Heartbreak Bronco (11 page)

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Authors: Terri Farley

BOOK: Heartbreak Bronco
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“If you run across any, just put them into the sack,” Brynna said.

“What for?” Crystal asked. “Are you paying us for every one we find? A dollar each, maybe?”

Brynna smiled at Crystal as if she were a silly little girl. “Your reward will be that warm glow you feel from doing a good deed.”

Crystal moaned and rolled her eyes, but Sam was almost sure Crystal was hiding a smile at Brynna's sarcasm.

Then Brynna turned to Amelia.

“Grace said you called home this morning.”

Sam watched Amelia. Why hadn't Amelia mentioned the call when they'd been talking about her parents?

Amelia looked uncomfortable, but she nodded. “You were getting ready to go look for Crystal, and my cell doesn't work out here. Grace said it would be okay.”

“I think it's fine.” Brynna sounded pleased as she handed Amelia the feed sack. “Crystal, you can call home, too, if you want.”

“No way. For my dad, no news is good news.”

“Oh, now—” Brynna began.

“Look,” Crystal said, “he doesn't talk to me since my mom died. We don't have little conversations where we work things out.” Crystal shot Sam a glare.
“The only time he pays attention is when he gets a call from school or my parole officer. Then he yells at me and sends me to some treatment program for wayward teens. He won't take me back 'til they say they can't keep me any longer.”

Sam held her breath, trying not to react to the news that Crystal had been in so much trouble, she even had a parole officer.

“Your choice,” Brynna said, simply. “Sam, once you get the girls started on this, I don't see why you can't spend a few minutes with Tempest.”

“Thanks,” Sam said.

Everyone who knew mustangs had told Sam that the frisky black filly needed to be handled daily. With Dark Sunshine for a mother and the Phantom for a sire, Tempest had the bloodlines to become smart and spirited. It would be best if she had a human to love, too.

Crystal took off the bulky leather gloves. She was wrapping a ponytail holder around her thick hair, and Sam noticed her hands were shaking.

“If what you say is true,” Sam began, “maybe your dad would enjoy getting a normal call. He might like it if you, you know, just called to say hi.”

Amelia took a stride closer to Crystal, backing her up as if she'd been criticized.

“Yeah, right!” Amelia flung the feed sack down for emphasis. “How can you give her advice? You've got this perfect cowboy-movie dad and cute, under
standing mom. And this healthy fresh-air ranch. You don't know what you're talking about.”

Sam took a deep breath and held it until her lungs burned. “Brynna's my stepmother. My real mom's dead. And if I don't know what I'm talking about, I'm not the only one.”

Sam crossed her arms. She'd probably made a mistake dragging her own life into this conversation, but she didn't see how it could make things worse.

Surprise flashed over both girls' faces, but Crystal recovered first.

“Your dad didn't send you away no matter how brave you were after your mom died, did he?”

Brave? Is that what Crystal thought she was being by jumping off a roof and stealing a car?

“And he doesn't keep sending you away no matter how many times you come home, does he?”

Sam shook her head. It would break her heart if he did.

“And he doesn't take away everything you care about, no matter how you try to please him, does he?” Amelia added.

Sam felt trapped. These girls needed an expert to answer their questions, and she wasn't it.

“My dad's not perfect either, but this week isn't about him and me. I can't change things for you,” Sam said. “But if you do well here, maybe stuff will get better.”

Amelia nodded. When Crystal shrugged, a sudden
flash of understanding hit Sam.

Crystal really was afraid of horses, but she was trying to prove her bravery to her dad. That's why she'd fought to be in the HARP program.

“Would your dad be proud if you learned to ride?” Sam asked her.

Crystal started to nod, then sucked in a breath.

“It doesn't matter,” Crystal snapped.

Sam sighed. Horses really were so much easier than humans. Still, she tried once more to make them excited.

“Well, what matters now is getting this wood stacked,” she said. “Because Brynna said that if it's done, after dinner tonight she's going to let you two mount up, two whole days early.”

O
nce the girls' grumbling had tapered off and they were working at a steady pace, Sam decided it was safe to go visit Tempest.

“Watch for snakes,” Sam cautioned as she walked toward the barn.

“And dragons and vampires and…”

Crystal added more mythical creatures, as if rattlesnakes weren't real, but Sam stopped listening.

Dark Sunshine and her filly had chosen the shade of their stall instead of the bright pasture.

“Good idea, girls,” she said as she entered the cool darkness. “It's much nicer in here.”

Sunny greeted Sam with a nicker, which made
her smile. This was why she preferred the company of horses.

She talked to the mare for a minute before slipping into the stall. Once inside, Sam bolted the door behind her.

Dark Sunshine watched with interest as Sam worked her way around the stall wall to the far corner.

Already the smells of oats, straw, and leather were relaxing Sam. She didn't mind being patient as she waited for Tempest's curiosity to get the better of her.

Since birth, the long-legged black filly had shown curiosity toward people. Sam's plan was to wait until the foal made a habit of coming to her for pats and scratches, then she'd slip on the tiny leather halter Dad had given her for a birthday gift.

“Hey Tempest,” Sam called. “Come here, baby.”

As soon as Sam held out her hand, Tempest took a few steps forward.

Tempest glanced back at her mother, seeking permission. When Dark Sunshine lipped the straw underfoot, Tempest took a few more steps.

Finally, the filly extended her neck as far as it would go. Three feet of air still lay between her ebony nose and Sam's fingertips.

Sam rippled her fingers. Tempest's ears tipped forward, but when she realized the flicking fingers made no sound, she ventured a few steps closer to
see how they'd taste. As her lips touched Sam's fingers, Tempest made slight sucking movements. It tickled and Sam had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.

With a tiny snort, Tempest raised her muzzle to Sam's face, and Sam decided that was a good time to give Tempest a delicate scratch behind the ears. The filly flinched, but she didn't move away.

Her dark eyes watched Sam carefully, but she wasn't worried enough to let something that felt so good end just yet.

“That's it,” Sam crooned. “What a good baby. We'll do this for a couple more days and then I'll try on your pretty halter. Dad made it just for you.”

Both horses' heads swung toward the barn door at the sound of loud voices.

“Leave it alone!”

“I'm just going to catch it.”

“Crystal, it could be poisonous!”

Sam dashed for the stall door. Each step lasted forever, as if she dragged her boots through knee-deep honey.

She wished she hadn't left the girls alone.

She prayed Crystal had better judgment than she'd shown so far.

Startled by Sam's sudden movement, Dark Sunshine bolted forward.

“Easy, girl!” Sam tried to soothe the mare, then
realized she'd shouted.

Oh, please let someone else be out there
. Brynna and Gram were in the house. Maybe they'd heard.

Sunny's eyes rolled, showing white rims, but Sam put a hand on her shoulder.

“You're fine,” she said.

Would it be safer to go in front of the buckskin or behind her? Sam's mind spun, calculating risks.

“Gotcha!” Crystal's voice sent the mare wheeling toward the barn pasture.

Swirling straw and dust blinded Sam as the mare and foal disappeared.

Sam made it through the stall door. With a quick swipe, she shot the bolt closed and headed for the woodpile.

She could hardly believe what she saw.

Crystal held the brown snake by the middle of its body. Both ends thrashed, constantly reforming in S shapes.

Crystal's face wore an expression of victory. And revulsion.

Sam approached slowly, afraid to shout for help. Could noise provoke the snake to strike?

It was already trying to attack Crystal. Fighting its captor the only ways it could, the snake made a sound that could have been hissing, or the whir of rattles on its tail.

Even in Crystal's hand, the desperate snake tried
to coil, but its writhing didn't bring it close enough to bite.

“Get me the sack,” Crystal croaked, and for the first time Sam glanced at Amelia.

Amelia stood just steps away. Her body angled back from her planted boots and her hands were thrust out as if warding off the snake. From one hand, a gunnysack dangled.

“No,” Amelia whispered, but Crystal didn't seem to hear.

“I can't wait to tell my dad I caught a snake. Just hold that sack open.”

As Crystal wobbled closer to Amelia, the snake renewed its struggle. The sight shook Amelia from her horrified trance.

“No!” Amelia shouted. Then she tossed the sack away. “Put it down, Crystal.”

“Just open your hand and drop the snake,” Sam said quietly.

Crystal didn't seem to hear. As she stared at the snake, so did Sam.

Was it a rattlesnake? Its brown and beige markings were right, but its swinging tail was a blur. Was the end of its tail round or pointed? That single detail could mean the difference between life and death.

“It'll crawl away, if you just drop it,” Sam insisted.

Still, Crystal didn't react. Was she imagining her father calling this “bravery”? Couldn't she see the dif
ference between courage and foolhardiness?

“You're scaring it, and it's going to bite you.” For the first time, Amelia sounded impatient, not scared.

“Shut up,” Crystal said.

Maybe Amelia had heard those words one time too many. Before Sam could stop her, the bespectacled girl darted forward and gave Crystal's wrist a violent swat.

The snake should have been grateful, Sam thought, but it fell at the same time that Amelia's hand hit Crystal's. For one awful minute, the snake's mouth hit and hung onto Amelia's hand.

“Brynna!” Sam yelled. “Gram! Help!”

Frantic barking greeted Sam's shouts. Hadn't Brynna warned that snakes were more dangerous to dogs than humans, because dogs put their tender noses right down in striking range?

“Keep Blaze back!” Sam screamed.

Without turning toward the house, Sam heard Gram gasp, “Oh lands, it must be a snake.”

It seemed to take forever for Amelia to shake the reptile loose from her right hand, but finally she did.

As the snake plopped on the dirt and went weaving away, Sam got a good look at it. Its tail was smooth and pointed, not bumpy with rattles.

She was almost certain it wasn't a rattlesnake. Almost.

“I didn't mean to!” Crystal looked around frantically. “I was going to keep it in the sack.”

Sam ignored her and moved closer to Amelia. The girl's face looked no paler than usual, but she gripped her right wrist, hard.

“His jaws were like—
grinding
,” Amelia pronounced the words with slow precision.

“You picked a fine time to stand up to Crystal,” Sam teased, and then she pressed her lips closed. She sounded like Jake. Or Dad.

Amelia laughed faintly, and swayed against her.

“Don't pass out on me,” Sam ordered.

“And let go of that wrist.” Brynna stood beside them now.

“It didn't look like a rattlesnake,” Sam told her at once.

Brynna nodded that she'd heard.

“Since we can't be sure, don't hold onto your wrist that way,” she repeated to Amelia. “Your grip acts as a tourniquet and that's the last thing we want.”

When Brynna moved to loosen Amelia's fingers, she wore a calm and competent expression, but Sam would bet Brynna's heart was beating just as madly as hers.

“What's a person have to do to get some sympathy around here?” Amelia asked in a barely audible—but amused—tone.

“You guys are sick!” Crystal accused. “I'm going to call 911.”

“Good idea,” Sam said.

Brynna helped Amelia sit down. She held the hand level. She and Gram squatted to examine the bite.

“No fang marks,” Brynna said, exhaling. “It barely broke the skin.”

It made Sam feel dizzy, just looking down on the three of them, but the bite didn't look serious. On the web of skin between Amelia's thumb and forefinger, Sam saw what looked like tiny pinpricks forming a half-moon shape.

“I think the snake had a long, pointed tail,” Sam said.

“He did,” Amelia said. She used her other hand to wipe beads of perspiration from her top lip. “But he coiled and hissed before Crystal grabbed him.”

The mere movement of her head shaking in disapproval made Amelia unsteady. Gram scooted closer to keep the girl from falling.

“You're probably just fine, but I'd feel better if we got you into Darton to the hospital, dear,” Gram said.

Amelia snatched her arm away from Brynna, then winced.

“Definitely,” Brynna agreed.

“But if I go to the hospital, they'll call my parents,” Amelia moaned.

“We'll need to call them anyway,” Brynna told her.

“And they'll make me come home—”

“Maybe not, Amelia,” Gram said.

“—and I won't be able to ride Jinx in the race.”

In the sudden quiet, Sam heard a siren approaching from the direction of Three Ponies Ranch. Jake's father, Luke Ely, was captain of the volunteer fire department, so it made sense he'd be first to respond.

Poor Dad. If he and the hands were close enough to home to hear it, he'd be worried all over again. First the sheriff's car and now the fire department. He'd never leave them home alone again.

Sam was feeling almost amused, when Amelia's words echoed in her mind.

I won't be able to ride Jinx in the race.

“The claiming race?” Sam asked. “What made you think
you
were going to ride Jinx?”

“Samantha,” Gram tsked her tongue.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude, but—”

“Clara said I could,” Amelia answered.

“What?” Sam yelped.

“When I called her yesterday,” Amelia said, weakly.

Gram, Sam, and Brynna exchanged quick looks.

“So you weren't calling your parents yesterday,” Brynna said.

“No,” Amelia said. She swallowed hard. “Can I
have some water? I'm really thirsty.”

“Shock,” Gram said. “Poisonous snakebite or not, she's acting shocky.” Gram bent to look into Amelia's eyes. “We'd better get her examined by a doctor.”

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