Blind Fury (2 page)

Kara laughed and threw her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. If Anne said it, then it must be all right.” Her little brother was growing up, but like Mom had always said, he was an accident waiting to happen. She started to lecture him about using matches only when an adult was around, but he had already grabbed a lantern from the tack room and was running out the door.

Another burst of wind swirled sawdust across the floor. Kara shivered in spite of her heavy sweatshirt and jeans.

“I'm out of here,” Tia yelled over the noise. “I'm hoofing it, and it's a long way home.”

“I don't think you'd better plan on going anywhere,” Colin said from the doorway. Kara followed his gaze to the boiling black clouds blowing toward them on heavy gusts of wind. “You girls head for the house. I'll secure the barn and be right there.”

Colin was being bossy again, but Kara didn't argue. She helped Tia gather up research papers the wind had scattered, then the two of them sprinted out of the barn and up the gravel drive. They reached the covered porch just as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall.

Anne met them at the door, her leg still encased in a thick, white walking cast. “A short storm, I think,” she said, “but a heavy one. We will have some damage this time.”

Kara shivered again. Would she ever get used to Anne's predictions? The spookiest thing was, the woman was always right.

Dad had laughed the one time Kara had asked him about it. “There's nothing to be spooked about,” he had said. “She just uses common sense. And,” he had added, “a lifetime of experience.”

Anne's Nez Perce father had been a scholar as well as a farmer. He had seen to it that Anne and her brothers received a good education. He had also written books about Native American history and folklore. Anne had gained a lot of her knowledge from him. Her wisdom, she insisted, came from God.

Tia dashed into the living room, and Kara's dad handed her the phone. Kara could hear the static clear across the room.

“Sure, Pops,” Tia yelled into the mouthpiece. “Mr. Sheridan says I can spend the night . . .” A loud POP
sounded through the receiver. “Rats, lost him.” She handed the phone back to Kara's dad.

“Phone lines are down,” Colin said as he pushed through the doorway along with Kara's older brother, Greg.

“No doubt,” Greg agreed. “Sounded like one of the poles snapped in half.” He handed his dripping coat to Anne, but one look from Dad, and he snatched it back. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It's too windy to hang it on the porch.”

Anne just nodded. “I'm glad you are home safe.” She looked at Colin, who stood holding his own dripping hat and coat. “Put them in the laundry room. The carpet will dry.”

Kara breathed a sigh of relief as both of the guys headed toward the kitchen. Two months ago, Greg would have argued and stormed out of the room. But since Dad's friend, Bud Davis, had counseled him, Greg had changed. Kara knew he still missed Mom, but he didn't seem quite as angry anymore.

She felt tears well up and turned toward the window so no one would see. They were all still grieving, including her, but she had to admit things were better than they'd been at first. Once she had gotten over her resentment of Anne and realized the woman wasn't trying to take Mom's place, she was able to let go of some of the burdens she'd been carrying like a sack of rocks around her neck.

Anne had been a big help all summer at Eagle Lodge. After the injuries she'd suffered in the fire had healed enough for her to be released from the hospital, she'd gone for a short visit with her family in Idaho, then come back to help out at the ranch. Ryan loved her, and Kara was grateful to have more time for homework and friends.

The wind blew sheets of rain against the window. Kara gasped as a huge branch snapped off a fir tree, flew
through the air, and landed with a thud just inches from the house.

“Wow! That was close.” Tia grabbed Kara's arm. “Come on. Your dad wants us to be sure all the upstairs windows are closed.”

Another loud CRACK, like an explosion, rocked the house. Kara saw a huge flash of light, and then the room went dark.

“Yeah!” Ryan's excited yelp nearly shattered her eardrums. “Now I get to light the candles.”

B
Y
TEN
O
'
CLOCK
THE
RAIN
had turned to sleet. Colin checked on the horses and reported they were doing fine. The barn wasn't new, but it had been built solidly and could stand up to just about anything.

Dad insisted Colin and Greg sleep in the main house instead of the old bunkhouse they were turning into an apartment. “That place could easily fall down around your ears, and I'm sure the plumbing is already frozen,” he warned them.

When it had been decided that Anne was to live at the ranch, Dad had given her Greg's room. Greg was just as happy rooming with Colin in the bunkhouse, even though Anne couldn't climb the stairs to Greg's room right now because of her cast. She'd been sleeping in the recliner in the living room.

“We should all sleep downstairs tonight,” Dad said. “Ryan can have the couch. The boys and I will use sleeping bags on the floor and take turns keeping the fire going.” He looked at Wakara. “It's up to you, Sugar Bear, but I think you and Tia will be better off down here with us. It's freezing upstairs.”

Tia's eyes brightened. “Cool. Lots of Indian tribes slept in community lodges to keep from freezing in the winter.” She looked to Anne for confirmation, and Anne nodded.

“You have studied well,” Anne said.

Kara couldn't help matching her friend's proud grin. Tia had studied hard after getting an F in American History and had brought her grade up to a B.

Kara's stomach did a nosedive as she listened to ice crystals pelt the side of the house. The game! It was tomorrow night. What if school was canceled, or the roads were washed out, and they couldn't go?

She felt Anne's arm slip around her shoulders and give a gentle squeeze. “This storm will pass by morning.”

Once again the woman had managed to read her thoughts, but Kara was grateful for the encouragement, and for the comfort of a hug.

If only Anne were Mom
. She pushed the thought away and prayed Anne couldn't see it in her face. Yet somehow she didn't think Anne would be offended.

Kara fell asleep right away, but when the lights snapped on at 5
A.M.
, she groaned and scrunched farther down in her sleeping bag, burying her head and eyes. In spite of their best intentions, the fire had gone out during the night and the room felt like a walk-in freezer. When warm air began to blow through the heat registers, someone got up and flicked off the lights.

Two hours later, Kara felt a light touch on her shoulder as Anne's voice roused her from her dreams. “Get up, please. School begins at ten o'clock.”

She yawned and crawled out of her sleeping bag, grateful for the warmth that greeted her. “Thanks, Anne. I'll take a shower and help you with breakfast.”

Anne smiled. “No need. The others have eaten. Only two birds stay late in their nests.”

Tia sat up and blinked. “Where'd everybody go?”

“The men check the stock. Ryan is upstairs. He could use some help, I think.” She moved back toward the kitchen as the unmistakable sounds of gunfire and hoofbeats echoed down the stairs.

Tia giggled. “You mean, he needs a kick in the—”

“She means,” Kara interrupted, “he needs some redirection. He knows he's not supposed to watch John Wayne on a school morning.”

“Thank you Psych 101.” Tia scrambled out of her bedroll and headed for the stairs. “You redirect, and I'll hit the shower.”

By the time Kara dressed, ate breakfast, and fed Lily, sunlight danced across the soggy fields. Most of the ice from last night's storm had melted. Out here everyone took the same school bus, and Ryan ran ahead of Kara and Tia as far as the footbridge. “Wow! Look! It's really flooding.” He pushed up onto the railing and balanced on his belly to see under the bridge.

Kara's heart did a flip. The image of her little brother falling partway over the cliff at Tunnel Falls was still fresh in her memory. Evidently he hadn't learned any lessons. She fought the urge to yell, but jogged to the bridge and grabbed the back of his pants. She yanked hard and pulled him off the railing, scraping his belly on the rough wood.

“Ow! Stop that!” he yelled.

She wanted to shake him. Instead she took a deep breath, counted to ten, and let it out. “Ryan Sheridan, when are you going to learn . . . ?” The look on his face stopped her.

“I-I-I'm s-sorry, Kara. I won't do it again, I promise.” He flung his arms around her legs, and she could feel his body shaking.

Tia ran up, breathing like a steam engine. She flashed Kara a mixed look of panic and relief, and pointed toward
the crossroad. “The bus is coming, you guys. We'd better hustle if we want a ride.” She tugged on Ryan's arm and led him across the bridge.

“What am I going to do with him, Mom?” Kara whispered. “One of these days he's going to get into real trouble, and I won't be able to help him.”

Let go and get a grip on God
. A picture of the bumper sticker on Colin's pickup flashed into her mind.

She swiped at a tear that was dripping off her nose and hurried to the waiting bus.

The only class she missed that day was American Government, which to Wakara was no big loss. English was her favorite. They were writing short stories this term, and she had formed a plot based on her summer experience with the forest fire.

Mr. Jaminson had even asked her to share some of her survival techniques in Health and Safety. That was harder. She talked about how she had soaked a bandanna in the river and tied it around her nose and mouth to filter the smoke, then explained how they had rationed drinking water and used smoke signals to attract attention from the planes. When she was done, Mr. Jaminson led the class in applause and said, “Well, young lady, how does it feel to be a hero?”

Kara took a deep breath. Could she really tell the truth? The kids might laugh, but she knew she had to try.

“It wasn't me, Mr. Jaminson.” She turned back to face the class. “God is the real hero. He's the one who showed me where to go and what to do. If I hadn't prayed and asked Him to show me the way out, we would never have found the path under the ledge. And without God, I would never have had the courage to look for it.”

Some of the kids snickered. A few nodded. Most just looked down at their desks. Mr. Jaminson cleared his
throat. “Uh, thank you, Wakara.” But as she passed him to get to her seat, he smiled and whispered, “You have more courage than you think.”

Right
, she thought.
Then why are my hands shaking
?

By the time the last bell rang, all Kara could think about was the football game—and if she was really honest, her group date with Colin. The church bus was leaving at four o'clock. They still had to change and grab a bite to eat. She joined Tia in a cheer when they saw the car. “All right! Mom to the rescue!”

Ryan was already buckled into the front seat, so she squeezed into the back with Tia. “Thanks, Mrs. Sanchez, this will really save us some time.”

“No problem.” Tia's mom put the car in gear and turned left onto Center Street. “Your bags are in the trunk. You can change at the church. Wakara, your dad sent along wool socks and a warm jacket. It's going to get cold again tonight.”

Tia sniffed. “Hey, food!”

“Superburgers!” Ryan hefted a white bag over his head. “I get one too.”

His tone dared anyone to say otherwise, and Kara laughed along with the rest. She couldn't say he'd ruin his dinner, because she knew it wasn't true. Her little brother ate like a linebacker and stayed skinny as a twig.

Colin met them at the church. He seemed really glad to see her, but was kind of quiet on the two-hour bus ride to the game.
Who can blame him
? Kara thought.
It's not like he knows anybody but Tia and me
. And Tia was no help. She sat across from them chattering a hundred miles an hour with her boyfriend, Devon. Most of the others were just as hyper. Kara heard more than she wanted to know about Brian—“Slip and Slide”—Coleman. The new quarterback was supposed to be a superstar. According to most of the
kids, he was meaner than a rattlesnake and faster than a cobra.

“I'll believe it when I see it,” Colin muttered. “If he's that slippery he probably won't be able to hang on to the ball.” He flashed Kara a grin, scooted down in the seat, and pulled his hat over his eyes.

Kara steamed silently.
Fine, if Colin Jones wants to be rude, I can just ignore him
.

Colin was quiet for most of the game. He kept getting up to buy food, or just walk around behind the bleachers. “You don't need to come,” he told her at least five times. “I'll be back in a minute.”