Dark Sunshine (6 page)

T
HE RANCH YARD
was flooded with light. Brightness glowed from inside the barn and the kitchen door stood open. The headlights from the Elys' idling truck lit the path from the River Bend bridge to the two-story white house, which looked more welcoming than ever before.

Jake was there. Who else had Gram and Dad called?

From the bridge, Sam saw Dad, Gram, and Dallas talking on the front porch. Blaze barked at her approach, and they all looked up. Dallas gave a salute from the brim of his hat to Dad, then walked across the yard toward the bunkhouse.

“You okay?” Dallas asked as he passed through the beams of Jake's headlights. When Sam nodded, he added, “Horse okay?”

“He's fine. He's a great horse. We just ran into some trouble.” Sam tried to keep her voice from shaking.

“Let me take him,” Dallas said, moving to Ace's head. “You'd best tell the rest of it to the boss. Pronto. He hasn't called out the
whole
county yet, but he needs to know.”

Sam had managed to keep her voice steady, but now, as Dallas led Ace away, her knees felt watery and weak.

Jake still sat inside the truck. She couldn't see his expression, but Sam knew he'd be mad. More like furious. He hated worrying about her, but whenever she told him to stop, he always went ballistic.

Gram had gone back into the kitchen, probably to get on the phone and call off the search. Arms folded, Dad leaned against a porch post, waiting.

This was a Western thing. Ranch life demanded she be self-sufficient and not cause trouble for anyone else.

All I have to do is walk across the yard and explain
. Sam took a few steps, though she wanted to sit down right there in the dirt, pull her knees up, let her forehead rest on them and wait for Dad to come to her. But Sam kept walking. Blaze licked her hand, whining as he bounced along beside her.

“You caught Slocum's horse for him, but that was more than an hour ago,” Dad said.

“Yeah,” Sam answered. If Slocum knew she'd been missing, Rachel would know. The drama would be all over school by the end of first period, but it didn't matter. She'd almost made it to the porch.

“You look a little pale.” Dad uncrossed his arms as he studied her. “How ‘bout sittin' down to tell me what went wrong.”

Sam lowered herself to the top step and pulled her coat close against the wet wind.

Dad leaned down to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Want to go inside?”

Sam shook her head no.

“The rustlers came back. I don't know if they were looking for horses or for me—” Sam heard Dad suck in a breath as if he'd been punched in the stomach. “But I had to hide until they went away.”

“It's all right, honey.” Dad settled on the step beside her. Sam leaned into the circle of his arm and began to tell him everything.

 

It turned out Rachel Slocum didn't find Sam's adventure worth talking about at school. For that, Sam was grateful.

Jake knew, of course, and Dad had insisted Sam describe the truck to Brynna, and Sam had told Jen.

Only one thing changed after that night of hiding. Sam wasn't allowed to go anywhere alone.

That was why, on Tuesday afternoon, Sam stood talking with Jen instead of starting the mile-long walk home.

“You don't have to wait with me,” Sam told Jen. “Gram will be picking me up any minute.”

“And miss all the excitement when the bad guys
come?” Jen twirled the tail of one skinny white-blond braid and peered over the top of her dark-framed glasses. “Oh, no. I missed part one of this adventure. No way are you going to leave me out of part two.” Jen was almost over her cold, and her sharp sense of humor was back.

“I don't think there'll be a part two,” Sam said. “Rangers are looking for the rustlers so they'd be dumb to come back here. Besides, they just want Dark Sunshine, not me.”

“So you're really not scared?” Jen asked.

Sam stood quiet for a minute, taking inventory of how she felt. The terror she'd felt hiding with the horses had faded.

“Not really,” Sam said, and it was the truth, until Jen's emphatic nod.

“Good.”

“Why ‘good'?” Sam asked.

“Thursday we have a half day because of teacher meetings, right?” Jen reminded her. “So, unless you're a lousy friend who doesn't care anything about my feelings or the expert tutoring I'm giving you in math…”

“Take a breath, then get to the point,” Sam said.

“…you'll take me up to the rustlers' trap.”

Sam didn't ask why. Jen's curiosity mirrored her own, and Sam knew that if the situation had been reversed, she would want to ride up and see the site of all the excitement.

Sam had no reason not to go, but she offered a deterrent. “The federal rangers have already been up there, you know.”

Jen rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Suppose they left yellow crime scene tape, or some of that magic dust they use to lift fingerprints?”

“I don't know if they do that. Besides, you want to be a vet, not a cop.”

“I'm keeping my options open,” Jen said. “So you'll do it?”

“I'll do it, but…” Sam lowered her voice as if she might be overheard. “If they'll let me, I want to start gentling Dark Sunshine.”

“I hope you keep her,” Jen said. “Then Silly won't be the only neurotic horse in the neighborhood.”

Jen joked about Silk Stockings, her high-strung palomino, but she loved her as much as Sam loved Ace. Jen had come over after school yesterday to see Popcorn and Dark Sunshine, and she and Sam had been analyzing the mustangs' behavior ever since.

“You've got a lot to undo with the mare, and she's going to be unpredictable for a long time. Miss Olson's smart to use Popcorn with the HARP program. He looks like he has some draft blood.”

“So he should be calmer,” Sam agreed, “once he lets us get near him. And he doesn't have that haunted look.”

Unlike Dark Sunshine
. Sam didn't say the words, just pushed her bangs back and tried not to recall
how the buckskin had wanted to follow the other horses into the trailer. She hadn't cared where they were going, she just hadn't wanted to be left behind.

“Besides,” Sam said, “Popcorn wasn't abused on purpose. They told Brynna they tried to break him just like they'd seen in movies. The day after they got him, they snubbed him to a post, saddled him, and climbed on. He bucked. He ran through a fence. He was impossible to catch, so after a while they just ignored him.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Jen said, pretending to be Popcorn's owner. “I know you've lived free all your life, but let me tie your head at a weird angle, throw something heavy on your back, yank something tight around your middle, and oh, yeah, now I'm going to jump on you! What are people thinking?”

“You're going to be a good vet,” Sam told her friend. “You think like a horse. But Brynna says Popcorn didn't hurt anyone, in spite of all that. In fact, BLM didn't take him away from the adopters—they returned him.”

“Like shoes that didn't fit.” Jen made a growling noise.

“Here comes Gram.” Sam waved at the boatlike Buick coming toward them, but Jen wasn't finished grumbling.

“Some people don't understand horses have feelings,” Jen said.

“I guess not.” But all at once Sam thought not of
Dark Sunshine but of Mikki. Mikki's mother hadn't exactly returned her, but she
had
sent her away.

The seventh grade troublemaker would arrive today for her first session with Popcorn and Jake. She deserved a little sympathy, Sam thought, so she'd give it to her. After all, how hard could that be?

 

Mikki's hands perched on her hips. She wore tight jeans and a pink nylon top that bared her tummy. Someone should tell her it was too short, and that her blond hair was sticking out like wet feathers.

But Jake had already told the girl something, and she didn't like it one bit.

“You want me to sit in the dirt inside that pen, just
sit
there, for an
hour
?” she demanded of Jake. “I hope you're not getting paid for this.”

Jake didn't wear chaps today. He wore clean jeans and a short-sleeved white shirt. He'd even removed his hat to talk with the girl. Now he pulled it on, covering the shiny black hair he tied back with a leather string.

“You're not, are you?” Mikki said, but Jake only walked into the round corral, leaving Mikki outside.

Mikki whirled on Sam. “Why isn't he saying anything?”

Mikki had just arrived, and already Sam was counting the minutes until the girl's counselor came back to collect her.

“Huh?” Mikki said. “What's his problem?”

“My guess is that he's treating you like he would a colt putting up a fuss. He's just waiting for you to finish, so he can go on with business.”

“Like a horse?” Mikki asked.

“Yeah, and I'd say you're lucky. He almost never treats me that well. He really likes horses.”

“Are you joking?”

“Not really,” Sam admitted. “Jake and I grew up together, and he calls me Brat.”

Mikki's lips twisted in a dubious expression. “So should I go in there?” She jerked her thumb toward the round pen.

“In a minute.” Sam held up her finger. What she had to say next would be awkward, but if she kept quiet, the girl could get in big trouble. “My dad's pretty easygoing—”

“Yeah, they all start out that way,” Mikki scoffed.

“Well, he's been like that for thirteen years I know of,” Sam snapped. “Anyway, there's one thing he won't put up with: smoking around the barn.”

“Why should I care? You don't see me smoking.”

“No.” Sam tried to keep her hands from closing into fists. “I don't see it, but you smell like cigarette smoke. If they don't care what you do at that place you're staying, fine, but the straw in our barn could go up like that.” Sam snapped her fingers under the girl's nose. “If Dad catches you smoking, you'll be out of here so fast it'll make your head spin.”

The sparkle in Mikki's eyes said she'd tried to
provoke Sam into losing control. And she'd won.

Get a grip
, Sam told herself as she opened the gate to the round pen. Popcorn sidestepped, eyes rolling. Mikki wasn't the only one who was supposed to get something from HARP. She might not even be the most deserving one.

Popcorn was tall for a mustang, about fifteen hands, and he watched her with crystal-blue eyes. Built like a heavy Quarter horse, the gelding had already started growing a fuzzy winter coat that made Sam think of a stuffed toy. But when Sam leaned her head in to talk with Jake, who sat on the ground to her right, Popcorn backed away a few fearful steps, then banged his whole body against the fence as if to escape.

“You comin' in?” Jake asked.

“No.” Sam heard Mikki behind her, so she leaned down and whispered to Jake, “I'll watch from outside and leave you in here with the wild things.”

Jake grunted and motioned Mikki in. Sam stepped aside, but as Mikki passed, she shot Sam an angry look. She didn't like being left out.

Sam smiled as she withdrew from the corral and closed the gate. One of Jake's horse strategies built on the fact that they were herd animals.

Maybe the technique worked with kids, too.

Sam peered through the slats of the round pen and watched Jake, Mikki, and Popcorn. As usual, Jake didn't waste words.

“Sit there.” He nodded to a place midway between Popcorn and himself. “Lean back. You're gonna be there a while.”

“A whole hour?” Mikki didn't whine now that she was watching the mustang.

“How long ya got?” Jake asked. “He can't trust you if you're never around.”

“Don't I know it,” Mikki said, then plopped cross-legged in the dirt.

Sam glanced at her watch. She'd bet Mikki couldn't sit for five minutes without wiggling or talking.

Two minutes later, Mikki blurted, “What am I supposed to be doing?” Popcorn bolted at her voice, and Mikki made a soft sound of regret. “I'm not doing it right, but I don't know how. Tell me.”

“Not much you can do wrong,” Jake said. “Just watch him. See what he does with his ears, eyes, feet, everything.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

This time, she did.

Sam watched for about twenty minutes. She skipped the snack Gram offered and hurried through her chores. When she returned to the corral, Jake and Mikki were coming out.

Mikki stretched, then shoved her hands in her pockets and looked away from Jake.

“Okay, what did you see?” he asked.

Mikki shrugged.

“Don't interpret, just say what you noticed.”

“What's the point, if I don't know what it means?” Mikki shrugged again. “He just stood there.”

Sam wished she had a video camera so she could show Mikki herself “just standing there.” Besides shrugging and jamming her hands in her pockets, the girl kept her gaze focused over Jake's shoulder. She looked worried, not sassy.

Sam would bet Mikki didn't venture a description because she didn't want to be wrong. She was acting just like the troubled horse inside the corral.

“What about his eyes?” Jake asked.

“Okay,” Mikki almost shouted. “He had lines over his eyes, like he was worried, and he didn't like it when I looked right at him.” Mikki licked her lips. “He looked away if he caught me staring. Then, when I looked at something else and checked back, he'd be watching
me
. Then the whole thing started over again.” Mikki rattled off the words, daring Jake to contradict her. “So what?”

“Anything else?”

“When I moved my hands or feet, just trying to keep them from getting all pins and needly, he scooted away.” Mikki looked down. “And that's dumb. He knows he can't get out of there.”