Water Lily (8 page)

R
iding home, they didn't talk much.

When they neared the pond, Darby asked, “Should we try to find Honi before it gets dark?”

“Nope,” he said curtly.

Darby didn't ask what Cade was thinking and, at first, she didn't share her own thoughts, even though her mind was churning and full.

She wanted to tell Cade he could not leave ‘Iolani Ranch. He'd be leaving them shorthanded. He'd be giving up his study of paniolo ways. It would make her grandfather sad. It would be like throwing Jonah's affection and protection back in his face, even if Jonah understood why Cade was going.

“Jonah would miss you,” Darby said.

“Same here,” Cade snapped, then he extended Joker's trot so that Hoku was no longer even with the Appaloosa's shoulder but with his rump.

And Darby couldn't see Cade's face.

“Huh.” She breathed out a mix of frustration and admiration.

A few minutes later, she began wondering if there was another reason Cade would consider moving—something besides his longing to reconnect with his mother.

Cade knew cattle and horses because Jonah had taught him well, and Cade probably wanted to make ranching his life's work. But because he was not Jonah's biological son, did he think he stood no chance of inheriting ‘Iolani Ranch someday?

Was he right?

Jonah wanted Darby to have the ranch, if she proved herself worthy of it. And he'd hinted—Darby smiled and sat a little straighter on her horse—that she was on the right track.

Was going back to Dee the only way Cade could ever be in charge of his own ranch?

If she had been sure of it, Darby would have told him things didn't have to be that way.

She tried not to daydream. Riding Hoku, she had to pay attention.

But Darby couldn't help picturing how it might be, ten or twelve years from now. She imagined Jonah, Aunty Cathy, and Ellen sitting on the lanai of Sun
House, looking down on the pasture where Megan and Cade were walking on each side of Biscuit, holding a little child centered in the buckskin's saddle.

She saw herself riding in from Pearl Pasture at a full gallop, dressed in jeans and a paniolo's hala hat; she'd be jumping a fence, and her long black braid and Hoku's golden tail would be streaking straight out behind them.

It was a good picture, a happy one. And it could happen if they all stuck together.

But where did that leave Dee?

Darby swallowed hard and felt a little guilty.

Dee was definitely not in Darby's picture.

 

Finally, just as the roof of Sun House showed above the trees, Darby thought of a conversational topic Cade shouldn't be touchy about.

“Did you hear we're herding the wild horses up toward Sky Mountain?” Darby asked.

“We?” Cade asked in a belittling tone.

Darby swallowed hard.

“I'm so happy to be an only child. I couldn't stand having a brother like you.”

She managed to say it like a joke, but that single word vibrated between them until they reached home.

Okay,
Darby thought as she brushed the dust from Hoku's coat. She knew she wasn't a good enough rider to go on the adventure.

Darby also knew why Cade had talked to her in
that tone, putting her down. He didn't want to talk. He wanted her to back off because his feelings were raw from his conversation with Dee.

Fine, but that was still no excuse for being mean.

But, Darby told herself later, Cade's unpleasantness did give her an excuse for not feeling like a traitor when she told Megan about Cade's encounter with Dee. And that's just what she did, while Megan chopped onions and Darby grated gingerroot for Aunty Cathy's tankatsu sauce that night.

“He's not seriously thinking of doing it? Moving back in with his mom, yeah?” Megan asked.

“I think he might be, but—ow!” Darby yelped as she grated a bit of her fingertip along with the ginger. She examined the scuff. “I'm not bleeding.”

“Just like that?” Megan's voice sounded oddly nasal.

“Yeah, I was grating the ginger and—”

Megan sniffed, shook her head, and corrected Darby. “No, I mean Cade.”

“Oh, well, he told her that before he'll move back, she has to do three things: divorce Manny, get a job, and stop smoking.”

Megan was blinking back tears!

“I don't know Dee, but I don't think you have to worry.” Darby tried to make Megan feel better. “I mean, I can't imagine her doing all those things. Not soon, anyway.”

She looked over to see Megan use the back of
her wrist to wipe her eyes.

“Megan, don't cry,” Darby begged.

“I'b not,” Megan said, with a funny gulp. Then she fanned the air and explained, “The
onions
.”

“Ohh,” Darby said, relieved.

Finished with the task, Megan pushed aside the cutting board and went to the sink to wash her hands. “Actually, I'm happy.”

Happy?
That didn't make sense.

“So, uh, you don't think we have to worry?” Darby checked.

Megan turned back to the sink and shook the suds from her hands.

“Nope!” Megan definitely sounded smug.

“Why not?” Darby asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Megan's singsong tone contradicted her words.

“What?” Darby demanded.

“It's just that, you know when I went down to talk to him? Well, I told him that if his mother wanted him to come home—”

“How did you know she would?”

“It just made sense. First there was Cade's dad, then Manny, and, I don't know, it just seems like she'd want him back, so I told him that I wouldn't blame him for going—”

“That was nice of you,” Darby said sarcastically.

“Do you want to hear this?” Megan asked. “Because I'm good at giving advice, you know, but I
don't throw my pearls before swine.”

“Yes! I want to hear!”

“Okay.” Megan gave a satisfied nod. “So, I said that if he didn't want to end up with things like they were before, he should have a list of demands, and he said, ‘Like what?' And so we sat down together on the bunkhouse step and—”

“Those were
your
ideas?”

“No, they were totally his,” Megan insisted. “I just put a little steel in his spine, yeah?”

T
he next morning was Friday, but Darby woke up to the smell of pancakes. They were usually a weekend treat, but since school was still closed, Jonah had made his special coconut pancakes. This was also surprising because Jonah hadn't eaten his tankatsu chicken dinner until eleven o'clock the night before.

Jonah, Kit, and Cade had stayed outside, working by porch light and flashlight to finish the cremellos' pasture fence. That meant they needed piping supplies from the hardware store in Hapuna for their next job.

Despite the aroma of pancakes, Jonah wasn't in the kitchen. But Megan was backing away from the refrigerator and Aunty Cathy was opening the oven.

“Good morning,” Darby said.

“We're going into town.” Megan shot her fist toward the ceiling in celebration.

“I have to arrange for more hay to be delivered—we didn't include the cremellos in our last order—and buy some replacement pipe for Flatlands.” Aunty Cathy nodded toward one of the far pastures as she handed Darby pancakes on a warm plate. “If you girls can finish your chores and move the cremellos into their pasture by ten o'clock, you can come along to help me. If you want.”

“Definitely,” Darby agreed.

She shoveled down breakfast, pulled on boots and a sweatshirt, and got to work.

The dogs greeted them with barks of joy. Jack and Jill trotted at Darby's heels, waiting for her to do something more exciting than feed Francie the goat and her piglet, Pigolo. Knowing she'd spend even more time with Hoku, the Australian shepherds threw themselves down on their bellies. Muzzles between their front paws, they followed her with mournful brown eyes.

Darby glanced at the dogs while she hand-fed the sorrel wisps of hay.

This is so boring,
the dogs' eyes seemed to say. But when it was time to lead the cremellos to their new pasture, the dogs knew it.

They sensed Darby's excitement as she went to meet Megan. The walk was short. It took fewer than five minutes to go from Hoku's pen to the gate, but the impatient neighs of the cremellos made Darby break into a jog.

Megan fell in beside her, and Bart streaked two circles around their legs before bouncing back to Cade.

Cade was working on something at the open gate. Perfectly balanced, he squatted at eye level with the bolt. His head was bent to his task, which involved rubbing something on the slide that extended into the fence post.

At first Darby thought it was a bar of soap. Then she caught the aroma of honey.

“Beeswax,” Megan told her when she saw Darby lick her lips. “You wouldn't want to eat it, but it smells great, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Darby said as Cade stood and slipped the yellow-brown lump into his pocket.

“I've walked every inch of fence and made sure the bolt slides smoothly,” Cade told them. He turned away to yawn, and Darby noticed a piece of blond hair straggling out from under his hat. Cade's tight paniolo braid was missing. It looked like he'd just stuffed his hair up under his hat.

“You were up late last night, weren't you?” Darby sympathized.

“What's your point?” Cade asked, then frowned at the gate as if she'd criticized his work.

As if on cue both girls held up their hands, pretending to ward off his crankiness, then headed for the round pen.

Cash, the first cremello Darby picked out, was well mannered enough not to drag Darby off her feet, but
he pranced with excitement as she led him inside the gate of the grassy front pasture, slipped off his halter, and released him.

He scanned the enclosure, then burst into a run, tail cocked up high and streaming.

When the girls had moved all six of the cremellos, they leaned against the fence to watch them.

The pale horses raced over the grass, stopping to give bucks of joy, to roll with legs thrashing, then bolt to their hooves, to shake, and run again.

Although their coats ranged from stark white to tawny cream, all six horses had the same leggy conformation.

“Aren't they beautiful?” Megan asked.

“Like a flock of Pegasus, uh—”

“Pegasus
es
?” Megan suggested.

“Yeah,” Darby said.

“Even though Babe takes good care of her horses, I bet this is the biggest pasture they've had for years,” Megan mused.

Darby pictured her great-aunt Babe's Sugar Sands Cove Resort and nodded in agreement. The landscaped acres were designed to be a deluxe getaway for humans, not horses. The cremellos had lived in a well-tended paddock, but there hadn't been much room for stretching their long, slender legs.

All at once, Darby thought of Honi the pony, running on short, sturdy legs ahead of Hoku yesterday.

No matter what Dee wanted, someone should examine Honi.

Even if tests
were
expensive, and even if Dee was right that a vet couldn't “eyeball” the pony and make a diagnosis, someone had to take an interest in the elfin creature.

Elfin equine,
Darby was thinking, when suddenly an idea popped into her mind.

Aunty Cathy had said they were going to the feed store. Cricket would be there. She'd talk to Cricket and see if the Animal Rescue Society had jurisdiction over animals that were allowed to run free. They might capture and keep the pony for her own good, just until the danger of disease had passed.

“Have fun!” Darby called to the cremellos, and then she tugged Megan's sleeve. “Let's go. We can't let your mom leave without us!”

The girls stampeded toward their rooms together, but Darby's face and hands were washed first and she was dressed in a clean yellow T-shirt, good jeans, and brown boots in under five minutes.

A record,
Darby thought as she stood in front of Sun House. She'd taken her long hair out of its ponytail, brushed it briskly, and let it swing loose behind her back. She shifted restlessly, certain her blood was carbonated and fizzing in impatience.

Darby reminded herself that Honi had looked healthy, even perky, yesterday, but bacteria had a way of hiding inside for a while, didn't they? For Honi,
every minute could count.

Megan and Aunty Cathy finally hurried down from their upstairs apartment, and they all climbed into the Land Rover.

“I wish you'd lose that hat,” Aunty Cathy said. As she drove slowly out of the ranch yard, she glanced in the rearview mirror at the beloved baseball cap Megan wore, her ponytail poking through the back.

Megan's chin rose in stubbornness, but only for a few seconds. Then, she pulled off the cap, took down her hair, and fluffed it with her fingers.

“Hey, Mom?” Megan asked. “Do you know if Black Lava's herd is still on the football field?”

“They didn't move them yet, did they? They couldn't have!” Darby blurted, but Megan reached over and patted her hand in reassurance.

“I don't think so,” Aunty Cathy said.

“Well, if they're still there, can we go see them?” Megan asked. “Before they're gone for good?”

“Maybe on the way home. Let's see how our time goes,” Aunty Cathy replied.

They were only a few miles from ‘Iolani Ranch when the signs of earthquake damage started to show.

“What are you so nervous about?” Megan asked Darby.

“I'm not,” Darby said automatically.

“You're scratching your fingernails along the seams of your jeans,” Megan observed.

“I'm worried about Honi, Cade's mom's pony.”

“She's probably fine. If she's lived in Crimson Vale—or around there—for most of her life, she probably knows what to eat and drink, and I bet her immunities would be pretty good, right, Mom?”

“You'd have to ask a vet. Or Tutu.” Aunty Cathy's voice piped higher at that idea. “I'm okay at patching up injuries, but when it comes to invisible bugs, I'm not much help.”

“I'll talk to Cricket,” Darby said, checking her plan with the others.

“Good idea,” Megan said.

“It is. In fact, my first stop is the hardware store, but I can drop you at the feed store and come back,” Aunty Cathy said, pulling into the parking lot at the rear of the feed store.

“Are you sure, Mom?” Megan asked.

“We have to help you load the pipe,” Darby protested.

“I can get plenty of help at the hardware store. You two go ahead and talk horses with Cricket.”

“I hope Cricket's working,” Megan said as they climbed out of the car.

As they went through the back door, Darby breathed in the rich smells of grain and leather. Bags of feed—everything from chick scratch to broodmare chow—were piled to the ceiling, creating aisles.

They saw Cricket by stacks of baled hay. Her glasses had slid down her nose and she was peering over the tops of them, glancing between her clipboard
and a tower of cardboard boxes.

She looked up at the sound of their steps and her businesslike smile broadened as she saw Megan and Darby coming toward her.

“Hey, girls!” she greeted them. “What's up?”

They'd just started to explain when the phone clipped to Cricket's belt rang. She held up one finger and answered it.

“Sorry,” she said to the caller. “I know, and I'll be glad to write down your name, but—I know,” she repeated, then glanced up at Megan and Darby and mouthed something that looked like
Tutu
.

Could that be right? Darby decided she must have misunderstood.

“…last I heard she was back over Crimson Vale way. Good luck.”

“Someone called here looking for Tutu? Really?” Darby asked as Cricket hung up the phone.

“It's been going on all week,” Cricket said. “Almost everyone who's come in has seen Tutu or wants to get in touch with her.”

As skilled as her great-grandmother was as an herbal healer, Darby was amazed. Tutu made her remedies and poultices in the kitchen of her small cottage, working amid bamboo wind chimes, jars of plants, shells, and herbs at an old-fashioned stove.

Her great-grandmother had no phone, no Internet or fax machine, and yet she managed to be there when people needed her.

“No one considers her age,” Megan said, frowning.

“Not even her,” Darby added, but she knew Megan was right.

Tutu was Jonah's mother and Jonah was in his fifties. Regardless of her good health, Tutu needed to catch a nap once in a while. Even her horse, Prettypaint, was old.

“Have you talked to the men from the ARC today?” Megan asked.

Cricket shook her head, but her eyes strayed to Darby.

“I know,” she said, still embarrassed. “Mr. Klaus and I didn't exactly hit it off.”

Cricket chuckled. “You were pretty outspoken.”

“I hate helicopter roundups, and it felt like he didn't even care if horses would get hurt. But, I—” Darby shook her head and swallowed hard. “I don't know what came over me.”

“I do,” Megan said. “You were the same way with Manny. You lose your temper when people hurt animals.”

“
You
don't,” Darby said, turning to Cricket.

“I'm not thirteen years old,” Cricket whispered, and Darby laughed. From most other people, that would have sounded kind of uppity. But not from Cricket.

“There is that,” Megan said, then turned toward the front of the store as she heard a woman's voice.

“Klaus isn't a horse guy,” Cricket went on. “Or a people person for that matter, but he keeps an eye on
government agencies, makes sure they stand behind farmers and ranchers. He's big on efficiency, and you were trying to derail his plan. I'm sure he didn't appreciate that.”

“Especially not coming from a kid,” Darby added. A
whiny
kid, she thought to herself, but Cricket just shrugged.

“Cute thing, though. Even though he's not a horse guy, he's getting kind of fond of Black Lava, yeah? He's over at the high school every minute he can get away. If we don't move the horses soon, he's ordering water trucked in. Would've done it already, but we're all out of troughs.” Cricket gestured at the store and Darby nodded. ‘Iolani wasn't the only ranch being cautious about water.

But Megan's mind had veered back to two mornings ago, when Darby and Ann had made their secret attempt to watch the wild horses.

“Awesome!” Megan cried. “The school gates will be unlocked if he's over there. And Mom said we could probably go. And this time”—Megan jabbed a gentle elbow in Darby's ribs—“you won't get detention.”

“You girls want to help me unload this carton of fly spray?” Cricket asked.

They were almost finished putting the plastic spray bottles on a display, and Darby had just gotten the guts to ask Cricket about Honi, when the young woman said, “Since you girls aren't in school, we could use you as volunteers over at the rescue barn. The Department
of Health is going to start quarantining horses they think might be sick and some will be kept there.”

“Perfect,” Darby said, but Cricket was moving among cardboard boxes, using a box cutter to slash them open, and didn't seem to hear.

“Taking precautions against salmonella—” Cricket glanced up to see their puzzlement. “Horses can develop it when they're under stress and these sure have been. So, we're scrubbing down every inch of every stall, every bucket, and every grain scoop. You name it and we're disinfecting it.”

“As long as Jonah doesn't need us at the ranch, I'm in,” Megan agreed.

“I'd like to do that,” Darby said.

“Great,” Cricket said. “I came into the store at seven this morning. I'll be off at three and go over to the barn. I'll work there until we're finished.”

Cricket broke off to direct a customer to the bulletin board that listed livestock for sale and riding camps, and by the time she turned back to the girls, Darby had decided it would probably be better, and certainly more private, to talk with Cricket about Honi at the barn.