#1 Blazing Courage (4 page)

I am quiet as the reality of my behavior sinks in.

“You've got to fix this,” he says. “Undo the damage you did.”

“How?” I question him, and myself. Not a scrap of confidence survived the collision.

“You scared her to death,” Jack says, “and worse, you let a green horse prove she was the boss. If you don't fix that now, you can forget ever being a team.”

I worry about her bolting again, about her jumping the last wooden rail, about what people watching us might think. But losing Jack's respect worries me more. So I do exactly as he says.

Poco is still breathing hard. She is still afraid of me and the exercise ring. But after three failed attempts and two more falls in the mud, she finally jumps over the bottom rung back into the exercise ring. I smile when we succeed, but Jack does not.

“You're done for today,” he says. “Go call you parents.”

I walk to the barn alone as Jack tends to Poco in the ring. I try not to cry, but it's impossible. I let my horse and my only friend down, and now I have to explain it to my parents. I can't think of a better reason to cry.

When Jeff rolls up, Jack leads Poco to the driver's side and talks to him for a few minutes while I gather my things. They laugh and shake hands, but Jack doesn't look at me. I wish he would. I want to say I'm sorry, but he's like granite. He turns and walks Poco to the barn as I climb into the car. I wipe tears from my face with my sleeve.

“Tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder, “You listen to me. Are we clear?”

“We're clear,” I say.

“And tomorrow,” he continues, “you mend the broken fence.”

Jack is too far away to hear, but I say it anyway. “I'll make this right.”

“Sounds like a rough one,” Jeff says, and squeezes my hand.

The rest of the drive home is quiet, but I'm glad. There's nothing good left to say. I spend the rest of the night in my room. And when I sleep, not a dream comes to mind. I'm grateful for that, too.

CHAPTER SIX

Mending Fences

“I hear you have chores to do,” Peggy says when I get to the stable with lumber and tools. I have chores every day, and she knows it. But it's hard to miss the shattered rails, and bad news travels fast.

“Nothing new,” I say walking past her toward the ring. We both know that's a lie.

“I would have paid a lot of money to watch you fly,” she says, laughing. She grabs Jinx by the mane and swings up on him, bareback. They head for the open pasture for an autumn run, just as I pound in the very first nail.

An hour later, Peggy is back to catch her fancy ride home, and the new slats are up on the old posts. If the boards weren't so fresh, you would hardly notice the difference. I gather the tools and carry them back to the office where Jack sits behind his desk.

“You finished?” he asks, and I nod without a word. He walks to the office window to evaluate my work. I hope I see him smile, but I'm not sure. Or maybe I'm afraid to look. “C'mon,” he says. We walk to Poco's stall to find her and Jinx standing head to head.

“Glad you finally found a friend,” Jack says.

“I'm Poco's friend too,” I whisper. I try not to cry, but it's not working. We walk two steps, and the sniffles begin.

“Take a breath,” he says, finally putting his arm around my shoulders. “You will do better today, right?”

I nod, relieved that I am forgiven. Then the floodgates fall, but we keep walking.

“Besides,” he says as he as he moves ahead of me, “I was talking to Jinx.”

“Can we try it again?” I ask. Jack picks up the old saddle and heads for the ring I just repaired. I have my answer.

Poco is not eager to repeat our recent history, and neither am I. But Jack is right. I have to fix what I've broken. I have to win back Poco's trust.

“Let's go back to square one,” I say. I pull a bag of apple slices from my pocket, but Poco turns away. I'm pretty sure I deserve that, but we walk on.

Jack opens the gate and takes Poco's lead. Good strategy, I think. He didn't cause her pain, so he should bring her in. Once we reach the center of the ring, Jack says it's my turn, and I know exactly what to do.

It's time to prove who I really am—or at least who I want to be. So I speak softly, lovingly, as I offer her the apple slice again. This time, she doesn't refuse. I lay my head against her neck and whisper thank you. I get a lump in my throat when she leans back.

“There we go,” Jack says. “Horses always know the good guys.” It may be the nicest thing he's ever said. We put on her saddle and bridle and, eventually, she lets me climb on. I settle gently into the seat, then we walk. Jack holds the reins at first. We circle the ring a couple of times. Then he hands the reins back to me.

“Slow and easy,” he says. “Keep it up while I check on the barn.”

“Should I try a little trot?” I ask.

“Poco will let you know,” he says. “But be gentle with the bit. Her mouth is tender from yesterday, and you don't want to cause her more pain.” I nod, but he can see I'm worried. “Don't look so scared,” he says. “I wouldn't leave you if I didn't think you could handle it.”

Being alone with Poco frightens me. But she is my horse. She's four years old, and I'm fourteen. We could be together another twenty years, if we're lucky. So we have to come to an understanding. It starts with this walk—around and around and around. And we talk a little as we go.

“You have a right to be mad at me,” I say. Her ears swivel back to listen. I know she doesn't understand the words, but she can read my tone, and it's different. “I was wrong to rush you yesterday, but I promise never to do it again.” She shakes her head, but she's not arguing. The wind is just tickling her ears.

“I will make other mistakes,” I continue. “But I will never be jealous again. I know why you love Jack. We're lucky to have him to teach us. If I work hard, he'll show me how to earn your love. So I WILL work hard.”

With every pass around the ring, my mood lifts and I wonder if she feels the same. “Do you want to try a trot?” I ask, and I hope her answer is yes. I do not kick. I gently squeeze with my legs, and like magic, she begins to trot. I feel triumphant for the first time in days, like I just won the blue ribbon. Then I ease her back to a walk and climb off.

“What are you grinning about?” Jack says walking back into the ring. I don't know what to say, so I just keep smiling. He ruffles my hair like I'm a puppy. Sometimes being happy is enough. Poco and I had a good day, and Jack is back on my side. Or maybe I'm back on his.

“Get back on and ride her up to the barn,” he says. “You've earned a victory lap.”

That's an easy ride. Even wild Mustangs run toward the barn when they're hungry. She might stop to flirt with Jinx on the way up, but that's okay. They really have become an odd little couple. But he's not in his paddock, so she heads right up to the barn. I slip her saddle and bridle off and look toward her stall. I can't see Jinx inside the barn, either.

“Where's Jinx?” I ask, and guesses fly—maybe he's on a trail ride, maybe he's in the pasture, maybe he's at the vet. No one really knows, but no one is worried, either, until I put Poco away and make a troubling discovery. The slide latch on Jinx's stall isn't just unlocked. It's lying on the ground.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lost and Found

Jack calls Lex Stockton, and it's official. No one took Jinx from the barn, and they haven't seen him since Peggy left the stable around noon. Jack says his next call will be to the police. Stealing a five-figure Thoroughbred is a crime.

But Lex is adamant. “No police,” he says. “We'll handle this matter in house.”

“Sure you will,” Jack says to the dial tone. But he's not satisfied. He decides to search for Jinx on his own. “Can you stick around for a while?” he asks. “I need someone to sit by the phones.” I say yes, but he doesn't wait to hear it. He saddles his horse Buckeye and heads for the doors.

Jack mounts Buckeye like a Hollywood cowboy, and I wonder, was he ever considered handsome? Something tells me he probably was.

“I've got my cell phone,” he hollers. “Call me if Jinx turns up.”

Losing a horse in Colorado in daylight is bad. Losing a horse in Colorado after dark is worse. Temperatures drop, terrain gets hard to navigate, and lately wolves have been making themselves known.

A pack killed an old sheep on the ranch next door. And at night we hear howling from the hills. Most packs won't take on a horse as big as Jinx. But if he's hurt or disoriented, things could go terribly wrong.

I call my mom to ask her to walk Abbey. I call Jeff so he won't swing by at 4:00 p.m. And I call Pizza Shack, because Jack will be hungry when he gets back. I'm just locking up when Peggy's town car appears at the doors and, of course, I let her in.

“Did you do this?” she asks. It's more accusation than question.

“Of course not,” I say. “I love Jinx. So does Poco.”

“It's her fault,” Peggy says. “She's so wild, she made him wander.”

“That's just stupid,” I say. “It's not like they have secret conversations. Get serious.”

“Shut up,” she says, “your kind knows nothing.” Normally, that would make me mad, but she's trying not to cry, and I know her parents are split up. I can't be annoyed and feel sorry for her at the same time. So sorry wins out.

“What do we know about what happened?” she asks.

“We know Jinx got out some time before 3:00 p.m. this afternoon,” I say. “That's when I noticed he was gone. But look at this.” I lead her back to the stall and show her the broken latch. “It's not just broken, it's destroyed. Someone did this on purpose.”

“Who would do that?” she asks.

“I have no idea,” I say. “But we have a better chance if we trust Jack to find out.”

Peggy is quiet. She runs her fingers across the broken wood and leans her head on Jinx's nameplate. “Okay,” she says. “But we have to find Jinx. And I'm not going home until we do.”

“Agreed,” I say. “Jack's got a couple of sleeping bags in the office. I'll get them. It's going to be a long, long night if he isn't back soon.” When I get back to the stalls with the bags, the pizza delivery guy is outside. I pay for the food out of petty cash and bring it inside, but neither one of us is hungry.

Peggy spends the next few hours on her smartphone, and I read a book I found collecting dust. Jack and Buckeye are back by midnight, but there's still no sign of Jinx. He grabs a slice and a soda and sits down beside us.

“Peggy, we'll find him,” he says. “I'll be back out on the trail at first light. And I'll sleep in the barn in case he shows up. You two can call your folks and head home.”

“We're not going anywhere,” Peggy says. She looks to me for backup.

“That's right,” I say. “We're in this together. We'll be able to sleep after he's found.” Jack can see this is locked in, so he gives up without a fight.

“Your parents approve?” he says. We nod. “A sleepover it is. But I'm old, so I get the office couch.”

Peggy and I slip into the bags and settle down for the night. We are surrounded by twenty-four sleeping horses, two cats, and one empty space. I can hear the animals breathing, but the saddest sound is Peggy's muffled sob. For the first time, I can see it. She needs Jinx as much as I need Poco. We've got to bring her best friend home.

Sleeping on the dirt floor of the stable is nearly impossible, but as I start to drift off, I hear Poco nickering. I lift my head, and she bumps it up a notch. She starts to neigh, then whinny. “Easy girl,” I whisper. “You're going to wake the whole stable.” But it's too late to quiet her. Something is on her mind, and she's not going to stop. So I decide to investigate.

I tiptoe into Jack's office to peek out the window. “Thank goodness,” I whisper. Jinx is standing outside.

“Indeed,” Jack says softly. I should have known he'd wake up. I turn around to give him a high five, but he's not celebrating. “He's not alone,” Jack says.

I turn back to the window. A massive wolf has Jinx cornered.

“Stay here,” Jack says, grabbing his baseball bat, but we run through the stable together.

Peggy wakes and yells, “What's happening?” But there's no time to answer.

Just as we get outside, Jinx rears up to defend himself. The yelps of a wolf in distress prove he has hit his mark. The battered canine runs for cover, and Jack leads the traumatized horse inside.

“Get the first aid kit,” he says, and I run to the office to retrieve it. Blood flows from a deep cut on the horse's dappled chest. Peggy looks on, as white as a stone.

“Is he wolf bit?” she whispers. “Will I lose my horse to rabies?”

“It wasn't the wolf,” Jack says. “The cut is too clean. It must have been barbed wire. He was smart enough to head home, but the smell of blood probably drew the wolf.” If he hadn't come home, we wouldn't have found his bones until spring. A pack of wolves can easily take down a wounded horse.

I'm on the phone to the vet before Jack can ask me to make the call, but he shouts out a reminder. “Tell her to bring a needle and thread.” A few hours later, Jinx has forty-six stitches and a bottle of antibiotics. “He'll be on easy duty for a few weeks,” Jack says. “But he'll be okay.” He leads Jinx back into his stall and ties it shut with a stretch of chain and a metal stake until the latch is repaired.

Peggy is relieved but out for blood of her own. “Find out who did this,” she says as the car pulls up to take her home. “I want someone to pay for every stitch. Can you do that, Jack?”

“I've got a few tricks up my sleeve,” he says.

“Let's hope so,” she says. “But don't forget my father's instructions.”