Her bare feet barely grazed the floor before she was at her window, pushing her curtain aside.

  Be him, she pleaded silently.

  She stared into the darkness, toward the bridge.

  Nothing moved except the river.

  She couldn’t see much of the ranch yard from here, so she listened. She heard restless hooves and the snort came again.

  It was probably Bayfire, tense and puzzled, on this first night in a strange place with unknown horses. Only Inez was familiar to him, and he’d decided she was no longer his friend.

  What was the bay stallion thinking, Sam wondered.

  Horse thoughts, about food and family? But Inez was his only family.

  That’s it, Sam thought, yawning. From birth, Bayfire had trusted Inez to be his herd leader, to feed him, protect him, and entertain him. Now he needed something else, something he couldn’t explain to her, and she wasn’t coming through for him.

  Sam told herself to quit thinking in circles. Tomorrow, they’d get busy and change Bayfire’s attitude, or at least his daily routine.

  They’d start the morning with a hill ride for fitness and a trip to Mrs. Allen’s hot springs for relaxation. For socialization, the stallion would have Ace and Witch. And, if they were lucky, the Hollywood horse would experience some nose touching over the fence with captive wild horses at the Blind Faith Mustang Sanctuary.

  Sam blew her breath against the window. It was just cold enough to condense, and she used her fingertip to draw the outline of a horse. She couldn’t see how well she’d done because her room was so dark.

  He’s not himself, Inez had said about her stallion, and Jake had accused her of the same thing. Maybe they were both wrong.

  Maybe Inez was expecting the stallion not to act like a horse.

  And maybe Jake, not her, was the one who’d changed.

  Where did that come from? she wondered.

  Jake had been her friend for as long as she could remember. Even though he could be infuriating, she could always count on him.

  Before today, she might have told herself Jake didn’t let his life get crazy. She’d often thought that was because he was the youngest of six boys. Since his parents had had five other boys to practice on before they got to him, he’d just turned out just right.

  That might still be true, but he was acting different today, almost as if cutting his hair had changed him.

  No, Sam thought, yawning, it had to be the other way around. Jake had cut his hair because he was changing. She wasn’t sure she liked the difference, but going away would be a lot harder for him than it would be for her.

  Her mind was too muddled to keep going.

  Sam crawled back into bed and pulled up the covers against the night wind and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  They didn’t ride out early the next morning.

  Sam, Jake, and Inez had been reviewing their plans for Bayfire for about an hour.

  They sat wedged in Inez’s camper with cups of tea and microwaved breakfast sandwiches.

  “These are delicious,” Sam said as she licked a gooey string of cheese from one finger. “But you can never tell my Gram I had it. Deal?”

  “Of course,” Inez said, then she smiled at Jake.

  Sam loved the playhouse coziness of the camper with its bed on a shelf and mini kitchen, but Jake kept bumping his shoulders. He just didn’t fit.

  “So, here’s what we’ve got to figure out,” Sam went on. “What does it mean—in Bayfire’s world—to be a stallion?”

  “That’s like asking, What does it mean to be a man?” Inez said.

  “Right,” Sam said. She squinted out the camper window at Dad and the hands, gearing up to go back to the hayfield once more. “Like, my dad—”

  Jake gave a short laugh. “You’re answering what it means to be a man?”

  “Look, Jake,” Sam told him. “I happen to have a perfect example. Really. Like my dad usually loves his job, because mostly it is cowboying. But right now he hates haying, but he has to do it to feed the cattle, and since he’s selling some off as a cash crop, he has to do it to feed his family, too.”

  “Yeah?” Jake said, as if the example didn’t make any sense at all.

  Apparently Inez agreed with him.

  “I’m trying to follow you, Sam, but you’re confusing me. I understand the part about Bayfire having a job, but he doesn’t have a family.”

  “Of course he does,” Sam insisted. “It’s you. You’re his herd of one, and even though you’re asking him to do something he doesn’t want to do, for the most part, he’s doing it.”

  “Okay,” Inez said, though Sam could tell the explanation still hadn’t clicked for her.

  Jake was starting to get it. As usual, though, he kept quiet.

  That didn’t mean he stayed still. Jake jiggled one foot. He leaned back. He tried to link his hands behind his neck. He banged his elbow on a cupboard.

  “In the wild,” Sam explained to Inez, “a stallion’s job is a constant battle, for food, for mares, and for territory.”

  “She’s right,” Jake admitted, but Inez looked at Sam and Jake as if they were speaking some Western dialect she couldn’t understand.

  “Is that all?” she asked.

  Sam thought for a minute, and a revelation hit her.

  “No, they have fun, too! They play in the river, roll in the dust or the mud, and run for the pure joy of it. If we give him today and tomorrow to enjoy himself, maybe he’ll be ready to work the next day.”

  Inez rubbed absently at her injured shoulder and tilted her head to one side.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Inez said. “At first his work was like play, but maybe that’s changed.”

  Jake shot to his feet, hunching his shoulders and keeping his head low so he didn’t bang it on the camper’s ceiling.

  “Chuck my idea outta the window if you like, but here’s what I think,” Jake told Inez. “He’s a horse. Maybe he just needs time to act like one.”

  By the time they made their way out of the camper, Dark Sunshine and Tempest were neighing for breakfast.

  Sam hurried toward the barn. Before they left to take care of Bayfire, she had to care for her own horses.

  “Come and get it!” Sam called. Dark Sunshine and Tempest followed Sam’s voice into the barn.

  Sunny nickered her approval as if she could measure the extra half scoop of grain with her eyes, and barely noticed Sam locking the door that would have allowed them to go back out and keep Bayfire company over the fence.

  Jake had Witch saddled and ready for the trail. He’d tied her where Bayfire could see her, and by the time Sam emerged from the barn, Jake had caught Ace and was leading him to stand beside Witch.

  “Now you want me to saddle your horse,” Inez said as she took Ace’s saddle and bridle from Sam.

  “Just to make Bayfire jealous,” Sam said.

  “Uh-huh,” she teased. “Well, I think you’re just trying to get out of a little work.”

  Bayfire watched Inez, though he pretended not to.

  Sam looked over in time to see the stallion bob his head, then extend his neck, looking to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

  “Yes, it’s true,” Sam called to the stallion. “She’s saddling another horse.”

  “Sam, that’s embarrassin’,” Jake said.

  “Look,” Sam retorted, “Bayfire might not understand what I’m saying, but he knows Inez is paying attention to Ace, not him.”

  “Next, you think I should go in and clean Bayfire’s corral, right?” Inez asked as she picked up a rake.

  “Yeah,” Jake said, unlatching the corral gate. “He’s not actin’ aggressive, not like he was yesterday, but if he tries anything—”

  “I remember,” Inez said, but Sam knew Inez wouldn’t use the rake against her beloved horse unless her life was in danger.

&n
bsp; Eyes fixed on the stallion, Jake eased the gate open so Inez could enter the corral. The bay stallion saw her coming and trotted to the far fence. Then he turned his tail on her.

  “Whistle while you work,” Jake suggested.

  “I’m a lousy whistler,” Inez said, but she made a breathy sound between pursed lips and started raking.

  Bayfire stamped. He swished his black tail and called to Witch, who flattened her ears in reproof.

  So much for socializing, Sam thought, but Inez’s part of the scheme was working.

  Bayfire glanced back over his gleaming right shoulder. Inez ignored him. The stallion glanced over his left shoulder. Inez pretended she hadn’t noticed.

  Amazed, the stallion turned to face her, but kept his distance.

  “Hey there,” Inez said to the horse, and now she was raking nothing but dirt.

  The plan was working perfectly, and when the stallion extended a forefoot as if he’d take a step, Inez leaned the rake up against the fence and stuck her hands in her pockets.

  “This is really weird,” she said. “It’s like starting over again with a new horse.”

  It had been Inez’s idea not to use Bayfire’s name and to keep her hands in the pockets of her jeans so that she couldn’t accidentally give him a signal.

  “That’s right, boy,” Inez said as the horse came a step closer, “you’re just a regular old saddle horse today, nothing special.”

  Sam gave a quick glance at Ace. He wasn’t looking at her. He pulled against his tied reins and stretched his lips, hoping he had enough slack to catch a piece of straw that was blowing along the ground just out of reach.

  A sniff made Sam look back at Inez and Bayfire.

  The stallion had slung his head over her shoulder, and though she still kept her hands in her pockets, Inez rubbed her temple against the stallion’s neck.

  “It’s like a reunion,” Sam whispered to Jake. “He doesn’t like being mad at her.”

  “He doesn’t like being ignored,” Jake corrected.

  Still, they stared at each other and smiled. Step one had worked just fine.

  As they rode past the house on their way out of the ranch yard, Gram called out, “Inez, would any of your crew members in Alkali like to come out here for dinner?”

  “Thanks Mrs. Forster—”

  “Please, call me Grace,” Gram suggested.

  “Thanks Grace, but there are only five of them, and from what they tell me, they’ve set up pretty comfy headquarters in Clara’s parking lot. They’re making field trips out to the spot in Lost Canyon where we’re supposed to shoot, but other than that, it sounds like they’re shoveling down chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, and all kinds of fresh cakes and pies at Clara’s.”

  “Humph,” Gram said, narrowing her eyes in a competitive frown. “That doesn’t mean they can’t drive out for a single dinner. I always have plenty.”

  “I’m sure the food isn’t half as good as yours,” Inez assured Gram. “They’re just doing their part, trying to keep good relations with the folks in Alkali, in case we have to come back for a reshoot,” Inez explained. “Some people don’t like film companies moving in and stirring things up, especially in small towns.”

  “I haven’t heard a single complaint,” Gram said. “And I would have, if things weren’t going the way they were supposed to.”

  “That’s good, but I wouldn’t blame them if they were glad to see us go. We have all these electrical cords and bright lights that can turn night into day, and we need places to park huge trucks and, well, even though the little store there doesn’t have much of what they want, Clara does. So, by spending time and money there and showing people we can be nice instead of stereotypical Hollywood snobs”—Inez paused and shot Jake a smile when he loudly cleared his throat—“we can make sure we’re welcome.”

  “That makes sense, I suppose,” Gram said. “But please don’t hurt my feelings by not coming to dinner yourself.”

  “I shouldn’t impose a second night,” Inez said. “Really, I have a little kitchen in my camper and I’ve trained myself to open cans and run the microwave.”

  “Do that, Ms. Garcia,” Gram said, folding her arms and tapping her toe, “and you’ll have gone past hurting my feelings directly to insulting me.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to do that,” Inez said with a laugh.

  “Dinner’s at six,” Gram said, and then, just before closing the door, she called, “Jake, I mean you, too, of course.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Jake shouted back over his shoulder.

  Sam was smiling, feeling relaxed and cheerful, when Gram had to go and spoil her happy mood by adding, “After all, Jake, we don’t know if we’ll have you around here for dinner next August. This might be our last summer together, so we’d better make the most of it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  All day, they worked Bayfire up and down the mesas.

  At first the horse was a little hesitant. He moved quickly and powerfully, but his head swung from side to side, scanning the ground behind boulders and stands of pinion pine.

  Inez wore a dark-green baseball cap with her black ponytail poked through the back. Her hands were quiet on the reins and she tried to ride wordlessly, so that Bayfire wouldn’t search her sounds for commands. But when the horse seemed to almost tiptoe, alert to the faintest flicker of birds’ wings, her lips curved into a defeated smile.

  Finally, Jake rode alongside Inez.

  “What’s he looking for?” Jake asked.

  “Cameras,” she muttered.

  Sam barely heard, because she was riding ahead, but she turned in the saddle and watched.

  It was weird to see a horse act self-conscious, but Bayfire definitely understood that all eyes were on him.

  While she watched Bayfire, Ace picked their next trail.

  “Not that one!” she gasped.

  “What’s up?” Jake called, before Sam had pulled Ace to a stop, her hands fumbling on the reins.

  “Uh…,” Sam stalled. She wasn’t about to tell Jake that if they continued up this dusty smudge in the hillside they’d pass through the tight stone tunnel she’d been thinking about just last night, the one that ended at the Phantom’s secret valley.

  With a scuff of hooves, Bayfire stopped, too. Ears on alert, forefeet clearing the ground, he pivoted on his hind legs.

  “Uh,” Sam repeated.

  She tried not to squirm beneath Jake’s stare. She was a bad liar, and a lot was at stake. Her best bet was to offer some version of the truth.

  “I’ve seen wild horses up here,” Sam said. She faced Inez and let Jake look at the back of her brown Stetson. “I’m not sure it would be a good idea for Bayfire to meet up with them. Especially with another stallion. What do you think?”

  Inez leaned forward in the saddle, pressing the stallion down from his half rear, then nodded her agreement and continued riding Bayfire just as she would any other horse who’d done something unexpected.

  Only once, when he crowded Witch and got kicked, did Inez slip and call the stallion by name.

  “He knows better than that,” Inez said, petting the stallion’s shoulder and leaning forward to check for scratches or wounds.

  “So does she,” Jake said, in a voice so tight that Sam looked over to see why.

  Jake was blushing. His mahogany skin turned darker and his jaw was set. He must have been distracted, too.

  “They’ve all worked pretty hard,” Inez said. “Maybe it’s time to head toward those hot springs.”

  “Good idea,” Sam said.

  She didn’t check with Jake, because she could see he’d already started his version of scolding Witch. He backed her, turned her, and backed again, reminding her he was the rider and she was the obedient horse.

  Ace tightened beneath Sam. She felt his muscles tense as he looked at a level, open stretch of range.

  “You’ve been a good boy all morning,” she said to him. “Wanna run?” Ace jerked his muzzle hi
gh and snorted. “I’m going to let him out here,” Sam told Inez, so that she wouldn’t be surprised if Bayfire tried to follow.

  And then she did.

  The little gelding swept into a gallop, and Sam heard hooves behind her, but Bayfire wasn’t catching them. When Sam risked a quick glance back, she saw the stallion’s gallop was more picturesque than swift, as if he heard theme music in his head, accompanying each reach and recoil of his fine legs.

  When Inez and Sam finally rested the horses by stripping off their saddles and riding them bareback into the hot springs on Mrs. Allen’s ranch, Jake stayed astride Witch, away from the edge.

  “Are you punishing her?” Sam asked.

  Jake shook his head. “No, just in case something changes, one of us should be mounted up.”

  Sam wasn’t sure that made sense, until Bayfire blew through his lips while watching Witch. Was he trying to get her attention?

  If so, it probably wasn’t working the way he wanted it to, Sam thought. The mare flattened her ears and feinted a bite his way.

  “Does she like anyone?” Inez asked quietly.

  “She likes Jake,” Sam said, swishing her bare feet in the water around Ace.

  “Mostly,” Jake said.

  Inez laughed, then threw one leg over her horse’s neck and slipped off into the water beside him. With only a small splash, she let her head go under the warm water.

  “This is heaven,” Inez said as she emerged, hair and clothing soaked, face beaded with water. “The bottom is kind of slimy,” she admitted, shivering as if her toes were gripping something unpleasant, “but do you know what you’d pay for a horse and rider spa in Los Angeles?”

  “I have no idea,” Sam said, wondering if there really was such a thing.

  “Me either, but I know it wouldn’t be free!” Inez was still laughing when Bayfire joined in the fun.

  Tossing his black forelock away from his eyes, the stallion backed a few splashing steps before giving Inez a hard nudge between the shoulder blades. The push knocked Inez, face first, beneath the surface again.