Kidnapped Colt Page 9

  “Now, where was I?” Brynna said, lifting a sheet from her folder. “Right. Mikki.

  “There’s been no more shoplifting or running away. She’s made up old class work and is passing this semester with a B average. She’s made lots of progress and HARP can take most of the credit, since parental support is kind of…” Brynna wavered one hand back and forth.

  “Inconsistent?” Jen suggested.

  “Yes,” Brynna said. “But Mikki will do fine. She loves Popcorn. He helped set her back on the right path. The only trouble I anticipate is a little jealousy over you, Sam.”

  Sam sat back in surprise. “Jealousy over me?”

  “Jake was here before, but Jen wasn’t and neither was Gina. As much as you and Mikki butted heads, she had you to herself.”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said dubiously. “We didn’t like each other before she set the barn on fire with her stupid smoking,” Sam said. “And that didn’t make me like her more.”

  “But you like her now,” Jen said, tipping her cup up to drain the last of her hot chocolate. “What changed?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said.

  “Think it over,” Brynna encouraged. “It might help with the other girls. Maybe even Gina.”

  In the thoughtful silence, they heard Jake’s chair squeak as he shifted restlessly.

  He froze, then studied his scraped knuckles.

  “Enough discussion,” Brynna said, snapping her folder closed. “You’re off to a good start. Jen and Sam, why don’t you make sure Gina and Mikki are up, and herd them on down for breakfast?”

  “Can I call Sheriff Ballard first?” Sam asked.

  “It’s awfully early,” Gram said as she jabbed a spatula into her skillet.

  “I don’t really expect him to be in his office,” Sam said. “But if he is, don’t you think he’ll be working on finding Hotspot?”

  Sam crossed her fingers. Unlikely as it was, she was actually hoping the sheriff had already found the horses.

  “It would be more productive than calling Linc,” Jen said.

  “Go ahead,” Brynna told Sam.

  “I’ll go get the girls,” Jen offered. As she passed, she slipped a folded piece of paper into Sam’s hand. “But you have to tell me what he said, right away.”

  “I promise,” Sam said.

  As she unfolded the slip of paper, Brynna came over to open the kitchen window.

  “It’s already heating up,” Brynna said.

  Sam didn’t feel warmth, but Jake apparently agreed.

  “Gonna take a walk,” he said, nodding to Gram. “Be right back.”

  Sam didn’t bother hiding Ryan’s number. She’d have to get permission to make the phone call, anyway, if it turned out to be long distance.

  “What’s that?” Brynna asked, peering at the numbers Jen had written on the paper.

  “Ryan Slocum’s cell phone number.”

  For a few seconds, Brynna said nothing.

  Gram stopped cooking, too.

  “What’s your plan?” Brynna asked.

  “I don’t have much of one,” Sam admitted. “I’m just going to call and try to make him feel guilty.”

  Brynna and Gram both burst into laughter, but Sam had no clue what they found funny. Once their chuckles faded into smiles, Brynna asked, “What would be the point of that?”

  “If he knows where the horses are, maybe he’ll tell me. If he doesn’t,” Sam said with a big shrug, “I think he at least owes me an apology.”

  “Fair enough,” Brynna said.

  Sam tried Ryan’s number first. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer, but she left the message she and Jen had rehearsed: “Ryan, it’s Sam. Hotspot and Shy Boots are gone. No one knows where they are. Call me and we’ll put our heads together with Jen and Brynna and my dad and Sheriff Ballard. Call soon. If you wait, it’s like you told me, ‘you’ll only have thrown away a chance to save them.’”

  Sam hung up the phone, then realized the kitchen was unusually quiet.

  Brynna applauded silently. “That ought to do it,” she said.

  “Gracious,” Gram said. “You didn’t give him much room to wiggle out of it.”

  “I hope it works,” Sam said. She held up both hands with fingers crossed, then overlapped her thumbs as well.

  Brynna ran back upstairs to finish getting ready for work, and Sam opened the phone book and looked for Sheriff Ballard’s telephone number.

  As she scanned the dense columns of numbers, Jen and Jake’s voices carried to her through the open window.

  “You know, when Gina committed her burglaries, the only thing she stole was candy.”

  Jake grunted in response and Sam smiled. After her gloomy phone call to Ryan, hearing her best friends bicker really cheered her up.

  “Candy,” Jen repeated.

  Jake wasn’t getting whatever point Jen was trying to make.

  “She stole candy,” Jen said with forced patience. “As if she were trying to get back the childhood she lost with the creation of a new family.”

  Then Sam was pretty sure she heard Jake snort. And she was positive she heard him say, “Stick with horses, Kenworthy. At least they can’t tell you that you’re full of hot air.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sam wasn’t surprised Sheriff Ballard didn’t answer his office phone. She listened to the recording that advised callers with emergencies what to do next.

  “I guess this isn’t an emergency,” Sam said as she hung up and faced Gram. “But I can’t stop thinking about Hotspot and Shy Boots.”

  “You can’t do anything else, dear,” Gram said. “The sheriff has his responsibility and you have yours.”

  The sheriff seemed convinced a wild stallion hadn’t stolen them. A person had. But who?

  Sam stared out the front window, but her eyes lost focus as she reviewed her suspect list from last night. Ryan, Linc, and her. But wait. Jen had known Ryan was planning to hide the horses, because she’d talked with him.

  Had Ryan talked with anyone else?

  And what about Linc? He’d sure noticed in a hurry that the Appaloosas were gone. Maybe Linc had suspected Ryan was up to something. Then Linc might have complained to Karl Mannix. That made Mannix a possible suspect, too.

  Sam shook her head. The list just kept growing.

  “Take your mind off those poor horses by setting the table, won’t you?” Gram suggested.

  Grumbling as she wouldn’t in front of the HARP girls, Sam asked where everyone was supposed to sit.

  “It will be crowded, but you’ll figure it out, dear.”

  Although they’d left the leaf in the kitchen table from the last week of HARP, Brynna, Dad, Gram, Sam, Jen, Jake, Mikki, and Gina would have to sit elbow to elbow around the table.

  Through the open window, Sam heard the girls talking as they crossed the yard. The kitchen door opened and slammed shut as Jake darted back inside ahead of them.

  “What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

  “Nothin’.”

  “Then why are you in such a hurry?”

  “I’m not,” he said, but Sam could guess.

  Jake’s shyness was at its peak.

  “How are you going to teach them if you can’t stay outside long enough for Jen to introduce you?”

  Jake didn’t answer. He watched her set the table as if he found knives and forks fascinating.

  “Don’t make me sit by one of ’em,” he said.

  “Jake,” Sam started to laugh, and tell him to “cowboy up,” but Jake’s shyness was no joke. His pleading look made her give in. “Okay, but if you’re not next to them, you’ll have to face them across the table.”

  “Thanks,” he said. But even when Brynna introduced him to Gina and asked if he remembered Mikki, even when Gina had to be cautioned to quit playing with her food and Jen talked about her summer school class, Jake kept his eyes on his breakfast.

  Sam sipped her orange juice and studied him.

  It was hard to believe thi
s was the same Jake who’d bossed her around for half her childhood, the same teasing Jake with mischievous mustang eyes.

  Come to think of it, though, his confidence grew around horses. Just when she thought she’d figured out some key to Jake’s personality, Dad spoke up.

  “Heard about Slocum’s horses?” he asked Jake.

  He’d seen the flyer, of course, but Dad’s question made Jake become alert. He quit contemplating his food—which was nearly gone anyway—and lively interest shone in his brown eyes.

  “Yeah,” Jake said.

  He didn’t seem to notice that his low voice stopped all other conversation.

  “Did Sheriff Ballard call you to look at the crime scene?” Sam asked.

  “No.”

  “You’ve got to go look,” Sam said. “There’s tire tracks where we left the trailer, and the trailer had been messed with. I just know it. The latch was stubborn and Ryan had to lean down on it to make it close. And up in the box canyon—” When Sam snatched a breath, Brynna cut in.

  “I’m not sure you can call it a crime scene, Sam. The sheriff didn’t seem to think so.”

  “Wait,” Mikki said. “I know how to tell.” Mikki had slept her blond hair into a woodpecker crest, but her kelly green T-shirt made her look bright and awake. “Did he put up yellow crime scene tape like they do on television?”

  “No,” Sam conceded. “But something happened there and Jake is a really great tracker. He can see things in the dirt that are just invisible to other people.”

  Mikki and Gina studied Jake with new interest. Jake’s glare told Sam he didn’t appreciate the spotlight she’d thrown on him.

  “Anyway, Sheriff Ballard should have asked you to look,” she told Jake.

  Ignoring her, Jake returned to staring at his plate.

  Jen’s exasperated sigh told Sam that she was thinking the same thing. Horses had better be the key to opening Jake up, or it was going to be a very long week.

  Brynna started out the door for work at Willow Springs Wild Horse Center before the girls had finished breakfast.

  “I’m going to get started on this,” she said, brandishing the flyer as if it had restored her energy. “With luck, we’ll be able to hand some out tonight.”

  “You still thinkin’ about goin’ down to that preview night at the carnival?” Dad asked.

  Sam didn’t know what preview night at the carnival was, but it sounded fun and Brynna’s smile was so brilliant, Sam knew her stepmother was feeling herself again.

  “That’s my plan,” Brynna said. “Grace, don’t even think about making dinner. We’re going out!”

  “We are?” Sam asked.

  “You deserve a reward for starting work so early,” Brynna answered. “Besides, last night I didn’t feel too well, so I was sort of a party pooper. Tonight will be different. I promise.”

  Brynna was already pulling away in her white government truck as the girls left the house.

  They’d just stepped onto the front porch when Popcorn’s neigh floated over to them.

  “Look at him,” Mikki said. “He’s so beautiful.”

  “I get to work with him first, right?” Gina asked.

  Mikki stopped as if the question had hit her like a bucket of cold water. Glancing at Gina, Sam saw that the other girl wasn’t trying to be mean. She’d just used that fact to grab everyone’s attention.

  “Right, Gina,” Sam told her. “And it’ll be tough brushing the grass marks off his coat, but you’ll do it.”

  Jen must have noticed what was going on, too.

  “Why don’t you go catch him and bring him in,” Jen suggested to Mikki.

  “Me?” Mikki touched her chest. Her expression flickered between excitement and fear.

  “Sure,” Sam encouraged her. “You’ve done it before.”

  Ace had come to the fence, too. Together the albino and bay trotted a few steps off, but their ears pricked toward the group, ready for something to happen.

  “Do you think he’ll remember me?” Mikki asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “Jake, what do you think?”

  “Might,” Jake said.

  To Sam’s surprise, Mikki took the single word as encouragement.

  “Okay,” Mikki said. “I’ll do it.”

  Jen and the girls set off for the barn to get halters, lead ropes, and plastic buckets full of grooming supplies. When Jake started to follow, Sam grabbed his sleeve.

  “We have to find the Appaloosas,” Sam told him, then braced herself for his refusal.

  “I heard Linc tried to blame you,” Jake said instead.

  His jaw was set. Was he angry, or frustrated at the stupid accusation?

  “He did. And even though the sheriff tried to talk him out of it, I—”

  I’m still to blame. Those horses shouldn’t have been up there and they wouldn’t have been up there if I hadn’t shown him the way, Sam thought.

  That’s what Sam wanted to say, but she knew the tears crowding her eyes would spill over if she did. So she just stopped talking.

  “Don’t take it so hard, Brat. They’ll turn up.”

  Jake’s understanding made Sam feel even sorrier for herself.

  “And that guy Karl Mannix who works for Linc,” she went on, “have you met him? He’ll creep you out, for sure. Don’t smirk, Jake. He will.”

  “I can feel the hair standin’ up on the back of my neck already,” Jake said with a straight face.

  “I bet you”—Sam stalled, pointing an index finger at Jake and trying to think of something she wanted to win from him—“I bet you a cotton candy at the Fourth of July carnival that he’ll give you the creeps.”

  “I’ll risk it,” Jake said, shaking her hand in agreement.

  “Anyway,” Sam went on, “I bet Mannix is the one Ryan overheard his dad talking to about culling Shy Boots. What is culling, anyway?”

  Jake shifted his jaw to one side, looking thoughtful. “Lot of times, it’s weeding out animals that don’t fit in with your breeding program. Puppies that are too small, horses with bad conformation. But are you sure that’s what he said?”

  “Ryan heard him on the phone,” Sam said, but Jake’s small shrug reminded her that Ryan didn’t always tell the truth.

  “Just as long as you know it makes no sense, putting down a colt with his bloodlines,” Jake said, then fell silent.

  Sam watched Jake think. Once his curiosity started, it was like an itch.

  Oh yeah, Sam thought. They might be going up to the box canyon, after all.

  Sam heard the others returning from the barn, but she didn’t take her eyes off Jake.

  Jake didn’t like Ryan. Part of his dislike had to be jealousy, since Ryan could buy everything Jake worked so hard for. But part of it, Sam conceded, was instinct. Ryan was untrustworthy. Jake had seen that in their first meeting.

  Jake shrugged as if trying to shake off a persistent thought.

  “It’d make sense to check the wild herds. That Appy mare ran loose for a while. Might be she’s thinking freedom looks good, now her foal’s born.”

  Sam nodded, but she knew how to add a little irritation to his curiosity.

  “Don’t worry about that,” she said. “Brynna said BLM would watch for them.”

  Jake gave a snort. “BLM won’t take the time.”

  “Brynna said it’s too expensive to put up a helicopter, but—”

  “More likely, BLM won’t bother, ’cause they’re too busy tellin’ ranchers what to do.”

  Confrontations between the federal agency and ranchers didn’t happen every day, but the animosity between them was never far beneath the surface. More than once, Sam had even seen it between Dad and Brynna.

  Sorry, Brynna, Sam apologized silently, but she could see her plan working. Jake was on the verge of thinking this was his own idea.

  “I say we ride out and check a few herds ourselves,” Jake suggested. “I just got a hunch.”

  “Great,” Sam said instantly
. “But what are we going to do about”—she broke off and gestured at Mikki and Gina—“working?”

  “We don’t work ’til five thirty,” Jake pointed out.

  “Not—” Sam’s mind spun as she realized what he meant. “Jake, I’m not sure there’s oxygen before five thirty in the morning.”

  He ignored her dismay.

  “I’ll talk to Brynna,” Jake offered. “The sooner the better. I’ll ask about tomorrow.”

  Sam knew it was the right thing to do. Sheriff Ballard had said the first twenty-four hours after a disappearance were critical, so if they couldn’t ride out today, early the next morning would be best.

  “How early?” Sam asked, bracing herself.

  Jake squinted. “An hour out, hour back, and no guarantee of what’ll happen in between…I’d say we could leave at three and maybe have a chance of seein’ something.”

  “Three o’clock in the morning!”

  “You’re right,” Jake taunted, “I should probably go alone. Not like I can’t recognize a papered Appy.”

  “Jake, what makes you think I’d let you go out to the Phantom’s herd without me?”

  “You’re too lazy to get up.”

  “Play nicely, children,” Jen interrupted as she arrived with Gina and Mikki.

  Jake’s teasing expression fell away and Sam sighed.

  “Fine,” she told him. “I’ll sleep when I’m old.”

  “Sam?” Mikki’s whisper cut through Sam’s self-pity.

  “I’m not sure I remember how to catch Popcorn.” She lifted the halter, keeping her back to Jen and Gina.

  “You’ve already got his attention,” Sam said, and pointed.

  From the center of the pasture, Popcorn’s blue eyes watched Mikki. He swished his tail, stamped a front hoof, but didn’t look away.

  Sam opened the gate and beckoned Mikki through.

  “Just use his name, show him the sweet grain, and you’re home free.”

  “Here goes nothing,” Mikki said, and then she was walking through the pasture.

  Mikki looked up at the sky. It was turning blue now, showing white cotton-ball clouds. Sam could tell there was no place else Mikki would rather be.

  “Shake the grain can a little bit,” Jen called to her. “Good, like that, and hold the halter down by your leg.”