The Shining Stallion (2 page)

D
arby sat on the low bench in Sun House's entrance hall and tugged off her boots. Her skinned knees were stiff from her fall down the boulders in Crimson Vale, but getting her boots off wasn't hard. Megan's outgrown boots were still a bit big for Darby and slid off easily.

Sitting in her stockinged feet, Darby gazed out the open front door. She didn't want to close it.

How could it feel more dreary inside the house than it did outside in the rain?

Because I'm going to my doom,
Darby thought, but as she stood, she pushed the cuff of her long-sleeved T-shirt up to look at her good-luck charm.

It was all Samantha Forster's fault, Darby
decided. The Nevada cowgirl wore a bracelet braided from silvery strands of mustang mane. The idea had stuck with Darby. So even though she was not the least bit superstitious, when she'd found this ornament of three tiny black braids, which looked like a broken horsehair necklace, she hadn't been able to resist wrapping it around her wrist.

Darby didn't believe in good-luck charms. Tugging her sleeve back down, she thought maybe it couldn't hurt.

A thump drew her attention to the corner of the living room. The lowest of the wooden cabinets to the left of the lanai doors swung open.

Darby couldn't believe her eyes. Framed in the open cabinet, like a face on a television, was her grandfather's head.

“The entrance to my library's down here.”

Darby felt like Alice in Wonderland as she asked, “Down where?”

She tilted her head to look inside. There were no shelves, no clutter of stored Christmas lights or old videos, only Jonah, crawling backward, away from her, deeper into a cabinet that had no back.

It was a secret door.

Disbelieving, Darby remained squatting.

Jonah's face reappeared. “Crawl in,” he told her.

“Okay,” Darby whispered.

“It's not that kind of library,” Jonah told her. “Speak up.”

“Okay.” She walked her hands out in front of her until she was on all fours. “Here I come,” she said, raising her voice.

From polished wooden floor to pillows, she crawled past Jonah. He closed the door behind her, but Darby didn't stop crawling until she'd reached the far wall. Then, twisting to sit, she cautiously raised her head to look around. Once you got through the entrance, there was room to stand, but Darby didn't.

Jonah's library wasn't much bigger than a closet, but full bookshelves were set in a spiral that started at floor level, then circled the room up to the ceiling. It was like being inside a shell.

Darby tilted her head back and saw that the bookshelves spiraled all the way up to an arched skylight.

“This is so cool,” she gasped.

Arms and legs folded, Jonah sat back against the closed door, looking comfortable.

He shrugged at her delight, but a smile lifted his black mustache.

“What is it? I mean, I know it's your library, but—”

“I was a sickly little kid, like you,” Jonah said. “Once I had to stay a week in the hospital, off island. When I came home, my dad had built this for me. He said it was a hideout from my big sister and brother, that no one I didn't tell would know it existed.”

A refuge with a crystal ceiling to let in the sun,
Darby mused.

“But really, it wasn't their fault,” Jonah went on. “It was me always tryin' to keep up with my sister and brother and their friends, then runnin' out of breath. So he built me a spot I wouldn't want to leave.”

A kingdom of horses outside and a realm of books inside. What a great father to give an asthmatic boy such a magical place to spend the days he could barely breathe. How many people had such good fortune?

Me, for one,
Darby thought thankfully. ‘Iolani Ranch was like something from a fairy tale and her grandfather was sharing it with her.

Darby had a hard time reconciling the Jonah who'd flung himself off a running horse into a tangle of wire to rescue Hoku, with the frail boy he'd been, until she saw the wooden horse.

“I love it.” Darby pointed to a wooden horse with a huge book set on its back. The horse wasn't painted—just buffed to the brilliant bay of a real horse. “A rocking horse without rockers,” she said.

“My dad pried 'em off after I rode hard enough to make me wheeze. After that, I sat on it to read. Until I got tired of my asthma.” Jonah gave Darby a half smile. They both knew it was impossible to wish away the chest-gripping disease.

“Now,” Jonah said. “It's time for you to pick your punishment.”

Outstanding,
Darby thought. If her grandfather
was going to let her select her own punishment, she'd pick
none
.

“I don't really need a punishment. I've learned my lesson. I won't ever let Hoku escape again.” Darby hoped there was a serious and sincere expression on her face, because she meant what she'd said.

When Jonah's only reply was to raise his black eyebrows, she added, “I know that I hurt Megan's feelings, though, and that none of you really trust my judgment as much as you did before.”

Jonah made a rolling movement with his hand as if he expected her to go on.

Darby pulled her knees up against her chest, encircled them with her arms, and pressed her forehead to her knees to concentrate. She didn't know what her grandfather wanted from her.

“Did Ellen—”

Darby looked up at the sound of her mother's name.

“—ever tell you about Mary's bracelet box?”

Darby shook her head. Could Jonah be talking about another relative she'd never met? Or was he about to launch into another one of his random stories?

“Two women were the best of friends,” Jonah began, “and when one took sick and was about to cross over—”

“Die?” Darby asked.

Jonah nodded, then continued, “She begged her
friend to become
hanai
mother to her daughter Mary. ‘Raise her as your own,' said the dying woman. ‘All I ask is that you give her my koa wood box, unopened, when she is grown.'

“Of course the good friend agreed, but she'd always admired her best friend's koa wood box, carved with wondrous birds and beasts and kept on a high shelf. So, after the woman's funeral, she couldn't help but look inside. A polished cinnabar bracelet lay in the box. No great treasure, the
hanai
mother thought, looking guiltily at Mary, but too nice to leave in the dark box until the little girl was grown. So, the
hanai
mother wore the bracelet, growing proud of her slender wrist encircled by the scarlet bangle. She meant to give the gift to Mary someday, but somehow she never did. Her guilt grew each time she took the bracelet from its koa box. Finally, though, she couldn't part with the bracelet. She threw the box into her cooking fire, to destroy the evidence of her theft.

“The flames weren't hot enough to consume her guilt in betraying her dead friend, and guilt poisoned her love for her
hanai
daughter. Mary grew up wild, willful, and, as soon as she could, she moved far away from her
hanai
mother.”

When Jonah paused, Darby tried to grasp the story's meaning. She hadn't stolen anything, but she had found something someone had lost. Could he possibly know about the horsehair braids
wrapped and tied around her wrist?

Darby's index finger slid inside her shirt sleeve to touch the improvised bracelet, then jerked back. Sharp as a thorn, the broken shell that looked like it had once dangled at the wearer's throat pricked her finger.

Darby curled her fingers tight, in case the shell had drawn blood, but Jonah didn't seem to notice.

“Finally, the
hanai
mother, longing for Mary and forgiveness, knew what she had to do. She sold her house, bought a piece of koa unmatched by any wood in the world, and apprenticed herself to a wood-carver. At first he judged her a ridiculous old woman, but he was willing to take her money. The
hanai
mother turned out to have a talent for the art and the wood-carver was at a loss to understand why the woman created a single box into which she put an old red bracelet, chipped and scratched.

“It took two years, but finally, on bloody feet and with a careworn heart, the
hanai
mother arrived at Mary's door in a strange city. With bent head, the
hanai
mother offered Mary the box and her confession. Crying, Mary drew her
hanai
mother inside and nursed her tenderly until she died.”

“I kind of like the story,” Darby said, “but I still don't know what you want me to do.”

“Every animal on this place earns its keep, but you're a human. You have to earn respect as well as your food and shelter.”

Darby stared at the wall until the books blurred before her eyes.

Seeing her confusion, Jonah hinted, “To earn back Megan's respect, you have to understand what you took from her. Then you'll know how to pay her back.”

“I hurt Megan's feelings…,” Darby began.

“Good.” Jonah's voice sounded warm and understanding, like a storybook grandfather. “And how did you do that?”

Feeling ashamed, Darby swallowed, then said, “I made
her
look incompetent.” Trying to get this over with, she added, “And I made
you
worry.”

“More than that, you took my peace of mind. Ellen told me you were not so brave.” Jonah sounded sorry for believing Darby's mother. “But it turns out you're a daredevil when it comes to your horse.”

Darby tried to fit his teasing tone with his glare, but then she gave up and just blurted the truth.

“I'm not a daredevil. I just did what I knew was right.” Darby shook her head. That sounded lame, like she was quoting something from a leadership class they made you take at school. “
You
know that
I
know how Hoku thinks. Not all of the time, but pretty often. So I knew what was right for her and I had to do it. You do the same thing with horses, right?”

Darby didn't hear how tangled her words were until Jonah bowed his head and gripped the graying
hair at his temples with his hands.

Then he boomed out her full name, “Darby Leilani Kealoha Carter, you are wasting time. That, or I'm too old to follow the wandering of a young girl's mind.

“Since you have no ideas for punishment, I'm giving you two chores that will teach you what you need to learn. You're not lacking intelligence, but you're not patient or sensible.”

I am too patient and sensible,
Darby wanted to protest,
except when it comes to horses,
but Jonah pointed at her as if he were about to make a major pronouncement.

“You will take over tending that goat Francie. Megan's been in charge of her, but now it's your responsibility to see that Francie is fit to eat on the Fourth of July.”

Darby winced. She didn't like the idea of eating something that had a name, but she said, “Okay.”

“And you'll take over a chore for me. You can serve as Luna's attendant.”

“His attendant?” Darby asked. “Like hold his train while he walks to his throne?”

She was joking, but the mighty bay stallion was named Luna, which meant
boss
. And he took his title seriously.

“I'm not sure Luna likes me,” Darby said.

“He scares you. That's not the same thing.” Jonah held up his palm to keep her quiet. “Luna is a well-
mannered, working stallion. He doesn't spook easy, but he will take a stand if you don't. Learning to handle him will be good training for you.”

Gooseflesh covered Darby's arms and she shivered, thinking of the proud stallion. “He won't try to fight other stallions, will he?”

“He would if he were challenged,” Jonah said, “but he's the only stallion on the place.”

“Good,” Darby said, then added, “Thanks for giving me such a good punishment. I expected something worse,” she admitted.

Jonah nodded and said, “I'm taking it easy on you because you're still learning how things work here.”

“Thank you,” Darby said. “I think—”

“Don't thank me, and don't think,” Jonah told her.

“Don't
think
?”

“That's right. You're too new to this life to think for yourself. I learned that the hard way.” Jonah waited for her to contradict him.

He's treating me like a kindergartner,
Darby thought, but she stayed quiet.

“Have you cleaned the tack shed?” Jonah asked.

“No. Was I supposed to?”

“You were in there this morning. You noticed that one of the horses had come in and messed things up, yeah?”

“Sure,” Darby said, and she knew which horse it had been, too. Kona, Jonah's dappled gray, took every opportunity to sneak into the tack shed for a
little of the grain that was also stored inside.

“Who did you think would clean it up?”

Kimo or Cade,
Darby admitted to herself, but she didn't say it.

“I'm not sure what I should do,” Darby said.

“Make sure the saddles and bridles are hung up. See that the halters are all on hooks, not dropped on the floor. Get rid of the empty feed sacks, and then sweep the floor until there's not a crumb left. I suppose your mother taught you how to use a broom?” He raised one black eyebrow.

“Sure she did,” Darby agreed.

“Get after it before dinner,” Jonah told her, then scooted to one side to open the door for her.

“I will.”

Darby got back down on all fours to leave through the low door. She ducked her head, thinking that once you got to be a year old or something, you really didn't spend much time crawling.

She couldn't shake the feeling that she was leaving a magical place for the ordinary world.