Desert Dancer (11 page)

“I heard that,” Aunt Sue said. Blaze wheeled to face her, wagging his tail. “And I do not need help from some uppity canine.”

Blaze made a throaty, come-and-play sound and Aunt Sue rumpled his ears. Without stopping to wash her hands, she motioned for the Border collie to follow.

“Remember,” she told him as he tagged along, “you can only watch.”

Sam made her way through the storm to the round corral and found Queen standing in exactly the same spot where she'd left her before. Sam swept the flashlight's beam over the mare. The light picked up a sheen of ice on Queen's mane. Even worse, her eyelashes glinted with a glassy coating.

Sam wasn't sure she was up to another decision, but she didn't have much choice. Part of her wanted to slip through the gate, grab the rope trailing from Queen's halter, and lead her into the barn pen to cuddle with Ace. The other part of her was certain she couldn't handle Queen alone.

She knew what she had to do, and she could do it.

The wind had died down to a whisper in the tops of the cottonwood trees, and the sleet felt more like rain. Now, before the storm rebounded, she'd grab a tarp, some metal stakes, and get busy.

Then, if Queen still wouldn't seek shelter, she might call Jake. Maybe.

Not that it would matter if she did call him, Sam thought, hustling toward the barn. He'd be out on the range with his dad. With seven sons, Luke Ely didn't need to hire ranch hands to help run the Three Ponies Ranch. He worked his boys as hard as if they were getting paid.

As she snagged a large blue tarp from the tack room, Sam realized it was sort of cool, that even
though she and Jake had had a disagreement, she knew she could still call on him for help.

Cool, but there was no way she was going to do it.

When Sam returned to the corral with her armload of stuff, Queen noticed. The sheet of blue plastic was already stiff with cold and it made a rattling sound as Sam threw it up over the top of the fence. She climbed up two fence rails, threaded clothesline through the brass grommets, then tied the tarp in place.

The sleet started down again, rapping on Sam's hat brim, but she worked quickly. Between the pounding sleet and the crackling plastic, she couldn't hear anything else. By the time she squatted to tie the last knot, she was muttering to herself and even that was hard to hear.

“Don't know why I didn't wear gloves. Stupid idiot fingers are going to freeze and crack right off if I don't get into the house really soon and…”

She heard something. It wasn't loud, just distracting.

At first she thought the sound was Queen's hooves. Then, she thought Dallas had returned without her noticing. It didn't matter which. As soon as she got this silly knot tied, she was going inside for a cup of tea. She wouldn't drink it, either. She planned to soak her fingers.

If she kept thinking of other things, this blasted tarp would flap her to death. She had to focus. At
last, Sam blocked out the rest of the world and concentrated on the thin rope.

“Got it.” She sighed, giving the last knot a tug.

That was when a voice one foot behind her boomed, “Nice work, Brat.”

S
am let out a squawk at the same time that her knees straightened. It happened so fast, Jake didn't have time to get out of the way. Their hat brims bumped hard enough that ice chips rained down. They each reeled back a step and almost slipped on the mud underfoot.

“Why were you sneaking up on me?”

“See if I ever compliment you again!”

Both stood there, hands on hips, until Sam said, “What are you doing here?”

“You're shorthanded. I came to check on things. Dad asked Quinn to do it, but I beat him to the truck keys.” Jake smirked, pleased he'd bested his next youngest brother.

“I'm doing just fine,” Sam shot back.

“That's what I said.”

“Okay,” Sam rubbed her hands together.

Jake wore the same kind of yellow slicker she
did, but his was open over a flannel shirt. The shirt must have come fresh from the laundry, because she smelled some kind of pine-scented soap.

This was the Jake she knew, not the nervous dressed-for-a-wedding jerk who'd pumped water on her head. But he still hadn't apologized and she didn't think it was likely he ever would.

Sam turned toward the corral, clicked the flashlight to “on” and played the beam over Queen again.

“What if she doesn't go under it?” Sam wondered.

“She'll go,” Jake said, but Sam noticed he kept his eyes fixed on the mare.

Sam glanced at the glowing numerals on her watch. For ten full minutes they stood watching.

Queen's muscles tensed, but she didn't look alert. Her ears drooped sideways and her eyes were nearly shut.

“She's light-bodied like an Arab,” Jake said. “Built for warm climates.”

“What should we do?”

“Give her time to quit bein' hardheaded, and—” Jake's shoulders jerked as if he'd heard a gunshot. “Aw, no.”

“What?” Sam only heard a tiny tapping sound.

“Her teeth are chattering.” Jake looked around the ranch yard as he closed the fasteners on his slicker.

Sam didn't know what Jake had in mind, but he was looking around for help. That made her nervous.

“Let's wait for Dallas to get back,” she suggested.

Jake shook his head. “Can't. Look at her. She's forgotten all about us. She's concentratin' on what's happening inside herself. Stubborn animal could freeze.”

“Let's call your dad on his emergency radio, then,” Sam said.

Jake's father was chief of the volunteer fire department. He could always be reached by radio. Sam thought she had a great idea, but Jake's smile, white in the darkness, told her the suggestion was a mistake.

Jake's lazy tomcat smile was a challenge. “You don't think I can do it, do you?”

“Do what?” Sam kept her tone casual. Jake couldn't refuse a dare.

He yanked at the cuffs of his leather gloves, pulling them up to cover his wrists. He was probably looking at her, too, but his hat's shade made his dark eyes invisible.

“Go get me a bridle,” he said. “I'll get my rope from the truck, catch Tank, and ride him to rope your wild horse. Then, I'll move her into a barn pen.”

Tank was a bald-faced Quarter horse. He was usually ridden by Ross, and Dallas often wondered how the quietest cowboy on the spread had talked everyone into letting him ride the biggest horse. The giant gelding acted like an anchor on any animal Ross roped.

Sam headed for the barn, thinking. She didn't like the idea of Jake roping Queen. Sam grabbed Tank's bridle from a hook in the tack room and started back.

“Want her in with Ace or with Sweetheart?” Jake asked as he took the bridle and headed toward the ten-acre pasture.

“I don't want her moved,” Sam muttered, but she couldn't tell him why.

What if the lead mare saw freedom as soon as she emerged from the corral? What if she escaped from Jake?

Jake stopped. He stood loose-limbed and waiting for her answer to his question.

Sam knew she had to go along with him. If she confided her fear to Jake, he'd think she had no faith in his skills.

“I can't let her freeze,” Sam said, adjusting her sentence. She felt responsible to Callie, to the Phantom, and to Queen. “So put her in with Ace, I guess.”

It was easy to hear Jake's boots moving over the frozen footing in the ten-acre pasture, and Tank protesting his separation from the other horses. When Jake returned, he rode Tank, but the gelding wasn't happy about it.

Sam aimed the flashlight at them.

Catching Tank probably hadn't been that easy.

Jake was hatless. His long hair had worked loose from its leather tie and hung behind his shoulders. He rode Tank bareback. One hand rested on his thigh,
holding his coiled rope as he swayed with the gelding's choppy gait.

He could have been a movie hero, until he yelled at her.

“Cut it out,” Jake said, squinting. “Point that light somewhere else.”

“I don't think we should rope her,” Sam said, suddenly. “How about just snagging the lead that's on her halter.”

“
We
shouldn't rope her, huh? Care to slip in there and dodge her hooves and teeth? 'Cause I know I'm not gonna make a grab for that lead rope.”

Jake's words conjured up a memory of Sam's fall. She almost felt the tremble of earth under pounding hooves. She fought a wave of dizziness and wondered when she'd quit being such a coward.

“Didn't figure you would,” Jake said before she answered. “So I guess you'd better get that gate open and keep it that way 'til I get her back through.”

Queen's breathing turned noisy as soon as Sam swung the gate wide enough for Tank to walk through.

Sam watched through the fence rails. Her fingernails sunk into the wet wood, ready to slam the gate if Queen bolted before Jake roped her.

The mare stood still, nostrils flaring and closing, uttering a soft, agitated nicker. She might have been talking to herself.

“Hey there, lady horse,” Jake crooned to the dun
as she walked away from Tank. “Feels better to move around, don't it?”

Jake clucked to the mare. She glanced back over her shoulder, sizing up the intruders, and she kept moving around the pen.

“Wait,” Jake's voice rose in surprise. “This is the Phantom's lead mare.”

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“You mighta mentioned that.”

Only for a second did Sam wonder why he cared. Then she thought of how Queen had bossed and bullied the herd. Could she give Tank orders, too?

Queen's head flew up. Her muscles bunched as she sighted the open gate.

“Go on. Get on through,” Jake urged her.

Sam got a good grip on the gate. She smelled sudden sweat on the dun, and felt her excitement. The mare was halfway through the gate when Jake's rope sang out and settled over her head. She hit the end of the rope, then hopped and squealed.

Sam used the gate as a shield. Her pulse beat in her neck. She thought of riding Blackie through that gate before he was ready. But this was different. The angry mare was no more than two feet away, but the wooden gate stood between them.

Sam knew Jake's plan was to follow the mare through, letting her lead him like a dog on a leash. With luck, they'd both be clear of the gate when Queen discovered she was still captive.

But their luck didn't hold. The dun figured things out fast. She planted her feet, furious that the loop tightened as she fought it.

With a quick change of strategy, Jake ordered Tank to squeeze past the dun.

Sam blinked back the ice blurring her vision. Was Jake planning to tow Queen toward the barn?

“C'mon, baby. C'mon,” Jake coaxed, but the mare refused to be persuaded.

Eyes rolling white, the mare's neck moved with the tugging rope, but her knees locked. Her hooves stayed planted until the drag on her neck grew too strong to resist.

Instead of bolting after Tank, the mare reared onto her hind legs.

Sam gasped. She tried to believe the fence rails crossing her vision kept her safe.

The mare stayed in a rear. She used every ounce of strength to pull Tank toward her, but the big gelding didn't budge.

Jake did. First, she jerked him forward. Just as quickly, he hauled back on the rope, coaxing. The sound of his voice only made Queen fight harder. At the end of this long day, Queen had had enough.

Then Sam realized that with no saddle horn to dally around, Jake had dropped his reins. He held Tank with his knees, and used both hands to hang on to his rope while Queen fought.

Finally, she bowed her neck at the crest and
flexed, trying to break the grip of whatever held her. She didn't unseat Jake, but the extra exertion finally took a toll on her cracked hoof.

Queen groaned. Her off hoof faltered. For a heartbeat, a single hoof held her entire weight. Queen was about to fall backward.

Sam knew she wasn't safe. She'd be crushed between the gate and the ground by the thrashing mustang.

“Jake!” she screamed.

Queen didn't fall. Her forelegs came down, as if she'd quit resisting. The rope on her neck hung slack. Had Jake released her?

Queen tottered forward, gathered her feet beneath her, and swung away from the pen.

For a heartbeat, the mare stood statue-still. She'd never really seen the ranch yard. Bewildered by her surroundings, she moved toward the ten-acre pasture and the other horses. As soon as she spotted the fence, she veered left, toward the bridge.

Unsure and afraid, her hooves tapped in an anxious beat across the wooden planks, and then she was gone. Sam couldn't see or hear her, but she knew Queen was headed for the open range, with two ropes streaming behind her.

“What happened?” Sam yelled, but Jake didn't hear her. He galloped Tank toward the barn.

Sam ran after him.

“Jake.” Sam puffed, trying to get enough breath
to make him hear. “How did she get away from you?”

Boots stomped and leather slapped. Tank snorted in surprise as the cinch yanked tight around him.

In seconds, Tank was saddled and Jake was swinging aboard.

“Tell me what happened!” Sam insisted.

She knew darn well he could hear her now, but Jake didn't speak. Tank was lined out in a run before he reached the bridge.

Go after them!
Sam knew she should. Two riders make quick work of finding a lame horse trailing two ropes. But the mud around her boots was a slick slurry. Ace could fall. And maybe, just maybe, Queen would make it back to the herd.

They were a coward's excuses.

Sam gave up listening. She'd go after them, now.

“No way, no way, no
way!”
Aunt Sue was shrieking, storming across the dark, muddy yard toward Sam. She pointed her finger like a weapon. “You are not leaving!”

Aunt Sue made it easy for Sam to stay behind.

 

“Now, spill it,” Aunt Sue demanded, toweling her wet blond hair when they got back inside.

Sam didn't want to explain. Too much had happened in just a few minutes.

“Sit,” Aunt Sue ordered, pointing to the couch. “Not you,” she whispered to Blaze, who'd obeyed instantly. “Her.”

Sam sat, and ended up telling Aunt Sue everything.

When she finished, she was exhausted. She wanted to go to bed and pull the covers over her head, but she had to wait up. Jake would be back, with or without Queen.

The television babbled to itself as Sam and Aunt Sue sat side by side on the couch.

“So, you think Jake released the horse to keep her from falling on you?” Aunt Sue said. She sounded calm, but her hands were in fists. She'd bet Aunt Sue regretted her decision to let Callie keep Queen at River Bend.

“Yes,” Sam said. “He's been way too careful of me since the accident.”

Aunt Sue started to speak, stopped, then tried again. Finally she shook her head.

“I am trying, very hard, not to say something about what that knock on the head did to your judgment,” Aunt Sue said. “Releasing a horse to keep it from crushing someone is not being
overly
protective.”

Sam couldn't argue. Besides, she was doing her best to keep a few things about Jake to herself. She didn't tell Aunt Sue that
if
Jake had been riding with a saddle, this might not have happened. He'd acted like the worst kind of reckless, macho guy, instead of an experienced cowboy.

“I just hope he's okay.” Sam's words gusted out on a sigh. “He broke his leg once when a horse went out
from under him in the rain.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Aunt Sue leaned her elbow on the couch arm and supported her temple with her index finger.

“Your father—” Aunt Sue shook her head. “Never mind,” she said, and Sam sure didn't beg her to finish.

 

Blaze was first to hear hooves on the bridge. By his second bark, Sam had grabbed her slicker. By his third, she'd dashed from the house.

She needn't have hurried. The two horses moved through the dark in slow motion.

Queen was in pain. She could barely walk. She touched her off rear hoof to the ground briefly and lightly. Her head hung to the right, low in spite of the rope around her neck, trying to keep her balance. As she crossed the yard, her head drooped even lower and her limp grew worse, until she almost moved on three legs.

Sam's throat burned. She swallowed hard to keep from crying. It was an accident. No one was to blame. Not Callie for taking pity on a beautiful, lamed mare. Not Jake or herself for trying to keep the defiant mare from freezing. But she wanted to blame someone, even though she knew that Queen would probably be dead by now, if the BLM wrangler hadn't found her.

Ace neighed with excitement as Jake led the mare
to the barn. Sam could hear Ace turning from side to side along the rails of his pen.

Even when he dismounted, Sam didn't try to make Jake talk. Inside the barn, the lights came on and Sam saw his jaw was set hard. His eyes were as cold and unresponsive as Queen's.