Western Star (6 page)

As they set off in the cool morning twilight, the country looked different than it had the day before in its afternoon winter wear. To the left, in the east, the first hint of dawn made pink streaks in the velvet sky.

“Oh, I’d forgotten how much I love this,” Lisa said. “No matter how cold it is!”

“Ha! You call this cold?” Gary asked. “Why, I remember riding through four-foot drifts of snow in Montana when it was thirty below zero. Now
that
was tough on the riders!”

“To say nothing of the horses,” Lisa added. “Why were you doing that?” She thought it must have been an emergency to put the horses and riders at such a risk.

“It was pretty country,” Gary said. “I didn’t want to miss the view.”

“If you want a view, then you’re going to have to ride up to Parson’s Rock later on,” Kate said. She pointed at the outcropping to their left.

“What’s the matter with riding up it now?” Gary asked.

“It’s a steep path. It’s too dark right now to do it safely, and it’s too steep to do it bareback. We can ride out this afternoon and we’ll show you the way.”

“I don’t know that I’ll want to ride again today,” Gary said. He tugged Spot’s reins and made the Appaloosa turn to the left. “I want to go up there now.”

“I really don’t think we should—” Kate began.

“It’s okay. I understand why you don’t want to, but I want to do it,” Gary said. “You go on ahead. I’ll follow your trail in the snow.”

“Gary—” Carole began. Kate cut her off.

“If you want to, go ahead. Just please be careful. My parents would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you,” Kate said.

“Mine wouldn’t, either,” Gary said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” said Kate. With that Gary spurred Spot to a trot and the two of them disappeared into the evergreen patch that covered the base of the hill capped by Parson’s Rock.

“Is he going to be all right?” Carole asked.

Kate shrugged. “He says he’s a good rider. He’ll have to be to make that climb. But one thing I know is that if it can be done, Spot will do it. If it can’t be done, Gary’s going to find himself on one stubborn horse! He may or may not make it to the top. He definitely will be safe. Come on, let’s get going. I think we’re going to get the best view of the sunrise from the crest of that hill over there. We may even be able to find the herd again.”

The riders moved forward through the high meadow. They reached the crest of the hill a moment before sunrise. The five of them waited silently for the sun to make its appearance. They didn’t have to wait long. Nor could they see much when it happened.

It hadn’t been easy to tell before the sun came up, but most of the sky was covered with a thick blanket of clouds. The sky brightened in the east as the sun came up, but it was hardly the breathtaking sight they’d seen on cloudless mornings in the summer.

“I think it’s daylight,” Christine remarked. It made them all laugh.

“Well, tomorrow is another day,” Stevie said philosophically.

“I’m not absolutely certain about that,” Kate said.

“About tomorrow being another day?” Stevie asked.

“Well, of course, it is, but look at those clouds. That’s not just an overcast. Those clouds are heavy. They have a purplish cast to them. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“It’s going to rain grapes?” Stevie asked brightly.

“Not exactly,” said Kate, laughing. “It looks to me like snow—and lots of it.”

“Oh, goody! We can build a snowman!” said Lisa.

“Make angels!” Carole declared.

“Have a snowball fight!” Stevie said.

Kate shook her head sadly and looked at Christine. “I guess three girls from Virginia don’t know what a real snowstorm can be,” Kate said.

“Sure we do,” said Carole. “We have occasional snowstorms in Virginia. We had a good inch and a half last week. They even closed school for a day!”

Christine hooted. “For an inch and a half of snow!”

“The streets were slippery,” Lisa explained.

“With an inch and a half of snow!” said Kate. “Wait until you see what happens with fifteen inches of snow!”

“Fifteen?”

“Well, maybe not. But we’ll see. Anyway, expect snow before the day is out. Come on, let’s quit the weather report and get moving. Maybe we can find the herd.” She urged Moonglow forward, toward where they’d seen the herd the day before.

On the way, Kate was pleased to see that her temporary fence was holding and would stay secure until John and his father could come out later in the morning. However, she wasn’t so pleased when she saw that there was a new break in the fence.

“What the?…,” Kate mumbled.

“Again?” Christine said.

“How could that be?” Lisa asked.

“Maybe the winter has just been too harsh for the fence,” Carole suggested.

“Maybe,” said Kate. She didn’t sound as if she believed it, though. Fortunately she had another rope on her saddle horn. Once again she fashioned a temporary fence with the rope and made a mental note to tell the Brightstars to look for two breaks in the fence, not just one.

Kate turned out to be right about the herd. The horses
were very near where the girls had found them the day before. They had just moved to another side of the open meadow. It was still early and most of the horses were at rest, standing with their heads lowered. A few were lying down. The stallion looked up as the riders approached but, sensing no danger, lowered his head quickly.

The girls stopped to watch. Lisa scanned the herd, looking for the dun mares and the gelding that had been playing “touch football” the day before. She didn’t see them.

“Where did they go to?” she asked Stevie, who was looking for the same threesome.

“Beats me,” she said. “Maybe the winners went to Disney World?”

“Very funny,” Carole remarked.

“They might be around someplace,” Kate said. “But the herd is a sometime thing. It’s possible that some of the group broke off and went to a new place. We could find them over that hill to the left or beyond the one to the right. If this land were completely flat, it would be easy, but it’s not. They are around.”

Lisa was disappointed. She had felt as if the playful threesome were her new friends. She wanted to see them again.

“There’s the pregnant mare!” Stevie said. It wasn’t hard to find her. She was, if anything, larger than she’d been the day before.

“She looks like she’s about to give birth to a three-year-old,” Carole joked.

They heard hoofbeats behind them. They turned to see Gary approaching at a lope.

“He shouldn’t be riding that fast on frozen ground,” Stevie said to Lisa. “That’s not safe.”

“Especially when the ground is covered with snow so he can’t see if there are rocks or anything,” Lisa said. She was about to signal him to slow down, but he was already slowing Spot to a walk as he reached the party.

“Did you get to the top?” Kate asked.

“I sure did,” Gary said. “And it was worth every bit of work.”

“Quite a view, isn’t it?” Carole said.

“You bet it is. I watched the sunrise from up there. It was glorious.”

“Well, there are a lot of beautiful things around here,” Carole said. “And I’ll—I mean
we’ll
be glad to show them all to you.”

“Why, thank you,” Gary said graciously.

“Right now, the most beautiful thing I can think of seeing is a stack of pancakes about fifteen feet high,” Stevie said.

“I think that means it’s time to get back to the ranch,” Kate said. “Let’s go. Carole, you lead the way.”

Carole was pleased to do so. Gary rode next to her,
and the two of them were quickly chatting easily about horses and then about country-and-western music.

Lisa rode next to Kate. Stevie and Christine brought up the rear.

“That Gary is a mighty powerful person,” Kate said to Lisa.

“Oh, I guess money and talent can make someone powerful,” Lisa remarked.

“Even more than that,” said Kate.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, at this time of year, I’ve never been able to see the sunrise from the top of Parson’s Rock. I guess that means Gary is so powerful that he can move the sun!”

“You mean he lied about getting to the top?”

“He had to,” Kate said. “In December, the sun rises to the southeast, not the east. There’s no southeast view from up there.”

Lisa laughed. “I guess maybe when you’re rich and famous it’s hard to admit you can’t do something.”

“Personally, I think admitting to failure is preferable to lying, but then I’m not rich and famous, am I?” Kate said.

Behind them Stevie burst into song. She often did that when riding at the Bar None, though her friends had done everything they could to convince her that even the coyotes did a better job of singing than she did. Stevie was a girl with many strengths and talents. Singing wasn’t one of them.

“Oh, give me a home! Where the buffalo roam!” she screeched.

Gary turned around to look at her. Before she could take another breath, he took up the tune where she’d left it off.

“ ‘And the deer and the antelope play,’ ” he sang. His voice was everything Carole had said it was—rich and strong, velvety smooth and gentle.

“Maybe a voice like that
can
move the sun,” Lisa said to Kate.

“Maybe,” Kate agreed, sighing with pleasure at the joyous sound of Gary Finnegan’s music.

“A
REN
’
T YOU COMING
in for breakfast?” Carole asked Gary when they returned to the ranch.

“No thanks,” said Gary. “I’ll eat with my parents in our suite. We’ve got some work to do on a new arrangement after that. Since you’re such a fan, I’d invite you to listen in, but my parents get funny about secrecy when we’re trying something new …”

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize,” Carole said. “It just means I have something to look forward to. And when it hits the top of the charts, I’ll know where it began.”

“Thanks,” he said. Then he veered off to the Creek Suite.

Stevie tugged at Carole’s sleeve. “You’re gushing, Carole.”

Carole started to blush.

“Don’t worry,” Lisa said calmly. “I don’t think he noticed.”

“Oh, I hope not,” said Carole. “It’s just that he’s—”

“I know,” said Stevie. “He’s Gary Finnegan.”

“I guess you
do
understand,” said Carole.

“I don’t, but I have to say, the boy can sing,” Stevie said. “In fact, he sings much better than I do.”

“
Stewball
sings better than you do,” Lisa teased.

“That’s not my singing you’re hearing. That’s my grumbling stomach,” Stevie said.

“There may be no cure for the voice, but there is a cure for the grumbling stomach,” Kate said. “And I can smell it from out here. Let’s go.”

The five girls tromped into the main house. The closer they got to the dining room, the more delicious breakfast smelled. By the time they sat down, they were starving. Fortunately Phyllis had made an enormous stack of pancakes. The plate emptied quickly while the guests served themselves. As fast as Stevie could say “Pass the butter, pass the bacon, pass the syrup—uh, please,” she was ready to eat.

The Katzes were at the table and asked the girls about their morning ride. The girls were delighted to reenact it. They told how they’d found the horse herd in case the Katzes wanted to ride there later in the day.

“Not too late, though,” Kate said. “It looks like it’s going to snow.”

Frank Devine joined the others at the table. As he poured himself some coffee, he turned to his daughter.

“Do you know anything about a break in the fence?” he asked her.

“Sure do,” she said. “In fact, there were two. We saw one last night and I tied it up with my rope. Then, when we were out there this morning, there was another. I might not have noticed it at all except for the two idiots who came over from the Westerlys’ land yesterday. They said they’d come through the gate. Only a total greenhorn can’t tell the difference between a broken fence and an open gate. Anyway, I told John and Walter about both breaks. They’re going out there this morning to fix them.”

“I think I’m going to have to go myself,” Frank said.

“Why?” Phyllis asked him as she pulled up her own chair to the table.

“Well, I just had a call from Westerly. He told me that half his herd of horses is missing. He asked me to check and see if they somehow got onto Bar None land and joined our herd.”

“They might have,” Kate said. “That fence was wide open all night long.”

“No, Kate,” Carole said. “We saw the Bar None herd. There were no extra horses there. In fact—don’t you remember?
There were fewer horses than we saw yesterday.”

“Fewer?” Frank Devine asked.

“Sure,” Stevie told him. “We especially noticed that three horses who’d been playing touch football yesterday—”

“Touch football?” Ellen Katz said.

“Don’t mind Stevie,” Frank said, smiling. “She has a very active imagination.”

“But she’s also got sharp eyes, Dad,” Kate reminded him. “We were watching a pair of dun mares and a gelding play around yesterday. They definitely weren’t there this morning.”

“Do you think part of the herd might have split off?” Frank asked.