Galloping Gold (9 page)

“What about your knee?” Darby blurted.

“But I won't be using my own legs, silly.”

“Yeah, you will,” Darby said. “Have you ever seen one of these races?”

“No,” Ann said sullenly.

Don't be mad
, Darby thought, but she didn't say it. Instead she asked, “Do you want me to read the description from the CHP's website? Dr. Luke wrote it.”

“I don't have to hear it to know that it would be great for Sugarfoot. And I'd be okay. Riding is not like soccer,” Ann said stubbornly. Darby didn't answer, though she'd learned that when someone was upset, even staying quiet could get her in trouble. Ann exploded. “How could you think I'd worry more about a sore knee than Shug? Tell me, huh?”

Darby didn't know what to say. She swallowed. She took a breath. And before she decided how to explain, Ann said, “Okay. You can read it to me. But I'm not changing my mind.”

“‘A ride-and-tie race involves teams comprised of two people and one horse. The sport combines trail running, endurance riding, and race strategy. Horses and their
first
riders leave after a flag drops or a gun fires to start the race—'”

“Whoa. We all start at once?” Ann asked. “That'll be a rodeo.”

“‘—then gallop to someplace ahead and tie the horse. Then the first rider begins running.'”

“Where's the other team member all this time?” Ann asked, and Darby continued reading.

“‘The first
runner
reaches the horse, unties it, mounts, and then rides past the partner on foot, ties the horse, and takes off running.'”

“So we'd just kind of leapfrog each other,” Ann said. She stayed quiet for a few seconds and Darby heard the sound of a sketching pencil. “I'm drawing it out. It's not as complicated as it sounds. We can do this. How do we win?”

“Ann!”

“What?”

Darby shook her head before answering. “I don't mean to sound sappy, but winning totally isn't the point.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ann teased.

“No, listen. The point is to use up Sugarfoot's extra energy so he'll be too tired to charge people. Maybe he'll get out of the habit and forget he ever did it.”

“That could happen, couldn't it?” Ann said.

“Hey,” Darby said, lowering her voice, “have you asked your dad about George Mookini?”

“No, have you asked your grandfather?”

“No, because they were whispering and we were
eavesdropping,” Darby explained. “But we could both ask tomorrow morning. I'm sure he just meant he'd—”

“Use his horse-charmer mind tricks to get Gemma's husband to ask his wife to reconsider?” Ann asked, laughing.

“Something like that,” Darby said, and she might have sounded absentminded, because she heard a creaking hinge.

Wait. The front door was already open. So were the doors to the lanai. Still, just to play it safe, Darby didn't second Ann's remark.

“Jonah's going to decide by tomorrow if he'll let them have it on our ranch,” Darby said. “Keep your fingers crossed.”

A loud sound made Darby jump.

“And my toes,” Ann promised.

Jonah had cleared his throat. He'd come into the house sometime during her phone call and now he was in the living room.

She heard the television click on.

“Because today we got a black-edged notice in the mail,” Ann continued, “and it said Mr. Mel Border, equine specialist for the insurance company, will ‘drop by' for an inspection on July fifth.”

Who even knew that insurance companies had equine specialists, Darby thought. But that was exciting. If Mr. Mel Border knew horses, he couldn't help being impressed that Sugarfoot could chase humans
and other horses in a controlled manner.

“You haven't been talking,” Ann said. “Do you, uh, have company?”

“Yep, I do,” Darby answered.

“Okay, well, call me the minute you know anything. Promise?” Ann said.

“Promise.”

“S
o then my mom said, ‘Ed, he's a good-hearted horse and once we work through his problem, he'll be an asset to the ranch. I just know it.'”

Ann and Darby were sitting in the ‘Iolani Ranch office waiting for Dr. Luke's ride-and-tie class to start, and Ann was explaining how she'd persuaded her parents to let her enter the event.

“And then my dad said, ‘If you're set on keeping him, we can give it a try.'”

“That's cute,” Darby whispered.

“They didn't even mention my leg,” Ann whispered in amazement. “I just had to promise that if this transformed Sugarfoot, I'd continue working with him. Mom found out there are ride-and-tie races throughout
the islands, and if competing in them is what works, that's what we'll do. But if I let him relapse into his bad habits, he's gone.”

“But you wouldn't do that,” Darby said.

“Of course not,” Ann said, and she followed the direction of Darby's glance over her shoulder.

Darby pointed out two-thirds of a ride-and-tie team from Oahu. Jack and Jackie Olson were already camping on ‘Iolani land with a gray Arab named Joy Ride. They were quiet, serious, and certain they'd win the race.

Next, Darby saw Luke's energetic sisters, Sheila and Sissy Cray. She waved and the pair sat behind them.

“Is this your friend Ann?” Sheila asked, and the girls all introduced themselves.

“You'll have so much fun,” Sissy said, and then she and Ann began talking about Samba Splash and the ugly fact that one-third of all racehorses went to slaughter after they no longer had jobs entertaining humans.

Megan slipped into the seat beside Darby.

“I'm just listening,” she said. “I think this is kind of cool.”

“So Samba's really pretty lucky,” Sheila was saying to Ann as Darby turned back to their conversation.

“Pretty lucky
you
found him,” Ann corrected her.

“It wasn't us. It was Luke,” Sissy said. “He was supposed to put Samba down. The trainer thought he was
doing Samba a big favor, paying Luke sixty dollars for a shot to put him to sleep, and when he refused…” Sissy grimaced.

“Never mind about that part,” Sheila said. “When the trainer said that he wanted Samba gone in the morning one way or another—voilà! Luke gave him to us.”

“That is so cool,” Darby said, and as the young vet sidled through the crowd of people who'd shown up for the class, Darby thought the smiles that his sisters sent him looked a lot like hero worship.

 

Darby and Ann were furiously taking notes when a rustling at the doorway drew their attention. Pauli, Cade, and Tyson slipped into their row.

Cade blushed. Pauli smiled. Tyson's face stayed blank.

Darby figured it was an improvement over his usual sneer, but Ann leaned close and hissed, “It's eighty degrees outside and he's still wearing that stupid sweatshirt!”

Of all the things Darby disliked about Tyson, his sweatshirt was last on her list.

Darby glanced up to make sure they hadn't distracted Dr. Luke, then wrote in the margin of her notes,
What about his mom?

Nothing yet,
Ann wrote back. She drew a face with a wavy mouth, as if Gemma's silence could mean good news or bad.

So Tyson's mother hadn't retracted her threat to sue the Potters, Darby thought as she tried to turn her attention back to the young veterinarian. It would be just like Tyson to ambush them with some evil bit of news right after the class.

Why was he here, anyway? He didn't ride, did he? Tyson was friends with Pauli, but so what? Pauli + Cade + Jewel = a good team. Where could surly Tyson fit in?

Megan must have come to the same conclusion, because she shook her head as she considered the guys and whispered, “Someone's going to get punched if those three hang out together very long.”

Darby nodded in agreement, but then something came back to her that Kimo had said about Tyson months ago. He'd said Tyson and his rough friends got into plenty of trouble, but he'd mentioned Tyson had one thing going for him—he was the fastest cross-country runner the island had ever seen.

Still, Darby couldn't imagine Cade and Tyson as partners. Did Cade know Tyson had called her a haole crab? Had he heard that Tyson jumped tourists who wandered into secret surfing spots?

But Cade was smart and he knew all about bullies. He'd figure Tyson out before it was too late.

This time, refocusing on the class worked. Darby turned back in time to hear Dr. Luke explain that a ride-and-tie competitor didn't have to be a good rider, but must be able to handle an excited horse.

“The rider needs confidence,” the vet said. “He can't be afraid of the horse, because an out-of-control horse and a fearful rider are dangerous to themselves and every other living thing on the racecourse.”

“Ow!” Darby muffled her gasp, but elbows had jabbed both sides of her rib cage. Megan rolled her eyes toward Tyson.

Ann smiled at her and whispered, “One good thing is that if this doesn't work, we'll find out in a big hurry.”

 

After the class, Darby and Ann were more convinced than ever that the race was just the challenge Sugarfoot needed.

“His speed will count, but he can't do all that rowdy chasing,” Darby said.

“I think the hard part for Sugarfoot—”

“What?” Megan asked, shouting over the racket of power tools. “If I'm going to be your coach, I have to be able to hear what you're saying.”

“
Are
you going to be our coach?” Darby asked.

“Sure,” Megan said, and while Darby's fist shot up in celebration, Megan motioned for Ann to go on. As they moved farther away from the construction, Ann said “I think the hard part for Sugarfoot will be standing there, tied to a tree, while he waits for one of us, and all these other horses and riders go stampeding past.”

Sheila must have overheard Ann, because she put
in, “That was the hard part for Samba. He was born to run, and he couldn't figure out why we made him stand still while there was a race going on. But he got it, after a while.”

Walking as they talked, Sheila and Sissy met up with their brother at the same time that Megan, Darby, and Ann became part of the guys' group.

Cade and Pauli were talking about the race entry fee. “Two hundred dollars, bro.” Pauli gave a low whistle. “Outrageous good luck that Dr. Luke's got us covered.”

Tyson stood a step apart from the others. Megan considered him openly, then asked, “Can you ride?”

“He's learning,” Pauli said, sounding sort of protective.

But when Tyson answered, his tone was bored. “I guess, but I still can't believe they're not givin' no prize.”

Darby had thought the same thing, but the words sounded rude coming from Tyson, so she said, “It
is
a fund-raiser.”

When supercompetitive Ann chimed in to say “It's all about teamwork and determination,” her lecturing tone was aimed at Tyson.

“And speed,” Tyson scoffed. “Otherwise you wouldn't catch me doin' it.”

Tyson probably knew he wouldn't have been included if he hadn't been so fast, Darby thought.

Pauli gave Tyson a playful punch, then said, “It's about bragging rights, too. When Jewel whips everyone else, they'll be standing in line for one of her foals.”

“That's a good idea,” Megan said, but she was looking at Cade.

“We'll see,” Ann taunted the guys. “We've got a pretty fast horse, ourselves.”

“Pretty
pupule
, you mean,” Tyson sneered.

Tension crackled between Ann and Tyson.

Of course he knew,
Darby thought,
but did he have to bring it up?

“No joke,” Tyson went on, turning to Pauli. “Her crazy horse tried to kill my mom.”

“Oh, come on!” Ann snapped. “My horse didn't touch your mom. She just fell off a completely different horse because she was scared of mine.”

Megan grabbed Ann's sleeve and jerked her sideways.

“Back off, Crusher,” Megan said, but Ann wrested her arm from Megan's grip.

“No!
He
can back off!” Ann moved closer to Tyson.

“I've seen this show before”—Megan tried to make their anger into a joke—“and don't anybody say anything about a redhead's temper.”

No one thought it was funny.

Darby had felt this building pressure before, too, just as fights were starting at school. But she couldn't
let her best friend pick a fistfight with Tyson right here at ‘Iolani Ranch.

“Ann,” Darby said under her breath, “is your dad going to let you race, if—”

“Naw, don't call her off. Let the
malihini
take a swing,” he taunted.

All of a sudden the racket of sawing and pounding stopped and Darby saw the tall construction worker headed their way. For a fraction of a second she almost felt sorry for Tyson, because he didn't see his father coming after him.

“I know,” Darby blurted. “We'll have a practice race, like—in three days, yeah?”

“A grudge match,” Megan said, backing her up. “Then we'll see who's got a fast horse.”

“And an out-of-control rider,” Pauli said, smiling at Ann.

“Tyson.” Darby's voice was just above a whisper, but he heard and looked in the direction she did.

Tyson turned. He pretended to storm away from the conflict, but he wanted to face his father before George Mookini confronted him in front of his friends—and enemies.

Darby exhaled, and she must have closed her eyes for a second, because when she opened them, everyone was looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Why did you do that?” Ann demanded.

“Do what?” Darby blinked innocently, even though
she knew her act was unconvincing.

“You know what,” Pauli said. He studied her for a few seconds, then looked away.

Cade beamed at Darby, and she couldn't figure that out at all.

“No big deal,” Megan said. “I've seen her rescue a pig before.”

“Megan!” Darby gasped.

“The pig was cuter,” Megan added.

“Why? He's always picking on you. Why would you save—” Ann broke off when Pauli refocused on the girls.

“You're just way too nice for your own good, girlfriend,” Megan said, slinging her arm over Darby's shoulder.

“Uh-
huh
!” Ann hung her arm over Darby's other shoulder.

Bonded together that way, with Darby in the middle, they faced Pauli and Cade and made a date for a ride-and-tie showdown.