Red Feather Filly (13 page)

Read Red Feather Filly Online

Authors: Terri Farley

BOOK: Red Feather Filly
10.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A
racket started up on the road that ran past River Bend Ranch and paralleled the La Charla River.

Instead of fleeing, the filly's ears pricked up and she watched it come with such intensity that Sam looked, too.

Mac Ely's red Scout wagon was headed toward Three Ponies Ranch, dragging the horse trailer carrying Chip.

Sam was still deciding what to do when the Scout stopped. It was at least two miles away, but Sam knew what was about to happen.

She glanced back at the filly. Star hadn't come closer but, ears flicking, she kept watching the small figure that was Jake.

She loosed a high, wild neigh and trotted forward.

She knew him!

When Sam looked back at Jake, he'd crossed the river. Even though he wore jeans that had to be wet from crossing, he was running.

The filly advanced more cautiously, but the steps of her trot grew longer, and then she broke into a lope.

Sam tightened Ace's reins, leaving Jake alone to greet his filly.

He had no rope, no saddle, or bridle, but when Star reached him, she stopped. Head lowered, she nibbled his hair. When she raised her head again, nodding, Jake slid his hand along her side. Then, with a hop and a handful of mane, he jumped onto her bare back.

The filly circled nervously, and gave a few halfhearted bucks to punish him for their parting.

But when Jake leaned low on her neck, she forgave him. His black hair mixed with her wild mane and Star lunged into a gallop. They ran along the river, away from Sam, until they were out of sight.

 

On race day, Sam pulled on a sweatshirt and her softest old jeans to go downstairs for breakfast. Still yawning, she entered the kitchen and saw Dad sitting at the table drinking coffee. With Jake.

“Am I late?” she gasped. Every nerve crackled with something like electricity. If she'd overslept, after all of this…

“No,” Jake said, as he pushed back from the table.

Dad stood before Jake could, made an excuse about checking water troughs, and left them alone.

Sam had a bad feeling about what was coming next.

“I'm sorry about that stuff I said in Lost Canyon,” Jake said.

Sam's throat constricted. Her chest ached all over again, remembering how he'd accused her of letting the Phantom steal Star. She held onto the back of a chair, unable to respond.

“Last night,” Jake went on, “I did this meditation thing Dad told me about. You lay out four sticks, one for each direction. You know, east, west…”

“Yeah, I've heard of them,” Sam joked, hoping to erase Jake's serious expression.

He only shook his head. “Anyway, I sat in that square and thought for hours. I wanted to focus on the race, but I only realized what a jerk I'd been to you.”

“It's over,” she began, but his look of frustration stopped her from adding more.

“Here's what kinda came to me.” Jake laced his fingers together and stared at them, instead of looking at her. “Whatever it is in your head or heart that made you not betray the Phantom's hideout, it's the same thing that made you stand up for me.”

“When did I stand up for you?” Sam asked.

“You could have told Mac and your dad how I acted and what I said. You didn't. You let them think I was succeeding at this manhood thing.”

“You are, Jake,” Sam said, softly.

Apologies came hard to Jake, but his sudden, fearful look said he found her compliment even harder to accept.

Jake folded his arms and cleared his throat. “So that's all. Now, if you don't mind, I'd feel better about riding in this race if I could have my feather back.”

 

The starting line of the race had become a carnival. At least a hundred people had gathered to ride or watch. Girl Scouts had set up a cookie booth. The Darton High Art Club was painting children's faces and the Methodist Women's Society was making a pancake breakfast.

Wearing a red shirt, jeans, the new chaps Dad and Brynna had given her for an early birthday present, and her old brown Stetson, Sam enjoyed the activity as she and Jake led Ace and Star toward the other horses.

Jake wore his usual shirt and jeans, but Star Shower tossed her head, showing off the red hawk feather braided into her mane.

The race had drawn twenty teams.

“Forty horses. One team made the trip from Canada. Hard to believe, isn't it? On short notice, I think Mrs. Allen's doing pretty good, don't you?” Sam said. “I mean, people have only known about it for—”

“You're doing it again,” Jake said quietly.

“Doing what? Babbling because I'm nervous?” Sam asked.

“Sounds like it,” Jake said.

When Star startled at the flap of the plastic flags used to mark the course, Jake swung onto her back and rode her in a small circle.

“Maybe I'll mount up, too,” Sam told Ace.

All the horses had been checked by Dr. Scott and most were massed at the starting line. Now, she and Jake joined them.

On the way, they passed Dad and Brynna. They looked pretty serious, though they were still claiming half the reason they were riding was to keep an eye on Sam.

Katie Sterling and her father rode tall black horses. Sam had heard someone say that they were Standardbreds.

Star shied as an electronic screech was followed by Mrs. Allen's voice on a fuzzy loudspeaker.

“Last call, riders. All contestants should be lined up at the starting line. It's now or never, folks.”

Sam held her breath for a minute, but she couldn't keep quiet.

“Don't Ryan and Jen look great,” Sam whispered to Jake.

“You know,” he drawled, “I was just sayin' to myself, that Ryan is one—”

“Shut up, Jake.”

Roman and Sky slipped into place about three teams down. Sam leaned forward and waved at Jen. She waved back, but her hands were full with her mount and Sam could hear Ryan's accented voice as he gave Jen nonstop directions.

For once, Jen needed them.

Sky's dark brown body gleamed as if it had been oiled. He minced sideways, flattening his ears at
other horses. Once, he lashed his heels at Roman, but most of the other contestants stayed away.

“Roman's making mustangs look good,” Sam told Ace, but then something on the obstacle course ahead caught her eyes.

She studied it as Mrs. Allen's voice boomed over the microphone again. “The siren will take the place of a starter's pistol.”

“What's that?” she asked Jake, pointing.

The field ahead was scattered with all kinds of distractions designed to test horsemanship skills.

There was a sawhorse topped with flashing red lights, a truck with its backup sound turned on, and two troops of cub scouts. One group carried helium-filled balloons. The other played kazoos.

Even Jake's brothers, Quinn and Bryan, were there, pounding a beat on authentic Native American drums. Mac stood by them, looking proud, while Jake's parents and Gram watched from the sidelines.

Telephone poles had been laid on the ground to mark off lanes for the first quarter mile of the race.

“What's what?” Jake asked.

“That big truck. Please tell me it's not filled with Slocum's buffalo.”

“Doesn't matter if it is,” Jake said. “We're about to go.”

A Darton County sheriff turned on the siren in his police car for one loud whoop. Chills covered every inch of Sam's skin and the race began.

“Good boy, good boy,” Sam crooned to Ace.

His ears flicked forward, back, and to each side, but he passed the bobbing balloons without a snort and navigated the space between the logs without a single misstep. He hesitated at the bleating kazoos, but when Sam glanced around, she saw he was having far less trouble than most horses.

Ace made it through the obstacles in first place, and stood fidgeting as he waited for Star.

A pair of riders on matched chestnuts clearly hadn't prepared their horses for chaos. One horse was threatening to rear and his partner was already bucking.

Katie Sterling and her father dashed by, and then a couple that Sam didn't recognize galloped past on lean ponies in English gear.

Then Jake caught up.

“She did not like that heart-shaped balloon,” Jake muttered as the horses fell into a lope.

Sam looked back once more. One rider down. A number of horses were shying or refusing to pass obstacles that seemed especially terrifying.

“We don't have time to look back,” Jake shouted, and this time, Sam followed his order without protest.

Leaving Deerpath Ranch, they galloped across the range for La Charla.

Neither horse balked at the water crossing, although one of the ponies' riders stood knee-deep and drenched, remounting in midstream.

As soon as Sam and Jake were through the river, the trail turned south. Ace stretched out, loving this flat stretch that took them past River Bend Ranch.
Star caught his excitement and ran beside him.

Sam looked to her right. Jake rode Star bareback, with only a lightweight bridle. Though the filly's eyes were wide and her head whipped from side to side, enjoying the scenery, she ran almost in step with Ace.

The course had just turned east at the Gold Dust Ranch when Sam heard hooves thundering up from behind.

Jake had told her not to look back, not to lose her concentration on the trail ahead, but she couldn't help it.

Roman's flaring nostrils and level head were just feet away. The mustang looked free again. Ryan lay low on his neck, letting the gelding run.

Jen was half a length behind, but suddenly Sky's legs reached ahead of Roman's and he swept past Ace.

In wordless agreement, Sam and Jake tucked their horses in behind Jen and Ryan. When the other horses tired, they'd pass them.

The black Standardbreds kept the lead, but Jen and Ryan were close behind.

Sky should be tired, Sam thought. All the energy he put into misbehaving at the start would have to tell on him.

Far behind her, Sam heard a scream.
Don't look back
, she ordered herself, and it was a good thing she didn't. Just ahead, one of the blacks was falling behind. It was the one ridden by Katie Sterling's dad. As she reined in, staying with her dad and his horse, Jen and Ryan flew into first place.

“After them!” Jake shouted.

Star and Ace seemed to understand. They split, one passing to each side of Roman and Sky, and galloped into the lead, dashing across the white expanse of War Drum Flats.

Another scream and more commotion made Sam and Jake both look back.

What could be going on? Sam's eyes scanned the horses and riders, the familiar terrain, and suddenly she saw it.

A huge brown buffalo parted the running horses with his horned and curly head. He ran as fast as the horses!

Jake nodded right and Star veered off. Ace swung after her and they let the buffalo take the lead.

He didn't want it. Maybe he recognized Jen or Ryan or Sky, or maybe it was just coincidence that the buffalo swerved toward those from his new home.

Sky panicked. Avoiding the charge, he tried to rear, but Jen forced him down. Tail and legs stiff with fear, Sky swerved into Roman. The mustang stumbled, but didn't fall. Sky's eyes rolled white and his breathing was so loud, Sam heard it over the pounding of hooves. But Roman and Sky were shoulder to shoulder now. They looked safe and the buffalo was falling behind.

“Go for it!” Sam called to Jake, and Ace and Star burst ahead with renewed energy.

The finish line at Deerpath Ranch was just ahead. They could make it. They could win!

All at once, there was a bawling sound and a crash.

Sam looked back in time to see Sky fall.

“Jen!” Sam screamed, and she felt Ace hesitate beneath her.

Jake began talking to Star as she hopped, threatening to buck. He tightened his reins. The pinto shook her head wildly, eager to run on, but he didn't let her. Sam did the same thing, but Ace was ready to slow.

Jake and Sam turned their mounts in a wide circle, back toward Jen.

Jen was on the ground, trying to stand. She gripped one of her split reins and got to her feet just as Sky scrambled up.

The black Standardbreds flashed past but Sam was watching Jen.

Jen's palms were bloody and so was one of her cheeks. Through the ripped knees of her jeans, Sam saw more blood.

Sky neighed and backed to the end of his reins, shaking his head and then, Sam saw Ryan.

Roman was slinging his head from side to side, fighting the reins as Ryan ordered him to run straight. Didn't he see Jen in his path?

“Mount up!” Sam shouted.

If Roman didn't trample Jen, another horse could. She'd be safer in the saddle.

Jen used the back of her hand to bat one white-blond braid away from the corner of her mouth.

“I'm fine,” she shouted at Sam. “Go on, go on.”

Her shout pushed Sky over the edge. He began
bucking, and when Jen tripped, then used her hands to cover her head, he broke loose and ran after the leaders. But a riderless horse couldn't win.

Sam's mind spun. Only the black Standardbreds had passed. With Jen's horse lost and Ryan battling Roman, she and Jake could pass the Standardbreds. They already had once. They could win.

There were two riders coming up behind them. They'd have to hurry.

But she couldn't leave Jen out here, on foot. With bison on the loose, Jen was in danger.

“Here!” Sam said. She kicked her boot free of the stirrup and reached down for Jen.

Jen looked back and saw Ryan fighting Roman. Foam flew from the liver chestnut's gaping mouth and Sam saw Jen give up. She grabbed Sam's hand and jammed her foot in the stirrup.

Sam coughed against the dust, but just as Jen swung up behind her, she saw the two approaching riders more clearly. They were Dad and Brynna.

Dad's questioning expression turned into astonishment, then pride.

Sam waved him on. “Someone in the family might as well win!”

Other books

Annie Dunne by Sebastian Barry
The Mistress of Alderley by Robert Barnard
Triple Shot by Sandra Balzo
Darkness Descending by Quinn, Devyn
Mine Are Spectacular! by Janice Kaplan