Blind Fury (3 page)

By the last quarter, everyone was huddled together on the bleachers, shivering from the icy wind that blew through the outdoor field. Wakara wished the game would end so they could take off. “Slip and Slide” Coleman had just fumbled for the second time, and the scoreboard showed 14 to 0 against Lariat with five minutes to go in the game.

Colin snorted, washed down his hot dog with the last of his Coke and gathered up the trash. “I'll bag this stuff and meet you at the bus,” he told Kara.

Kara bit her lip and held back the tears. He'd been a first-class jerk all evening. What had happened to the cool guy who had asked to be her escort for the game? “It's not like I forced him to come,” she muttered to herself.

Tia nudged her. “Colin's got the right idea. Let's go back to the bus. At least it'll be warmer in there.”

Kara practically jumped up the three steps into the bus. Colin was in the back talking to Mr. Andrews. Scratch that. Mr. Andrews was doing the talking. Colin was listening and nodding with the strangest look on his face.

She'd seen that look before, but on Dad's face, not Colin's. Dad had been standing on the deck at Eagle Lodge, staring out over the meadow past the river, his mouth twisted
in a weird half-smile, like he was listening for something. “Pensive” Anne had called it. She knew without a doubt Dad had been dreaming about her mother. Who, or what, was Colin thinking about?

Kara's anger melted as fast as an April snow. Colin had definitely been acting weird tonight, but he wasn't being deliberately mean. Something was bothering him. He'd lost both his parents to alcohol and divorce; maybe he was thinking about them. She could tell his ribs and shoulder were hurting from the cold. Sitting on those hard bleachers must have been torture. She should have realized he'd be uncomfortable, not to mention bored out of his mind.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Colin pulled off his gloves and laid a hand against her cheek. “Whoa. You're really cold.”

Act like nothing's wrong, Wako, or you'll just make it worse
. “I'm fine.” Her voice sounded like fingernails on a blackboard. She swallowed hard and tried again. “I'll warm up. Want the window seat?”

Colin shook his head. “Nah. The aisle's fine.” He eased into the seat next to her with a soft moan. “I'm sorry, Wakara. I know I haven't been much company tonight. Guess I haven't healed as well as I thought.”

His face was pale and his eyes, when she looked into them, were bright with pain.

O
N
S
ATURDAY
MORNING
, D
AD
TOOK
one look at Colin and ordered him to bed in Ryan's room. “You're down for the weekend, young man. Greg and I leave Monday morning for Eagle Lodge. I need you well enough to ride. If we're going to get those cows down out of the high country before winter hits, it's got to be soon, and I'm counting on you to get it done.”

He sounded stern, but Kara saw the worry on his face. Colin didn't argue, and she felt even guiltier about last night.

“He wouldn't have gone if it wasn't for me,” she e-mailed Tia. “The least I can do is handle the barn chores. Sorry, I know you wanted to show me your research stuff. Maybe tomorrow afternoon after church, okay?”

Kara groomed Dakota first. Lily was content to wait, but Ryan's pony, Star, nickered for attention. He was eighteen years old and gentle as a lamb, but she knew Ryan would soon outgrow him. Eighteen was too old to be kept outside with the working string, but they would probably still take him up to the lodge in the summer for the little kids to ride.

She finished picking Dakota's huge feet, then put a halter on Star. “Your turn.” She scratched behind his ears, then picked up a clean, soft brush. “Ryan should be doing this, you know.” The pony tossed his head. He knew Ryan's name, all right. When Dad had bought him two years ago for Ryan's birthday, it had been love at first sight for both of them.

But her little brother had gone to his friend Timmy's today. Timmy's family had been a godsend since Mom had died, keeping Ryan busy, even taking him on outings with their family. Lately, Ryan spent part of every weekend at their house.

She patted Star's rump, and he trotted out of the barn to join Dakota in the paddock. Ryan would be seven years old in November. Dad had always told them, “If you're old enough to ride, you're old enough to take care of your horse.” But with all the work of opening Eagle Lodge this summer, the grief over Mom's death, and then the forest fire, they had let Ryan's responsibilities slide.
Next Saturday
, she decided,
Ryan will start learning to take care of his own horse
.

She had just started to brush out Lily's mane, when the mare shied and danced off the mat. Kara took hold of the bridle to quiet her as an ancient Ford pickup rattled into the yard. The truck bed was full of plywood and bundles of insulation.

“Sorry, Wakara,” Bud Davis called over the din of the idling engine, “didn't mean to spook your horse, but your dad said he needed this stuff pronto. Know where he's at?”

Kara steadied Lily with one hand and pointed up the hill. “In the bunkhouse. He and Greg are trying to get it into shape for winter.”

“Where's Colin?”

She felt her face go red. “In bed. He's still in too much pain to work.”

Bud frowned. “Well, maybe I'll just go on up there and see what I can do to help.”

He would, too. Bud Davis was a longtime family friend. He had helped with more than one mess—including Greg. Greg's life was headed for the garbage can until Bud counseled him. After that, Kara's older brother had finally dealt with his grief and let God work in his life. Things weren't perfect. Greg was eighteen and could still be a pain, but he'd quit drinking and had stayed away from T.J. Magic and his gang.

The pickup rattled its way up the gravel drive. She had just settled Lily back into position on the grooming mat when she heard hoofbeats. Lily danced and whinnied, eager to greet Tia's horse, Patches, as Tia rode him into the yard.

“Hey.” Tia waved and dismounted, tying Patches to a post outside the barn. “Want some help? Pops is watching football, and Mom went grocery shopping.” She wrinkled her nose. “I'd rather help you clean the stalls so we can ride.”

Kara laughed and nodded toward the tack room. “You know where the rakes are.”

Leave it to Tia. Only she could find a way to make shoveling manure fun. Tia could drive you crazy, but Kara knew she'd never find a better friend.

With Dad and Greg working and Colin stuck in bed, Kara felt a little guilty as she saddled Lily for a ride. But the guilt feelings didn't last for long. When she was riding Lily, everything else just faded into the background. Her horse was spirited and strong, but gentle, and responded instantly to her every cue.

The wind had a nip to it as they jogged through the field behind the barn. Kara stopped long enough to zip her jacket, then she and Tia urged their horses into a run. Lily won the race as usual, but this time Patches was practically on her heels.

“Whew, almost got you that time,” Tia chortled as they slowed to a walk.

Kara reached over and patted the pretty paint. “You must be feeding him that special grain mixture again. He's not even blowing hard!”

Tia grinned. “Pops thinks Patches and I are ready to start barrel racing.”

She looked at Wakara with that pleading look, and Kara groaned. She knew what was coming; she could almost repeat it by heart.

“Please? You know I don't want to do it alone. Come on, Wakara, at least try it. Or team penning!” Her eyes lit up with this new idea. “Lily and Patches are so used to each other, and they both love cows—we'd be a cinch to take ribbons in that event.”

Kara couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. It would be fun. And Tia was right. Lily and Patches would clean house. Then she came back to reality.

“You know I can't,” she said softly. “I have to help Dad at Eagle Lodge all next summer. That knocks out most of the local competitions. And I sure don't have time to travel for the rodeo circuit.”

She hated the doomed look on Tia's face. “Sorry. You know I'll help you practice. Patches will be a great barrel racer, and you'll be bringing home all the ribbons on your own.”

Tia shrugged and dropped behind as they entered the narrow trail that wound into the woods. Kara inhaled the fresh smell of pine. They ducked under tree limbs and
stepped over branches felled by the storm. She hated to disappoint her best friend, but Tia had to understand that family came first. Her dad had made it clear he couldn't run Eagle Lodge without her. Or the ranch either for that matter. Sure, they had Anne now. And that was a big help. But with Mom gone, there was so much to do . . .

Kara's thoughts turned to the trail. “If we want to ride this winter, we'd better get out here and get some of these branches picked up,” she called back to Tia.

When there was no answer, Kara looked over her shoulder. Tia was stopped about twenty yards back, looking into the woods and trying to keep Patches from throwing his head.

“What is it? What's wrong?” Kara called.

Tia spun Patches around and urged him up the trail toward them. Lily's ears went up, and she began to sidestep nervously. Kara rubbed Lily's neck to calm her.

Tia's face was pale as a ghost. “Tia, you're scaring me. What did you see?”

“I don't know,” Tia panted. “Patches stopped and didn't want to budge. Then I saw the branches move, but I couldn't see anything.” She tightened up on the reins. “He's still spooked. Something's out there.”

Stay calm
. “Stay calm.” She said it aloud. “If we get upset, the horses will too.”

Lily's ears went back as she flung her head. Kara felt the mare's muscles tense and knew she was getting ready to rear. She put all her concentration into keeping Lily's head down.

Lily spun in circles, not wanting to go forward or back. Patches was just as bad, practically climbing onto Lily's back. They were spooking each other, and Kara wasn't sure what to do.

There is nothing to fear but fear itself
. Where had she heard that?
Lord, I'm really afraid. Please calm me down and show me what to do
.

Lily spun forward and raced up the trail, taking twists and turns without a pause and jumping over fallen limbs. Kara hung on with all her might and prayed that Tia and Patches were right behind her—she couldn't hear a thing over the sound of her own heartbeat rushing in her ears.

Her stomach jumped in fear when she realized Devil's Creek was dead ahead. The creek was usually just bridle deep and about six feet wide, but now it was more like a river, swollen with floodwater from the recent storm. If Lily plunged them into the current, there was no doubt in Kara's mind they would drown.

Tia screamed, “Look out!”

Like I have any control
! But Kara sat up a little and eased back on the reins. Lily came to a stop only inches from the raging water.

Patches skidded to a stop beside them. Tia didn't waste any time, and jumped to the ground. Kara felt Lily settle under her, blowing and snorting from exertion. She took her feet out of the stirrups and slid to the ground beside Tia, holding tight to her horse's bridle. Patches blew and pawed the earth.

Kara realized her legs were shaking. She led Lily to a tree and tied her, yanking on the knot to be sure it was secure, then she plopped down on a large, flat rock. Tia sat next to her, tears running in rivulets down her cheeks.

Kara slipped an arm around her friend's shoulders. When she could breathe again, she followed Tia's anxious gaze back down the trail. “What was that all about?”

Tia shuddered. “I don't know. Something was in there.” Her face tightened in fear. “What if it was a bear? Pops said
the Carlsons had one rooting through their garbage the other night.”

Kara nodded and frowned. “I guess. For all we know it could have been a raccoon.”

Tia straightened her shoulders. “Patches wouldn't spook over a raccoon. Besides, you know as well as I do that raccoons are nocturnal. They only come out at night.”

Kara pulled her arm away. “A horse will spook over anything under the right conditions, Tia Sanchez, and for all we know it could have been a rabid raccoon. Then it wouldn't care if it was day or night. Anyway, it was Patches who started the whole thing. Lily didn't panic until he did.”

“Oh, great, now it's all my fault!”

Kara's stomach did a flip, and she felt like she would lose her breakfast any minute. “Tia, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant.”

Tia sniffed, then started laughing. “Listen to us. A rabid raccoon? We sound like a couple of five-year-olds.”

Kara laughed with her until she had to wipe away her own tears. “Whew. That was close.”