Galloping Gold (8 page)

Darby looked at Ann.

“Hmm.” Her friend's expression turned thoughtful. If Darby hadn't known Ann well, she'd think her friend was doing nothing more than staring into her bedroom mirror as she bullied her springy red hair into a ponytail holder.

But Darby would bet Ann was going over all the names on the island, trying to solve the “George” puzzle.

“Do you know a George?” Darby asked Patrick.

“One,” he said.

“Who!?” both girls demanded.

“George Yoshida at school. He doesn't have a wife, though. At least I don't think he does. Although”—Patrick paused—“I guess you never really know.”

“He
doesn't
,” Ann insisted before Patrick's imagination shifted into high gear.

“But then, wait,” Patrick said suddenly. “Someone—uh, my dad hired a crew to replace our barbed-wire fence with wood. Remember, Darby, that was your suggestion. Or Ann's? One of you said Jonah scorned us for that awful fence. And though ‘Iolani hands built the section of fence on our shared border, we had some men finish the rest. In fact, my father recommended
the same men to Jonah to work on your house, Darby. I think—” Patrick began, but then he yawned. “I'm sleepy. I'm not used to this much activity.”

“We'll be leaving soon,” Darby promised, feeling protective of frail, freckled, and accident-prone Patrick.

“But you were talking about the guy your dad hired,” Ann said, to prod his memory.

“George!” Patrick's face brightened. “One of them
was
named George Moo—”

“George Mookini?” Ann yelped.

“You sound like a jungle bird.” Patrick laughed until Ann grabbed him by the shoulders. “Are you going to shake me?”

“Not if you finish your sentence,” Ann promised.

“George Mookini,” Patrick said. “He's a construction worker. A super-tall one, as I recall, but maybe I misheard. It's unlikely, but why would
your
father want
your
grandfather to have George Mookini ‘call off his wife'?”

Darby and Ann shared a look, then told Patrick what they knew.

T
he next day, Darby had a chance to see for herself that Jonah had been right: A horse with a job was a happy horse.

She and Megan escorted a dude ride.

With the adults on Makaha and Maggie and their eight-year-old son, Jason, on Judge, plus three experienced riders who'd trailered their own horses out to the ranch for a day of trail riding, it was a fairly large bunch.

Megan rode Tango, her rose roan mare, and Darby rode Navigator, the brown gelding that had picked her for his own on her first day at ‘Iolani Ranch.

Both horses understood their jobs. They kept the
group together, but spread out enough that the horses didn't annoy each other with nips or kicks. They stopped at gates and watched for obstacles, and Tango even used her ears to point out a wet-winged
pueo
, an owl that had been bathing in the dew.

“Do they do that?” Darby asked Megan as they watched the moon-faced bird cross silently above them.

“I guess,” Megan said. “I'm not a naturalist.”

Darby noticed the owl had caught the attention of the three experienced riders, who were all young, blond, and fit. The two girls rode bright bay horses and the guy rode a sleek black horse with a wide blaze. It had to be a Thoroughbred, Darby thought, just as the three humans had to be related.

She'd been tightening Maggie's cinch when they'd done introductions at the ranch, and she'd just given a wave. As soon as she had a minute, though, she'd try to talk with them.

But just then, eight-year-old Jason saw the thick rain forest ahead and convinced himself that bears were hiding there. Not just bears, but “grizzledy bears,” and he was afraid to ride alone.

Either of his parents would have carried him, but Megan and Darby weren't sure how Maggie and Makaha would react to an extra—jiggling—burden.

“Miss Darby will carry you on her horse,” Megan told Jason.

“Me?” Darby asked. “You're a more experienced rider!”

“Yeah, but Tango's never carried double.” Megan kept her voice pleasant for the benefit of their guests, and her wide eyes urged Darby to do the same.

“That's true,” Darby agreed, and gave in with a strained smile.

Together, the girls made a squeeze chute of their horses. They probably didn't need to, since Judge was such a calm, obedient horse, but they couldn't take a chance that he might bolt.

So, under the watchful eyes of the little boy's parents, Megan rode Tango up on Judge's left side while Darby maneuvered Navigator alongside Judge on the right. Then she held her arms out.

“Hey, Jason, buddy, want to come ride on my big horse?” Darby asked.

“Yeah!” he said, temporarily forgetting the bears.

Wow.
Jason was a lot heavier than Pigolo, and squirmier than a fifty-pound bag of grain. But Darby didn't drop him. She took the boy onto her saddle and settled him in front of her.

“Ta da!” She sang a fanfare for Jason and he mumbled something Darby couldn't understand. She looked at the child's mother and asked, “What did he say?”

“Jason, what did you say to the cowgirl?”

While Jason whispered to his mother, Darby sat up a little straighter. She loved being called a cowgirl.

“Jason said you're on a King Arthur horse,” the
mother recounted. “He has an educational DVD about the knights of the Round Table. Can I take a picture of you two together?”

“Absolutely,” Darby said.

And maybe it was just her imagination, but after that, it seemed to her that Navigator pranced all the way home.

 

“I got a tip!” Darby flashed the green bill from Jason's parents and pretended to tap-dance, even though she wasn't very graceful in her boots.

Navigator watched with rust-ringed eyes, and Megan stuck her tongue out. “I'll share,” Darby promised, and then she noticed that the experienced riders were still there.

All three had dismounted and held their horses' reins. And they were watching, too. Darby wondered if she'd ever stop embarrassing herself.

“Hi,” she said anyway, and the greeting drew Megan's attention, too.

“Hi
again
,” Megan said, and then moved to introduce them. “Darby, meet the Crays—Luke, Sheila, and—no, please don't tell me.” Megan closed her eyes, then blurted out, “Sissy!”

“It's nice to meet you,” Darby said.

The three didn't look as identical as they had out on the trail. Lanky and athletic-looking, Luke was the oldest, maybe thirty. He had white-blond hair and a ruddy, permanently sunburned face.

Darby guessed that Sheila and Sissy were in their twenties. Sheila had a big white smile. Super-short hair curled behind her ears. Sissy's honey-colored hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and she was the tallest of the three.

“We have a proposition for the owner,” Luke said. “And I wanted to introduce myself, too, since I haven't ever been out here before.”

“That's pretty amazing in his line of work,” Sheila pointed out. “He's a vet.”

“Oh, sure,” Megan said. “Dr. Cray! You work with Cricket sometimes at the rescue barn, don't you?”

“And weren't you taking care of a tame gecko over at, uh…” Darby pointed vaguely. “The Hapuna…?” Everyone laughed except Luke.

“That was me,” he said. “I've only been on the island for six months, and I don't know everyone and every
where
yet, either. But I've been drafted by the Community Housing Project to help with fund-raisers.”

“Isn't CHP like a government agency?” Megan asked. “Why would they need to have fund-raisers?”

“Even though the earthquakes did a lot of damage, the island wasn't given federal money for repairs, because it's so small,” the young vet explained.

“It wasn't?” Darby said, surprised. She thought of Gemma Mookini trapped under her desk at work. How bad must her office have been? Here on the ranch, the bunkhouse foundation had cracked. And down near
Crimson Vale, Cade's mom's taro patch had been covered by a mud slide.

“And the Community Housing Project is supposed to do…what?” Megan asked. “Like, have bake sales and flea markets?”

“Pretty much,” Luke said. “People on Moko Lio Hihiu still want to help one another, and so CHP talked to me about using the ride-and-tie event we planned when I first moved here as a fund-raiser for trails and barn repairs.”

“Oh, wow, ride-and-tie. I've always wanted to watch one of those,” Megan said.

“Great!” Luke rubbed his hands together. He continued, “If your boss says yes to my proposition, you'll definitely have a chance.”

Darby had no clue what “ride-and-tie” was, but if it involved horses, she wanted to be there.

“We've ridden in several ride-and-ties with Samba.”

When the black Thoroughbred turned attentively at his name, Sissy smooched at him and added, “He's really Samba Splash, a retired racehorse.”

Okay,
Darby thought, so a ride-and-tie was some kind of a horse race. Luke wasn't being at all pushy, but what was he telling them all this for? Did he want them to enter?

“This event is going to be great,” Luke said. “We're holding it on the Fourth of July. We'll have a free hot dog and soy dog picnic, and there'll be entertainment by
a local slack-key guitar group. Everything's arranged, except we don't have a place to hold it.”

So they wanted to use ‘Iolani Ranch. Darby didn't know if Jonah would go for strangers enjoying a guitar concert and soy dogs on his property, especially on the day of the family luau. But she thought it would add to the fun.

Luke sighed. “We planned the course to take horses and riders over Wild Horse Island's roughest terrain, but the earthquake and tsunami made some changes, so we're looking for a new home.”

“And you think ‘Iolani Ranch would be a good location.” Megan nodded slowly, and for a few seconds she looked so much like her mother, Darby couldn't believe it. She'd bet Megan was calculating publicity advantages compared to the wear-and-tear on the ranch.

“We'd bring in our own support team,” Luke promised. “There'd be no extra work and you'd get to enter the race for free. Plus, I'll give a workshop for new competitors. Right here, if you want.”

“How many horses and people would there be?” Megan asked.

“Fifteen horses max, so that means thirty people,” Luke said. “We had to limit the number of entries because Cricket and I are the only equine health officials on the island.”

Twice as many people as horses, Darby thought. Weird horse race. Did they ride double?

“Wait, Dr. Luke, I think this is something we should do,” Megan said, “but I'm just the ranch manager's daughter.”

A quick look passed among the siblings that said they thought their battle was already half won.

“
She's
the owner's granddaughter,” Megan said, pointing to Darby.

Darby held up her hand as if she wanted to be called on in class.

“And I'm the owner,” Jonah said, stepping out of the ranch office and extending his hand. “Aloha, Dr. Luke, I'm Jonah Kealoha.”

“It's good to finally meet you,” Luke said.

“You must take good care of your animals,” Sheila said, “if you've never had to call my brother!”

“We get by,” Jonah said.

Luke was clearly self-conscious, but he turned his discomfort into a joke. “These are my sisters Sheila and Sissy, and they have to say nice things about me because I'm putting them both through nursing school.”

“I knew there were drawbacks to being an only child,” Megan said.

“I've been eavesdropping,” Jonah admitted. “So, what would you need from us?”

Dr. Luke blinked, surprised, but able to organize his thoughts in an instant.

“Riders will be bringing horses from Oahu and the mainland, and I know some will want to work their horses on the course beforehand. And they wouldn't
expect to do it for free. Some might even ask to camp here on ‘Iolani land if you agree….”

“Hmm,” Jonah said, but the sound was noncommittal.

“I'm the race mentor for novices, along with being the race vet. That means that I give a preview class and hand out my phone number so that people can call me with questions right up until race day. I'll also examine all the horses entering the race to make sure they're in good condition.”

“You're not competing?” Jonah asked.

“Not this time, but my sisters will. This is their mount.”

Jonah walked around the Thoroughbred, and he must have seen something Darby had missed, because he asked, “His legs—they're strong enough for this?”

“They are now,” Luke said. “All three of us have worked hard with him. One reason we moved to Hawaii was to work him in the surf.”

Luke's chin lifted a bit. Did he think one of them would mock making such a big decision for a horse?

“Sweet,” Megan said.

“It helped my filly's legs after an injury,” Darby put in.

But Jonah said, “Fourth of July is coming up soon.”

“
Really
soon,” Sheila and Sissy said together.

“This ranch is suited to the race. You're sure?” Jonah asked.

“It's our favorite site so far,” Luke said. “The terrain's varied. There are plenty of naturally occurring hitching posts.”

“Trees, you mean?” Jonah asked.

Luke nodded. “Both upright and fallen.”

“I'll let you know tomorrow, yeah?” Jonah said. “I've gotta talk to my bookkeeper and see what she says.”

“Sounds good,” Luke said.

 

The minute Dr. Luke, Sheila, and Sissy left, Megan turned to Darby. “If it weren't for Ann's old soccer injury, this would be perfect for her and Sugarfoot.”

“Perfect,” Jonah echoed. “The horse would have to train every day, up and down hills, through rivers, yeah? That will make charging less fun for him.”

“But Ann…” Megan reminded him.

“She wants to keep that horse,” Jonah said.

“We can ask,” Darby said.

“You know she'll say yes,” Megan told Darby. “But I was on the field with her the last time she wrecked her knee. You don't want to see your best friend in that kind of pain.”

 

Hoofbeats punctuated the evening calls of birds. Kit was working in the dark with Medusa, while Jonah
leaned against the fence rails offering rare words of advice. Inside, Darby settled on a kitchen chair to phone Ann.

Sun House was open to the night because it had been such a hot day.

The floorboards were silent overhead, but Darby heard the occasional swish of water. In the upstairs apartment, Aunty Cathy was probably in bed reading while Megan soaked in a deep bath.

Darby was still flinching from Megan's words. Of course she didn't want to see her best friend in pain, but she didn't want her heartbroken over the loss of her horse, either.

So Darby put off that phone call by calling her mom instead. This time her mother wasn't much help. Her cell phone rang in Tahiti, and eventually it went to voice mail.

“Hi, Mom,” Darby said. “I can't wait to see you. And, hey, you don't think Jonah is really serious about roasting Pigolo or Francie for the luau, do you? I don't think so, but I have this creepy feeling I'll wake up on Fourth of July morning and smell a barbecue going. But I don't think he'd do that. Anyway, aloha! I love you.”

Darby made a kissing sound into the phone, and even though she hadn't talked with her mother, she felt a little better about calling Ann.

As she dialed, Darby decided she'd just act like a reporter. She'd tell Ann the news about the ride-and-
tie race without offering an opinion.

“That is so cool!” Ann screeched. “Perfect, perfect, perfect! We have to do it! You and me and Sugarfoot will be a team, okay? “