Mustang Moon (11 page)

“Part of this is selfish,” Brynna admitted. “I need to go to Washington for some meetings. I'd like everything
not
to fall apart while I'm gone.” She tilted her head to one side, as if she were talking to a small child or a smart dog. And she waited.

“Yeah,” Dad said.

“Someone from Las Vegas will fill in for me while I'm gone.” Brynna let that sink in for a minute. “I don't want my replacement to hand this wrangler's position over to some dude who doesn't know how to ride, or worse, some yahoo who treats horses like machines!”

Brynna was so wound up, she missed it, but Sam saw Dad nearly laugh out loud. That was why he was nodding, all serious, as he looked down at the boot he was scuffing in the dirt. Yep, Dad thought
yahoo
was pretty funny.

“You know, Brynna—” Dad began.

Whoa. When had Dad started calling Miss Olson, Brynna?

“—I appreciate the offer, but you're not going to change my mind.”

“Because it's a government job.”

“Because it's working for somebody else.”

Sam couldn't figure Dad out. Had he forgotten about the hailstorm, about the drought-thin cattle that sold for next to nothing, about the school clothes and horse vaccinations and windmill parts he couldn't afford?

Out of nowhere, a hand clamped over Sam's mouth. A strong arm jerked her backward. She slammed down on the seat of her jeans in the dust. And then she was looking up into Jake's mischievous brown eyes.

She tried to shake her lips loose from his hand as he whispered, “Getting yourself quite an earful, Brat?”

“W
HAT ARE YOU
kids doing?” Dad's voice boomed like an explosion, when their scuffling drew his attention.

“You are so dead,” Sam said. Since she barely breathed the words, Sam wasn't certain Jake heard, but she'd bet her eyes were shooting fire. Even Jake wasn't too dense to understand
that
.

Together, they stood. Sam waved, but Dad didn't look amused. By the time they walked within range, Brynna Olson saved them from making excuses. Brynna knew they'd been eavesdropping. She showed it by blushing to the roots of her red hair, but she refused to let her humiliation last.

“You two know about Slocum's Appaloosa, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “I've seen rails down on his fences. She could've been restless in her new corral and walked off.”

“It's possible,” Brynna said.

“I know Slocum thinks the Phantom stole her,” Sam said, “but it wasn't him.”

“Just how do you know what Linc Slocum's thinking?” Dad said the words slowly, warning Sam he wasn't happy.

“He, uh, talked to me at the bus stop yesterday.”

“So I heard.” Dad's voice dropped even lower. “I don't like being the last to know an adult threatened my daughter.”

“He didn't. Not really. He never said he'd hurt me,” Sam assured her father. “He just loomed over me and Jen. He had the crazy idea I could whistle and the Phantom would come running.”

Although no one turned to look, Sam was pretty sure Jake, Brynna, and Dad were listening to the river rushing nearby, remembering she'd met the Phantom there, more than once.

“I wanted to tell you and Gram.” Sam defended herself. “But things were complicated yesterday—with the haying and storm and ten people for dinner.”

“Doesn't matter,” Dad said. “If he—if
anyone—
does something like that again, I want to know about it. No matter what.”

“All right,” Sam said.

There was a moment's silence before Brynna spoke.

“Of course, Slocum wants the Bureau to catch the horse. He called yesterday, after his chat with Sheriff
Ballard.” Brynna hid her smile. “He demanded I catch this renegade stallion. In all probability it
is
a mustang, and I'm trying to hire a wrangler to trap the stud.” Brynna brushed a wisp of red hair back toward her French braid. “But I'm not having much luck.”

The Phantom probably wasn't to blame, but if it did turn out to be him, Sam couldn't hope for a better captor than Dad. If Dad trapped the Phantom, he'd treat him with respect, not violence.

Sam glanced Dad's way. As if he could read her mind, he crossed his arms. Tight.

Brynna Olson probably had a better chance of changing Dad's mind than Sam did. The best thing she could do was vanish and hope they worked it out.

“Dad, is it okay if I go to Alkali with Jake to pick up some chick-scratch?” Sam noticed, from the corner of her eye, that Jake looked completely confused, so she rushed on. “Gram forgot to get it when we were in Darton buying school clothes and…”

“Go ahead.” Dad extracted several dollar bills from his wallet. Sam had started picturing cheeseburgers at Clara's coffee shop when he said, “Gas money. That Buick drinks like a fish.”

“Thanks,” Sam said.

She was leading a baffled Jake away when she heard Brynna say something softly. As always, conversation that sounded like a secret caught Sam's attention.

“That's assuming it was a horse that stole his new Appaloosa.”

“Wasn't it?” Dad asked.

“Slocum made a big show of buying that mare and having her delivered in a horse van that cost a thousand dollars a day. He pointed out that Sam had talked with the driver about the Appaloosa's registration and pedigree.”

“Don't tell me he thinks Sam had anything to do—?”

Even though it was a bad idea to interrupt her father, Sam couldn't stop.

“
What?
” Sam whipped around and marched back toward the two adults.

“Samantha, eavesdropping is a nasty habit,” Dad cautioned. “You rarely hear anything good about yourself.”

“But wait—now I'm a
horse thief
?”

“Sam.” Brynna used a soothing tone. “It was mentioned in anger. I don't think Mr. Slocum is going anywhere with the idea.”

“He'd better not!” Sam's pulse pounded in her temples. “I'll—I'll—”

To save her from figuring out what she'd do to Linc Slocum, Jake snagged Sam's elbow and tugged her toward Gram's boat of a Buick.

“Sit in the car and polish your six-shooter, Calamity Jane. I'll go get the car keys from your grandma.”

 

It turned out Sam wasn't the only one Linc Slocum had threatened. The Phantom had a price on his head.

In Alkali, Jake and Sam split up to do errands, but they discovered Slocum's campaign against the stallion almost at the same time.

Jake saw the first wanted poster as he paid for a bag of chicken food at Phil's Fill-Up. After reading the poster, Jake hurried from the store, slung the burlap bag into the Buick's trunk, then rushed to tell Sam.

He found her right where she was supposed to be, in Clara's coffee shop buying sodas and french fries to go.

A bell jingled as he entered the diner, but Sam didn't notice. She stood reading another wanted poster taped next to the cash register.

A full-color picture of Apache Hotspot topped the poster. Sam finished staring at it to glance at Jake and then began to read the print aloud.

“‘Five thousand dollar reward for information leading to safe recovery of Apache Hotspot, three-year-old running Appaloosa mare, white with liver chestnut markings.'” Sam grabbed Jake by the shoulders and tried to give him a shake.

“I know,” he said, glancing at Clara, who stood at the open cash register, ready to take payment for the food. “I saw—”

Sam released her grip and tapped the bottom half of the poster, illustrated with a charcoal sketch of a rearing wild horse that looked just like the Phantom.

“But wait,” she said. “He can advertise for his own horse. What he
can't
do, is this.” Sam read, “‘Five thousand dollar additional reward for capture of stallion implicated in theft of aforementioned mare.'”

“Honey, you gonna give me that money or stand there clutchin' it all day?” Clara tugged the dollar bills peeking from the fist Sam had crumpled them in as she read the poster.

“Oh, yeah.” Sam surrendered the money. “Sorry.”

Jake carried the fries and sodas toward the door.

Sam followed, her mind spinning with questions.

Wasn't it illegal for Slocum to distribute or put up that poster? What would Slocum do with the Phantom once he had him? Turn him over to BLM for relocation?

Sam stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, remembering what Slocum had said. BLM wouldn't relocate a known troublemaker. BLM would shoot him.

“Sit.” Jake nodded at a wooden bench in the sunshine.

“I'm not your dog,” Sam reminded him.

“True, but you're walking like a zombie. Dr. Jake's fat, salt, and sugar diet ought to fix you up.”

Sam ate.

She worried about Buddy.

She drained her soda.

She watched three cars cruise down Alkali's main street.

She saw a cat on a fence post clean her paws and whiskers.

After all that, she knew what they were going to do.

“I've got a plan,” Sam said, using a fry to pick up a few stray crystals of salt.

“I was afraid of that.”

Sam turned to see why Jake's voice sounded muffled. He leaned back on the bench, Stetson pulled down to cover his eyes.

She couldn't believe it. Nearly every rancher around here was broke. They'd all try to win that money from Slocum before BLM stopped him from handing it out. The cruel, old-fashioned mustanging tricks would be used in secret, if the price was right. How could Jake take a nap when the Phantom's life was at stake?

Sam snatched his Stetson.

“I'm awake.” Jake sat up, blinking. “I could hear you getting yourself all worked up, Samantha. So, what's your plan?”

“First, we'll call Brynna and tell her what Slocum's doing. This encourages people to do the same kind of harassment of wild horses that kept Slocum from being able to adopt a mustang, right?”

“You know she's left River Bend by now, and it's Saturday. The Willow Springs office won't be open.
Do you have her home phone number?”

Sam glared at Jake. “No, but I'll call her Monday. Anyway, here's part two. You and I will find that stallion.”

“Super.” Jake grabbed his hat off her lap. “I'm sure the idea hasn't crossed anybody else's mind.”

“Jake, why are you giving me a hard time?”

“I'm not, Sam. Just trying to offer a little common sense. Besides, I'm surprised you want him caught. You're the one who convinced Brynna to let him go.” Jake gave a disappointed shrug. “Guess it is a lot of money.”

“Do you think I'd sell him out for money?” Sam crumpled the cardboard french fry container.

Insulted and angry, she stormed down the sidewalk to a trash barrel. When Jake didn't come after her, she walked back.

“I wouldn't sell
you
out for money,” she told him. “And you deserve it.”

Jake considered her words as if she'd spoken in another language. “I don't know what that means,” Jake said.

“Never mind.” Sam sighed. “The point is, the stallion Slocum wants isn't the Phantom. It's Hammer.”

Once Jake pledged silence, Sam told him about the blue roan she'd seen running along the pasture fence at River Bend. She described Hammer's attempt to take the Phantom's mares, too.

“He's the one,” she said.

“You're probably right, but Slocum won't go for it. He's wanted the Phantom ever since he heard about him. This is just another way to get him.”

Sam placed her hands on her knees and frowned down at the sidewalk between her shoes. Slocum had convinced himself the Phantom had Hotspot, but she had to prove him wrong. Just next to her shoe, a red ant scuttled along the hot concrete, carrying a piece of straw ten times longer than his body. If he could do that, she could do this.

“Got it,” she said, smiling at Jake. “We catch them both. We track, then camp out as long as we have to, or use relays of horses to chase them. If Hotspot and Hammer are together, he's the thief, right? Slocum would have no choice but to believe us.” Sam rubbed her hands together. “Then, I'll give Dad the ten thousand dollars and he won't have to worry about money for a while, and he'll be so grateful, he won't even consider grounding me again.”

Sam sighed with pleasure. She held her face up to the sunlight and basked. She imagined plunking down the money for the beautiful bridle and helping Jake buckle it onto Witch's shining black head. Then she realized that even for Jake, he'd been quiet too long.

Sure enough, when she looked over, Jake was smirking.

“What?” Sam demanded.

“I just noticed this little problem you have,” he said.

“Oh, really?”

“Yep. For a girl in honors English, you have this weird little sentence structure defect.”

“Defect?”

“Sam”—Jake sounded sympathetic—“I'm not sure what else to call it. All along, while you're talking about stalking the stallion and catching the stallion and dragging the stallion and Hotspot back to Slocum, you're saying
we
. Then, when you reach the part about spending the reward money, all of a sudden, it's
you
.”

Jake planted his hat on his head before striding to Gram's Buick.

Sam sighed. Had she really hurt Jake's feelings, or was he teasing? Sometimes she just couldn't tell.

This time, it might be better to give in, because Jake was right. She had forgotten about splitting the reward money.

Sam jogged to catch up with him. “Jake, of course we'll share. I'm sorry I forgot.”

“Just thought I'd mention it,” he said. “'Cause I've got my eye on something a mite more stylish than this”—he patted the top of Gram's Buick—“and five thousand dollars would make a mighty nice down payment.”

She had Jake on her side, Sam thought as they drove toward home. Now, only two barriers stood between her and that $10,000: Dad and Gram.

Sam thought of the ant. Of course, she could
convince Gram and Dad that the money was worth the puny risk, but just in case she was wrong, she'd wait until tomorrow to ask.

It was a good thing she was sleeping in the barn, so she wouldn't be tempted to ask too soon.