Dawn Runner (4 page)

A
horse galloped far off in the distance, where the bone-white
playa
met blue Nevada sky.

Sam spotted it after she and Ryan had left Gold Dust Ranch, turned left, and started driving toward River Bend Ranch. She'd been staring in the direction of Lost Canyon, wondering if Pam and her mother had arrived yet.

It probably wasn't a mustang. Not in the late afternoon. Not in this heat. Not out in the open. Mustangs craved shade and coolness just like other animals.

Did the horse have a rider she couldn't make out through the dust and distance? Was it really even there? She could be so fixated on the Phantom that
she was seeing things. It wouldn't be the first time.

Sam pulled her eyes away from the fleet figure. Then she turned sideways, shoulder to the windshield, as Ryan repeated a question he was asking for the second time.

“…aren't on my map?”

“I'm sorry,” Sam apologized, shaking her head as if she could dislodge the image of the running horse. “What did you say?”

“I asked if there are places, besides the six I've listed, where you've sighted the Phantom?”

“Sure,” Sam answered.

“If I promise not to lay a finger on the stallion, will you tell me about them?”

“No, Ryan. I haven't told anyone.”

Ryan looked skeptical.

“I haven't and I won't,” she insisted. “But you did a really nice job on that map, from what I can tell in the photographs.”

“I'm flattered,” Ryan said, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. He slanted his head left, grimaced as if the sun glare on the windshield was aimed only at him, then snatched up sunglasses from the car's console. He stabbed them over his ears so forcefully, Sam winced.

Ryan was awfully worked up about her refusal to answer his questions, so she tried to lead the conversation in a different direction. “What are you going to study in college?”

“Nothing,” he snapped. “I want to take over the ranch once my father loses interest in it.”

No,
Sam thought. The Kenworthys longed to buy their ranch back someday. She still hoped a miracle would make it happen.

“And he
will
lose interest,” Ryan continued, “make no mistake about that.”

Sam held her breath as her mind raced. The Kenworthys needed the ranch to continue their palomino breeding program, Fire and Ice. She and Jen daydreamed about growing up to run River Bend and Gold Dust, living next door to each other.

Trust a Slocum to mess everything up. Unless…

Sam shot Ryan a calculating look. Maybe there was another way. Not as good, but if Jen and Ryan officially became boyfriend and girlfriend, she supposed they might get married. Jen would have her ranch back.

What would be even better, since she didn't really trust Ryan, was if they got engaged, then Ryan fell in love with someone else. Then, out of guilt he might just give Jen the ranch. Sam smiled at her tangled fantasy. Of course it was far-fetched, but it could happen.

As if he'd noticed her mind drifting, Ryan added, “Learning the ways of the West are college enough for me right now.”

Sam knew it wouldn't do any good to tell Ryan that most successful ranchers had attended college.
Many continued their education through classes on the Internet or agricultural extension programs, too. If his daydream came true, he'd find out for himself.

And there was another reason Sam didn't argue with him.

The dark horse's silhouette was clearer now. Its size, strong gait, and fluttering tail—probably black—looked familiar.

“Are you telling me Jake Ely doesn't know where to find that mustang stallion?” Ryan blurted. “Your Phantom?”

“I'm not saying he doesn't know. I'm afraid he might,” Sam admitted. “But if he knows, I sure didn't tell him. And if he knows, I doubt he'd tell you or anyone else.”

Jake didn't love the Phantom like she did, but he respected the horse as he did all wild things. Besides, she and Jake were friends. He knew revealing the stallion's hidden valley would end that friendship.

“I only want Hotspot.” Ryan pronounced each syllable in the sentence. It was annoying and Sam was already running out of patience when he added, “Why can't you just take me at my word?”

“Gee, I don't know, Ryan. Maybe it's because the last time I did, I ended up in a police car?”

Ryan drove in silence and Sam told herself she shouldn't feel a bit bad for reminding him that he was to blame for hiding Hotspot and Shy Boots near Cowkiller Caldera. It was his fault Hotspot was
running with the mustangs and pure luck Shy Boots hadn't died without her.

Sam sighed. If she punished Ryan by making him do this on his own, she'd be punishing Shy Boots, too.

Besides, she was pretty sure Hotspot would be happier at Gold Dust Ranch. The last time Sam had seen her, the mare had still worn her leather halter and she'd been trying to decide whether to graze alongside the Phantom's wild mares or the captive mustangs in Mrs. Allen's pasture.

Sam felt her stubbornness melting. “I'll help you get started,” Sam agreed, but she cut Ryan's thanks short when she realized the dark horse on the horizon was Witch. “That's Jake's horse.”

“Why would he be running alongside it instead of riding?” Ryan asked, and Sam saw he was right.

Jake's sweat-shiny arms swung in a relaxed rhythm. His long strides kept him running in the shadow of the black Quarter Horse mare.

“He's in training for the cross-country team,” Sam said as she noticed Jake's green-and-gold Darton High shorts and T-shirt with hacked-off sleeves.

“So we shouldn't stop and offer him a ride?” Ryan asked.

“No, he hates to be interrupted,” Sam said as she lowered the car window. “We'll just wave as we go past.”

“If you say so,” Ryan answered.

Hot sage and sand scented the desert air that
invaded the car. As Sam leaned from the open window, she wondered what caused the surge of satisfaction at the heat hitting her face.

Jake ran at the roadside, just ahead. She heard his shoes pounding pavement and his steady breaths.

Witch snorted, but she didn't shy when Ryan slowed down. The mare kept pace with Jake, as if they were yoked in a team.

Jake's head turned slowly as the Mercedes drew alongside. His black hair swept back from flushed cheekbones and a set jaw. He nodded in response to Sam's wave, but he looked hypnotized, focused on each stride, each footfall, adding up the miles.

As they pulled past, Ryan looked into his rearview mirror.

“You do realize that mare is not on a lead line. She's running at heel, like a dog.”

Witch would stay there, too. Even if a jackrabbit sped across her path or a low-flying hawk dropped to snatch up dinner, the mare wouldn't bolt away from her master.

“Jake's really good with horses,” Sam said.

“I daresay he is,” Ryan responded.

“Besides, she loves him,” Sam said. When Ryan stayed silent, she glanced over at him. Was it just her imagination that he looked envious?

They'd almost reached the La Charla River when Ryan said, “It's not about the money.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

“Catching Hotspot. I want what's best for Shy Boots.”

“I know. But Ryan, all you've got is a list of places. You need—” Sam broke off. It hadn't been luck that she'd seen the Phantom so many times. “—some kind of instinct.”

“I've got something better,” Ryan insisted. “A plan. Once I've found her, I'll chase her down, just like Jake did with that pinto.”

Chase her down.
Put that way, Jake's capture of Star Shower sounded cruel, but it hadn't been. Running together day and night, Jake and the filly had formed a herd bond before they'd ever touched.

“Jake had his grandfather to show him how to do that,” Sam pointed out.

“
My
grandfathers aren't shamen. One is an investment banker in Boston and the other owns Leeds of London department store.” Ryan squared his shoulders. “I can do this on my own.”

“You'll still need a relay of horses,” Sam told him.

“I thought of that,” Ryan said, nodding. “I'll ask Mrs. Allen's permission to use Roman along with Sky.”

“They'd be good,” Sam said, but she shifted in her seat.

Roman was the liver chestnut mustang Ryan had ridden in the Superbowl of Horsemanship. The gelding had stamina and he'd responded well to Ryan's skills, but Sam hadn't felt the same about Roman
since he'd fought with the Phantom when the stallion had been temporarily deaf.

She knew what she'd seen had been a natural battle for dominance, but it was hard to erase the mental picture of Roman's rearing challenge. His long mane and the untrimmed hair under his cheeks and chin had made Roman look primitive and fierce.

“Don't forget to tell Brynna what you're doing,” Sam cautioned as the Mercedes rolled over the bridge, headed for River Bend's ranch yard. “Otherwise, you'll be cited for harassing the wild horses.”

“Of course,” Ryan promised, then he braked to a sudden stop. “Here now, what's this?”

Blaze, the ranch Border collie, stood with head lowered and hackles raised, blocking the path of the Mercedes.

Ryan gave the car's horn a tap, but Blaze met the sound with a volley of low barks and refused to move.

“I guess he doesn't recognize the car,” Sam said, as she rolled down the window to call to the dog. “Hey Blaze, it's okay. It's me.”

With a grumbling growl, Blaze moved aside. Sam thought he glared back over his shoulder as if she were a traitor.

“Crazy dog,” she said.

“Not really,” Ryan said. “You're just as suspicious.

“Just think about helping me,” Ryan said. “I promise I won't become smitten with your stallion.
Let me repeat, I'm only interested in bringing Hotspot home.”

Feelings in a tangle, Sam said, “Yeah, well, first you have to find her.”

“I promise you wouldn't be sorry,” Ryan told her.

But Sam wasn't so sure.

S
am was still shaking her head at Ryan's stubbornness as she crossed the ranch yard toward Brynna.

Her stepmother wore her khaki uniform and a frizzled French braid, so she must have just arrived home, but she hadn't hurried into the cool house. She stood at the pasture fence, leaning as far forward as her pregnancy would allow, kissing her mare's copper-colored nose.

Flushed and freckled, Brynna smiled as Sam approached.

“Hi, how was school?” Brynna called.

Sam had only begun to tell Brynna about her classes when Ace approached the fence and stopped just out of reach.

“Ace,” Sam called. She made a smooching sound and he walked a step closer.

“He's going to make you beg,” Brynna said.

Brynna's horse, Penny, flattened her ears, telling Ace to keep his distance, but the bay mustang continued to advance.

“I'm sorry there's not time for a ride, but tomorrow for sure,” Sam told her horse. He nuzzled her empty palm as she rubbed his neck.

“Tomorrow?” Brynna asked.

“Pam will be here,” Sam said. “I'm going out to Lost Canyon to see her.”

“Great,” Brynna said. She didn't sound all that enthusiastic, but she didn't know Pam. Or maybe she was just enthralled with watching her blind mare nibble her sleeve. “How's Jen doing?”

“Fine, but she's kind of tired.” Sam frowned and worked her fingers through a tangle in Ace's black mane. “And she's worried. Her dad still doesn't want her to go back to school even when she's recovered.”

Sam was about to tell Brynna about Shy Boots, too, and how Jen would have to take care of him, when her stepmother asked an unexpected question.

“How's Jen feel about Pam showing up?”

Sam's hands went still in Ace's mane. There was something almost sly in Brynna's tone, but her eyebrows were lifted in real concern.

“I didn't get a chance to tell her, but what do you mean, how does she feel?” Sam shook her head in
pretend confusion. She wanted to believe worrying over Jen's jealousy was childish.

Brynna shrugged. “You know, since Pam was your best friend in San Francisco.”

“They're both my friends,” Sam said, and though she knew it was unfair, she felt annoyed at Brynna for making her face this possibility. “Why wouldn't that be okay with Jen?”

Brynna looked away for a second, and when she looked back, Sam got the feeling her stepmother wished she hadn't brought the whole subject up.

“Sometimes, three isn't a great number for friends,” Brynna pointed out. “You know, two's company and three's a crowd?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Sam snapped. Even to herself, she sounded bratty, but what if Brynna was right?

Reacting to her harsh tone, Ace backed away from Sam's hands.

“Don't bite my head off, Sam,” Brynna began, but then Penny snorted.

The mare's sightless eyes rolled in wariness, and that's probably what made Brynna angry.

“And you can take your hands off your hips, young lady.”

Sam did.

“I only mentioned an issue you might want to be sensitive to,” Brynna said quietly. “Especially since Jen is bound to be feeling a little confined.”

Jen
was
feeling confined and bored, but Sam tried to hope for the best.

“Jen's not the jealous type,” Sam insisted, although she knew Jen had a jealous streak a mile wide when it came to Jake. And Callie. But maybe that was just part of the loyalty that made Jen such a good friend. “Besides, they're not even going to be around each other.”

“Okay,” Brynna said.

“If you want to worry about one of my friends…” Sam began.

“I don't—”

“Worry about Jake,” Sam said. She watched Ace cross the pasture. Even her horse was fed up with her. “He's hardly spoken to me since he cut his hair and went off on his college tour—”

“He's only been back a few days.”

“—and now all he's doing is training for cross country. In fact, I'm going in to call him,” Sam said.

She turned toward the house. Jake's steady pace should have taken him to Three Ponies Ranch by now. If she hurried, she could catch him before he ducked into the shower, had dinner, or started homework.

Blaze fell into step with Sam, giving his tail a low wag to ask if he was forgiven for blocking the bridge with his body.

“You're a good boy, Blaze,” she said, rumpling his silky ears. “You can't be too careful.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “In fact, I think I'll ask Jake what
he thinks of Ryan's plan.”

“Nice talking to you, too, honey,” Brynna called after her.

Realizing she'd just walked off without a good-bye, Sam listened for resentment in her stepmother's voice, but she didn't hear it. In fact, Brynna sounded almost amused.

Since amusement was the last thing Sam felt over Jake, she kept walking toward the kitchen.

 

Gram's knife sliced through long onions that smelled fresh and green.

“I'm making a salad that even your father will love,” Gram said, glancing toward chicken strips sputtering with grated ginger in a skillet.

“Yum,” Sam said.

“You're a little late,” Gram added. “Everything okay over at the Kenworthys?”

“Sure,” Sam said. Then, because there was no privacy in the house and if you wanted to use the phone you had to stand in the kitchen, Sam added, “Ryan's colt is kind of sickly, so he's going to go out and try to catch Hotspot.”

Gram made a disapproving hum as she scraped the onions from her cutting board into the skillet.

“Hope he checked that out with Brynna.” Gram raised her voice over the renewed sputtering.

“He said he would,” Sam said, edging toward the phone.

“Slocums and wild horses are bad business,” Gram added.

“Tell me about it,” Sam said, but when Gram looked up, alarmed, Sam added, “I think Ryan's okay.”

Poking the chicken and onions with a wooden spoon, Gram said, “One can only hope.”

“I'm going to call Jake,” Sam said.

Gram nodded, but she was more focused on measuring soy sauce than on Sam's dialing.

Jake's dad answered the phone at Three Ponies Ranch and Sam was glad. He wouldn't ask her about her classes or Jen. You never had to worry about unnecessary conversation with Luke Ely. If anything, he was quieter than his sons.

“Hello,” said Luke Ely.

“Hi,” Sam began.

“Jake?” Luke hollered. Then, as an explanation, he added, “Sam.”

She heard the phone change hands.

“Hey,” Jake said.

“How was your run?” Sam asked. “Pretty good?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you're as competitive as you were last year?”

“Yeah,” Jake said.

Jake was one of the best runners in the state. If he had another winning season, he'd have his choice of scholarships to good colleges. She'd learned that
information from the local newspaper, which was a good thing, because she never would have heard it from Jake.

Now she was remembering that the only thing more frustrating than talking to Jake in person was trying to talk to him on the phone.

“Ryan's going to try to catch Hotspot,” Sam began.

“Yeah?” Jake asked.

“Out of the Phantom's herd,” Sam emphasized. “If she's still with him. Do you know if she is?”

“Naw,” Jake said.

“So, what do you think?” Sam asked.

“Don't know if I should shower first or eat. Food makes me sick when I first get in.”

Sam lowered the phone from her ear and glared at it. Was Jake listening to what she'd been saying?

“Jake!” Sam would have started all over again if she hadn't heard him snort with enjoyment at her irritation. “Look, can he do it without messing things up with the herd? Should I help him?”

“You want to?” Jake asked.

“What do you mean, do I want to?” Sam sputtered.

Jake stayed quiet, giving her no hint whether he meant did she want to hang around with Ryan, did she want to snatch Hotspot away from the Phantom, or any of a dozen other possibilities.

“There's that thing they say—hey, give it!” Jake
broke off and Sam heard scuffling, male shouts about the last sports drink in the refrigerator, and finally she heard Jake gulping liquid like a thirsty horse.

As she waited for him to finish, Sam realized her eyes were closed and she was gripping her forehead with one hand.

“What thing?” she asked, at last.

“Huh?”

“What thing do they say?” Sam repeated.

“I don't know, it's something like ‘keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,'” Jake told her.

“I don't understand.”

More wrestling sounds hid Jake's response. Or maybe there wasn't one.

When she heard a hammering sound, Sam realized he'd dropped the phone. Then she heard Mrs. Ely calling everyone to the dinner table.

Since it wasn't very likely Jake had anything else to say, Sam hung up.

 

Sam loved Gram's chicken salad and her English homework was easy, but she decided it wasn't her day for good phone calls.

She hadn't heard from Pam, so Sam guessed she'd just have to ride over to Lost Canyon tomorrow. Maybe she'd go with Ryan, because she'd finally figured out what Jake's puzzling comment had meant.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,
Jake
had said. If she rode with Ryan, she could keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't locate the Phantom and decide he had to have him.

It was weird calling Ryan, but the instant she finished washing the dishes, Sam did it.

“So you've considered the merits of my plan and you've decided to tell me where the Great One hides, right?” Ryan asked.

He sounded entirely too smug, but Sam reminded herself she was doing this for the horses.

“Not exactly,” Sam said. “I'll ride with you when I can, though, and help you narrow your search.”

And she would. Ryan's map showed War Drum Flats, Lost Canyon, the area around Blind Faith Mustang Sanctuary, Snake's Head Peak, Fishbait Springs, and Cowkiller Caldera. He already knew mustangs haunted those areas, but she could show him within yards, not miles, where the herd had been.

Sam was congratulating herself on her own maturity when Ryan cut her off.

“Thanks for the lovely offer,” he began, and Sam could hear Ryan's “however,” though he hadn't said it.

After all his begging was he going to turn her down?

“All I'm requesting is—how do I put this? An ‘X marks the spot.'” Ryan gave a low chuckle. “You know—like they have on treasure maps?”

For a second, Sam wondered if Gram had left the
oven on full blast, because it didn't seem possible her face could turn this hot from anger.

“Simply tell me the best place to look for the Phantom's herd,” Ryan clarified. “I'll be riding alone.”

She couldn't fight with Ryan right here and now, with Gram standing a few feet away, but she had to say something.

“So, you just want sort of a cheat sheet from me?” Sam thought she did a good job of asking the question pleasantly.

“I'm not sure what that is,” Ryan said, “but I'm certainly not requesting something unsavory.”

Yeah, you are,
Sam thought.

“After all, we're friends,” he added.

Ryan wasn't trying to buy a shortcut with money, like his father did, but couldn't he hear himself trying to buy it with friendship?

Sam knew she wouldn't have pointed that out, even if she hadn't suddenly remembered Jen. She should have called Jen hours ago.

“Actually, I was calling to tell you I think you're on the right track with the places you're looking and to offer to let Brynna know your plan, to save you a phone call.”

You wimp
, Sam told herself, but after Ryan accepted her offer and she hung up the phone, Sam decided she'd been nice to him for Jen.

She would have told Jen that, but her best friend
called first, sounding gloomy and critical.

“Thanks for calling like you promised,” Jen said right away.

“It's not like I forgot,” Sam protested. “I was waiting until I finished my homework, sort of like looking forward to dessert,” Sam teased.

Jen didn't laugh. She zoomed straight to what she wanted to know.

“So, did you and Ryan have fun?”

“Not really,” Sam answered.

“Did you plan how to catch Hotspot?” Jen asked.

“No more than we did at your house,” Sam said. “I won't take him to any secret places and he's already got the others on his map.”

What could she say to make Jen laugh? Sam's mind raced. She considered telling Jen about her daydream, that Jen would marry Ryan and get Gold Dust Ranch back, but Jen didn't sound like she was in the mood for far-fetched fantasy.

“What aren't you telling me?” Jen demanded.

“Nothing,” Sam said and then, because that wasn't exactly true and Jen had already picked up on her hesitation, Sam amended, “Something stupid.”

“About Ryan?”

“Well, sort of,” Sam said. Then, just when she was about to change the subject and tell Jen about Pam, she hesitated again. Of course Jen heard something in her delay that made her think something major was going on.

“Look, Sam, he's trying to be a good guy.”

“I know—”

“Just give him a chance, okay?”

Jen wasn't being fair, but she was probably miserable. Sam wouldn't trade places with her for anything. She tried really hard to be understanding.

“I wasn't going to say anything bad, Jen,” she told her friend, but Jen didn't seem to hear.

“Think of that first day we met him,” Jen said. “Remember? When the cougar was eating his dad's buffet? Ryan was so cute. He wouldn't let anyone hurt the cat. And don't forget he tamed Roman. Anyone else looking at that horse would only see its bad conformation—”