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Where was Olaf?

He wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to win fifty dollars. There had to be a reason why he wasn’t there, and Erik feared the reason was Pete.

“Colin.” Erik nudged his friend. “Stay here with the girls. I’m going back to the wagon.”

“They’ll be fine,” said Colin. “I’ll come with you.”

Erik shrugged, then quickly told Elsa what they were doing. “Stay here till after Olaf’s race,” he said.

Elsa’s attention was on the horses struggling to finish the race backwards. “Yes, yes,” she said. “Look at them! Oh, no. Someone fell off.”

Erik and Colin ran back to the wagon, hoping they’d find Olaf saddling Tapper. When he wasn’t there, Erik grabbed the saddle and threw it onto Tapper’s back.

“I’ll see if he’s at the livery stable,” said Colin. “They might have been playing cards and didn’t realize how late it was.”

Erik paused in the middle of tightening the cinch. “I don’t think he’ll be there,” he said. “Pete is angry at him about something.”

“I’ll take a look anyway,” said Colin.

“If you want,” said Erik. “But don’t ask for Olaf by name. And be careful.”

“I’m not worried. I’ve been there many times.”

Erik untied Tapper. “Come on, boy,” he said. “You’ve got to race. If we can find Olaf, that is. I doubt they let horses run without a rider.”

A ladies’ race was in progress when Erik arrived at the track, but his relief was short-lived. As soon as the winner was announced, they called for the final race.

Erik led Tapper over to the starting line. The palomino, a black horse with white stockings, and another bay were already there. Other horses joined them as Erik scanned the crowd for Olaf.

“You can beat them all, can’t you, boy?” Erik whispered to Tapper.

“Hanson?” asked a man Erik didn’t know. “Tapper?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fourth position,” said the man.

“Now?” asked Erik.

“Better now than after the race.” The man moved on, consulting a book in his hand.

Erik led Tapper over to the fourth position.

“You riding that horse, boy?” asked the man on a big grey beside him.

“I don’t know,” said Erik. “I – I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” said another man. Erik saw the pistol in his hand and realized he was the starter. “We’re going to start right away. Mount up.”

Erik took one last look around. He couldn’t see any of his family. He was alone in a sea of people he didn’t know.

CHAPTER
TWENTY

Pete

Erik put one foot in the stirrup and pulled himself onto Tapper’s back. “Can you do it for me, Tapper?” he whispered. Tapper’s ear twitched and Erik took it for agreement.

Erik scanned the crowd again, still hoping to see Olaf. Maybe he went to get Tapper, found him gone and was looking for him. He’d be angry, and Erik didn’t blame him.

How had he got himself into this mess?

The ball games were halted for this last race, and people crowded both sides of the track. The bleachers were filled to capacity. Erik couldn’t see Olaf in the crowd, but if he was there, he couldn’t miss Erik at the starting line.

The starter pistol went off with a bang. The horses burst onto the track, Tapper taking off with the rest, not waiting for a signal from Erik.

Erik clutched the reins with one hand, Tapper’s mane with the other. He should have shortened the stirrups, he realized, almost panicking. He clung to Tapper’s sides with his knees, and bent over his neck.

There were horses in front of him, horses behind, horses on each side. There were only eight in the race, weren’t there? There seemed to be more.

But fear wouldn’t win the fifty dollars for Olaf. Erik tried to think. He’d watched Olaf in the first race. Tapper needed to be on the inside of the track, but there were horses in the way, running just as fast as Tapper.

Or maybe not quite as fast. The grey dropped behind, replaced by the palomino. Its rider was beside Erik, then the horse’s head was level with him. And the bay? He couldn’t see it anywhere. A black with white stockings was leading. Could he guide Tapper ahead of the palomino at his side?

The race was only a half mile, with no time to think.

Erik gave a sideways tug on the reins, then realized Tapper had already moved. He was on the inside now, going around the curve. They were coming up behind the black horse. Erik hung on tight, letting Tapper run the race his own way.

“Good boy,” he shouted, though he knew Tapper couldn’t hear him for the pounding hooves and yelling crowd.

The man on the black horse used his whip, and the space between the two horses grew. Erik stretched low over Tapper’s neck, feeling his stride lengthen. Tapper was closing the gap.

There was no gap!

Erik could have touched the black horse, they were so close, squeezed into a space Erik hadn’t known was there, on the inside of the track. Erik was even with the rider on the black. The horses were neck and neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, Erik saw the flag marking the finish line flash past. He glanced to his right where the black horse thundered beside him, his rider pulling on the reins. The crowd cheered louder than before, but Erik couldn’t tell who had won.

He straightened up, tugging on the reins. They were at the next curve before Erik could get Tapper slowed enough to turn around.

The black horse with the white socks pranced beside a circle of men in suits while one of them handed his rider a white envelope. They must have won, thought Erik. But the men still stood there, looking at Erik. Was there a prize for second place, too? Maybe there’d still be something to give Olaf. Would it matter that he wasn’t the right rider?

“Congratulations, young man.” Erik could barely hear the man over the cheers of the crowd. “That horse of yours surely can run.”

“And you are quite the jockey,” said a man beside him.

Erik listened in a daze as one of the men made a short speech, then handed him an envelope and a red ribbon. Erik clutched them in his hand, nodding speechlessly.

A red ribbon! Tapper had won! They’d won the race!

“I must take care of Tapper,” he finally got out.
“Manga takk.
Many thanks.”

The cheers of the crowd died away as Erik dismounted and led Tapper off the track.

“Erik!” exclaimed Elsa, appearing at his side with Sara. “You won, you won!” She took the ribbon from Erik’s unresisting hand.

“Tapper won. I didn’t know what to do.” He took the ribbon back and tucked it with the envelope in the pocket of his trousers. “Do you know where Olaf is?”

“I didn’t see him,” said Colin. “The door to the livery stable was closed, and barred on the inside.”

“Barred?” repeated Erik. “That doesn’t make sense.” He looked at the horse breathing heavily beside him. “I need to tend to Tapper. We have to think.”

They walked Tapper back to the wagon where Erik tied him again. Working together, they rubbed the horse down, then gave him some water. Afterwards, Erik turned to Elsa. “You should go to Aunt Kirsten’s. Ma will be there. I’m going to look for Olaf.”

Elsa set her face. “I’m coming, too.”

“Not this time,” said Erik. He and Colin strode off quickly, leaving Elsa and Sara behind. Looking back, he saw Elsa by the wagon, glaring after him. When he checked again, the girls were nowhere in sight. Erik breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want Elsa mixed up with Pete and his gang.

Despite the crowds watching the ball games, the streets were still full of people. Erik and Colin hurried as best they could, looking for familiar faces.

When they reached the livery stable, the wide front doors were closed, just as Colin had said. “We could go ’round back,” suggested Colin.

“What’s the matter,” demanded a voice behind them. “Why’s the door shut? It’s not cold out.”

Erik turned to see a tall, broad man in work-stained clothes.

“It’s closed,” said Colin helpfully.

“Not for long it isn’t,” said the man. “I want my horse right now.” He grabbed the handle of the wide door and gave it a hard pull. The door rattled but didn’t move.

“Hey, Pete!” the man yelled. Erik stepped back, out of the way. “What’s going on here? Open the door.”

They heard the sound of metal on metal, then the big door started to slide.

“Hi there, Rob.” Pete appeared briefly before stepping back to open the door further. “Hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

Erik quickly stepped inside the dim stable, Colin right behind him. He saw Pete look at them, his mouth hard.

“Jim,” he yelled. “Show these boys the way out, will you?”

Erik glanced around, seeing Jim coming toward him from the back of the stable. He headed toward him, vaguely
aware that Rob was already leading his horse outside.

“Have you seen Olaf?” Erik asked. Jim looked at him strangely, as if he didn’t understand. Erik knew his English wasn’t great, but not that bad. “Olaf,” he repeated. “Have you seen Olaf?”

Erik heard a muffled sound from the back of the stable. He pushed past Jim, rushing down the alley. Behind him, he heard Colin yell. Erik’s eyes darted from side to side, glancing into each stall. In the last one he saw Olaf against the back wall, bound and gagged.

“Olaf!” Erik grabbed at the gag, but the knots were too tight. He felt in his trousers for his pocket knife and cut the gag loose. “What’s going on? What happened?”

As he reached for Olaf’s wrists, he heard a scuffle and Colin stumbled into the stall, with Pete and Jim right behind. Pete lunged toward Erik, but Colin threw himself in front of Pete, tripping him.

Erik quickly sliced through the ropes on Olaf’s wrists and bent toward his ankles, but Pete saw what he was doing. Jumping to his feet, he swung at Erik’s arm, knocking the knife from his hand.

Colin reached for the knife, but Jim shoved him from behind, sending him sprawling across Olaf’s legs. Olaf leaned sideways and swept the knife up, just before Pete could kick it out of the way.

Erik dived toward Pete, trying to knock him down, but tripped over Colin. Swinging around, Pete grabbed Erik by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall of the stall. Erik slid to the floor, dazed, barely seeing Olaf slice through the ropes around his ankles.

A second later, Jim pushed Colin down beside Erik just as Olaf sprang to his feet. He stood, poised to move, one hand rubbing the red marks on his face, the other clutching Erik’s knife. Jim and Pete blocked the entrance to the stall.

Pete shot Erik a quick look. “Nice of you to drop by,” he said, breathing heavily. “Now you can persuade this stubborn cousin of yours to tell us where he keeps that horse.”

“Horse?” said Erik. “Why do you want his horse?”

“Because he’s mine.” Pete stood in the doorway of the stall, his eyes on Olaf. Erik looked at Jim, hoping to see a spark of friendship, but his face was unreadable.

“You gave Tapper to Olaf because he was almost dead. Olaf took care of him and nursed him.”

“I don’t mind giving away a dead horse,” said Pete. “But not a prizewinning racehorse, especially one wearing that brand.”

Brand? Prizewinning? But if Pete knew Tapper had won the prize, he’d know where Tapper was. Then Erik remembered the man who said he’d seen Tapper race in Montana.

Someone rattled the door. Pete must have closed it again after Rob left.

“Get rid of whoever’s there, will you, Jim?” said Pete. “Don’t let them in. Lead their horses outside.”

“Sure thing.” Jim turned and walked away. Erik looked at Pete standing alone in the doorway. If they were going to get out of there, it had to be now.

Olaf had the same thought. He lunged forward and threw himself at Pete, missing him when Pete stepped sideways. Erik jumped up to help Olaf, but before he had a chance, Pete threw a vicious fist into Olaf’s face and another into his stomach. Blood spurted from Olaf’s nose as he fell against the wall.

Erik met Colin’s eyes, then jerked his head at Pete. At the same moment they sprang forward. Pete’s right fist came up, but Erik grabbed his arm, hanging on with all his weight. Pete twisted toward Erik as Colin took hold of his other arm.

Pete roared in rage, shaking both his arms, almost lifting Erik off the ground. A second later, Erik felt Pete going down. Olaf had scrambled behind them and pulled Pete’s legs out from under him.

Erik dropped to the floor, too, still holding Pete’s arm. He pressed Pete’s face to the floor with his knee, then tugged his arm over to meet the one Colin was holding.

Pete yelled and struggled to escape but Olaf was already winding a rope around his wrists, the same rope that had held Olaf earlier. Erik and Colin both slid onto Pete’s back. Pete didn’t give up. He twisted and turned beneath them, swearing furiously.

Erik shot a quick glance over his shoulder. What was Jim doing? They needed to move quickly in case he was getting more of Pete’s men.

Olaf picked up another rope and, with blood still running from his nose, tied Pete’s ankles.