Midnight Lady (10 page)

Using her heels, she asked him to take Meltwater Trail, slowly at first, finding her balance, gaining confidence. Rocky listened hard. He got used to the novel sensation of being ridden bareback.

“You’re doing fine!” she murmured, as they passed by a stream that fed the creek. “What do you say we try a trot?”

Rocky agreed. He broke his steady walking gait, picked up his feet, and set off uphill at a smooth trot. Kirstie rose and fell, one hand on his shoulder, one hand holding the looped lead rope.

“And how about a lope?” she breathed.

Rocky felt her sit down firmly and make the kissing sound that told him to go faster. He stretched his strong legs into a steady lope.

With the wind in her hair, swerving by pine trunks and through copses of silver green aspens, Kirstie covered the ground. The sun dappled the earth, the breeze shimmered through the trees. She was riding bareback, getting as close to nature as it was possible to be.

Less than an hour after her spur of the moment decision to check out Lisa’s sighting of the three missing horses, Kirstie and Rodeo Rocky reached Angel Rock.

The outcrop of pinky gray granite had appeared on the skyline as they skirted wide of the entrance to Lennie Goodman’s trailer park, and Kirstie had kept it in view ever since. Of all the rocks around, this one most lived up to its name, she thought. Sure, Hummingbird Rock was a great label for the outcrop that attracted the tiny, darting birds that sucked nectar from the wildflowers growing all around. And Bear Hunt Overlook was good for the flat ledge of rock where the hunters of old had stood with their guns, searching for black bears and their valuable pelts. But Angel Rock, shaped like the angel you would put on top of a Christmas tree, complete with wings, was the most perfect name of all.

Strong sunlight picked out the shape of the angel’s face in profile, shadows played a fluttery trick and made the wings move as Kirstie approached up the final slope.

“Whoa!” she whispered to Rocky.

It was baking hot, silent except for the clip of the horse’s hooves over the gravelly ground.

When he came to a standstill in the shadow of the rock, Kirstie slid from Rocky’s back and tethered him to a tree. She listened carefully. More silence, seemingly miles of it as she gained the ridge and gazed into the next valley.

“Skeeter, where are you?” she whispered. “Moonpie? Midnight Lady?”

“Hey!” A figure stepped out suddenly from behind Angel Rock.

“Oh, Lisa, you scared me!” She recognized the wild red hair and freckled face of her best friend, noticed the coils of rope hanging from her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“The same as you, I guess.”

“B-but … How come you didn’t tell me what you were planning?” Kirstie had caught her breath and recovered from the shock.

“I didn’t get the chance. Grandpa heard me talking about Angel Rock and ordered me off the phone. I had to make up an excuse to get away, so he didn’t suspect anything.”

Kirstie nodded. “Likewise.” Excuses and pretenses, and more trouble if they were found out. “They’ll think we planned to meet up here.”

With a shrug, Lisa turned her attention to the tree-covered slopes of the valley. “I just felt I had to help Donna get her horses back, that’s all.”

“You know what they say about great minds.” She and Lisa had thought alike. “I’m hoping that if we get her horses back to her before tomorrow morning, she’ll change her mind about selling the ranch.”

Still scanning the hillside, Lisa nodded. “Would that include Midnight Lady?” she asked quietly.

Kirstie frowned. To take the unbroken gray horse away from these peaceful hills, back to the torment of Leon Franks’s sacking out would break her heart.

“I take it that means no,” Lisa said after a long pause, setting off downhill through the tall, dark trees.

They searched for half an hour without success. If the horses really had been to Angel Rock, they’d left no sign.

“OK, so I imagined it!” Lisa sighed, pushing her hair back from her hot face, then fanning herself with her wide-brimmed hat.

The girls had scoured an area within a half-mile radius of Angel Rock, and come full circle back to the place where Kirstie had tethered Rodeo Rocky. It was time to give in and go home.

The bay horse seemed pleased to see them, snorting and pawing the ground as they returned. He raised his head and pricked his ears, as if expecting to be untied.

“OK, OK, don’t get too excited,” Kirstie told him. His ears were flicking in every direction, then he curled his lips and let out a long, high whinny. She was on the point of loosening the slipknot when a second horse replied.

“You hear that?” Lisa gasped. She froze and listened.

Down in the valley toward Lone Elm, the mystery horse whinnied again. This time it seemed closer.

“What do we do?” Lisa demanded. She’d scrambled onto a rock and was staring in the direction of the agitated cry.

“Wait here!” Kirstie decided. She felt that pretty soon Rocky’s call would attract the other horse to Angel Rock. His herd instinct, together with natural curiosity, would draw him

Sure enough, the dialogue continued. Rocky would whinny to give the stranger his position, the invisible horse would reply.

“He’s getting closer!” Lisa murmured, searching hard for movement on the tree-lined slope. At last she was able to point to a shape gliding through some aspens, reluctant to show himself, but tempted on by Rocky’s dominant call.

Kirstie saw him. Almost as pale as the slender white trunks of the aspens. A gray horse.

“Moonpie!” Lisa recognized the brown-specked, flea-bitten coat.

The horse moved clear of the trees. Yes, it was Moonpie and not Midnight Lady. Kirstie heaved a sigh of relief. “And Skeeter!” she whispered, as a second horse drifted between the tree trunks. The black-and-white paint was easier to spot and identify. Both horses wore head collars and approached without fear, eager to make contact with the tethered bay.

“Wait!” Kirstie murmured again. There was no need to do anything dramatic. Thanks to Rodeo Rocky, Donna’s newly broken broncs were simply walking back into their arms. She turned to Lisa to take one of the ropes which she’d slid from her shoulder.

In her mind’s eye she already had Skeeter and Moonpie safely attached to a lead rope. She and Lisa were walking the horses down to the trailer park. They would call Circle R and wait for Donna to send up a trailer to collect them …

The sound of an engine cut into the hot, heavy peace. Rocky tried to rear, but his tether pulled him down. Moonpie and Skeeter turned up the slope in sudden panic.

A pickup truck was racing up a jeep track between the trees. It skidded to a halt and two men jumped out. They raced through the undergrowth toward the confused horses, cutting off the escape route they had chosen by crowding them into the shadow of Angel Rock.

“Hey!” Kirstie yelled a protest as she recognized Leon Franks and TJ. “There’s no need for that!”

They ignored her, moving in with ropes of their own. They swung lassos over their heads, sending them snaking through the air toward the horses’ heads. Both landed on target and were jerked tight around their necks.

“We said there was no need!” Lisa was angry. She stormed up to Leon, while Kirstie did her best to calm Rodeo Rocky. “We could’ve brought them back nice and gentle!”

“We believe you!” Leon sneered, heaving on the rope to force Moonpie down the hill. “Like, you’re the reason we’ve got this problem in the first place, remember!”

Lisa’s mouth snapped shut, she blushed bright red, changing tack, and running after TJ and Skeeter. “How did you find out where they were?” she demanded.

TJ struggled to control the black-and-white horse, whose eyes were staring, his whole body resisting capture. “We got a call from Lennie Goodman,” he muttered, dodging a sideways kick. “We drove over as fast as we could.”

“And what are you gonna do with them?” Lisa had to stand to one side, out of the way of Leon and Moonpie.

“Look, kid, just beat it!” The ranch manager’s shaky hold on his temper gave way as he tried to steer the gray horse toward the truck. “Go on, get out of here!”

He lashed out with his free arm, knocking Lisa backward against a tree. Kirstie heard the thud and ran to help her up.

“Are you OK?” She pulled her to her feet.

Lisa held on to her shoulder. Her face had turned pale, but she nodded.

“Nightmare!” Kirstie hissed. She turned to see the ramp at the back of the truck clatter to the ground and Leon Franks using his full weight to shove Moonpie inside. “No way is that safe!”

Grimacing with pain, still holding onto her arm, Lisa turned away. “The sooner this is over, the better!” she agreed.

It was TJ’s turn to force Skeeter into the truck. He tied the horse to a metal bar behind the driver’s cab, alongside Moonpie. The two horses stamped and pulled, sweating with fear and barging against each other in the confined space.

“If they get them back to Circle R in one piece, it’ll be a miracle!” Kirstie predicted, disgust in her voice. She hated every inch of Leon Franks’s bony, sharp, cruel frame.

He raised the ramp and slammed it shut, then ran to the cab, where TJ was already sitting in the passenger seat. There was a roar from the engine and a puff of black smoke from the exhaust. The sudden jerk forward sent Moonpie and Skeeter into a fresh frenzy. The last glimpse Kirstie and Lisa caught of them through the cloud of smoke was of two horses arching back and kicking, squealing for all they were worth.

In the silence after they’d gone, Kirstie felt her spirits sink lower than ever before. There didn’t seem to be a move she could make without Leon Franks suddenly appearing. Then all her good intentions toward Donna Rose would vanish and she was left only with the sour taste of disgust.

And now the man had hurt Lisa with his bad-tempered shove.

“Let’s get you back to the trailer park,” she offered, untying Rodeo Rocky and waiting for Lisa to join her on the jeep track. “Can you get up on his back?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Lisa’s tense, pale face suggested otherwise.

“You’re not fine. I’ll walk you to the gate at least.” That’s where they would split up and Kirstie would begin to make her way back to Half Moon Ranch and who knew what new problems there. By then it would be around about five, the time when her mom was due back from her trail ride.

Nodding grimly, Lisa agreed to the plan. They set off slowly together, Kirstie leading Rocky, each dreading what would greet them when they got home.

“Look on the bright side.” After half an hour’s mostly silent walking, as the entrance to Lone Elm came into view, Lisa managed a faint smile.

“What bright side?” As far as Kirstie could see, there was none. “We’re both about to be grounded for the rest of our entire lives, and here’s you telling me to think positive!”

Clutching her arm, trying to smile, Lisa looked back the way they’d come at the hillside deep in shadow. “The sun’s still shining on Angel Rock,” she murmured.

“Yeah?” Not enough to make her feel better.

“And Midnight Lady is still up there somewhere!”

“Yeah!” Kirstie nodded. The light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Midnight Lady. Still free.

Kirstie had to keep that in mind as she and Rocky retraced their steps to Half Moon Ranch. A horse like Midnight Lady could survive quite well in the mountains, even though she was alone now. She would forage in the small meadows she would find by wandering down culverts. There would be plenty of clean water in the rushing streams. Come October, when the snow began to fall, it might be a different matter. But winter was a long way off.

Deep in thought, she rode Rocky along Meltwater Trail. She was managing for the first time to picture a long-term future for the brave gray horse, reassuring herself that there was no animal living in the Meltwater Range that would pose any real threat to Midnight Lady so long as the horse managed to stay healthy and uninjured. Coyotes and wildcats would keep their distance. A bear and her cubs that had been sighted in the area earlier that year had since moved on.

True, Midnight Lady would be lonely. A herd animal needed others around it, so maybe she would move on before winter came and blocked the mountain passes. Ancient instinct might tell her of wild horses on the Wyoming plains and lead her far away. Kirstie might never see her again.

Sadly she rode Rocky down from the hills and onto the jeep road that crossed Meltwater Trail. They were only about half a mile from home when she noticed clear tire marks in the dust, a sign that this was probably the route chosen by Leon Franks with the two recaptured horses. The tracks snapped her back into the present. Where was the pickup truck now? Had it already reached the main route into San Luis? Were Moonpie and Skeeter still safe?

“Call it premonition!” Kirstie said later.

It was dusk. The vet, Glen Woodford, had raced out to the scene as soon as Charlie had called him. Kirstie was standing next to her mom, gazing at the smashed pickup, its front end buried into a rock at the side of the road.

“I just knew they were never gonna make it!”