Heartbreak Bronco (13 page)

B
efore breakfast, Sam talked with Brynna and Dad about riding in the claiming race.

Dad took a deep breath and glanced at Brynna. Sam followed his eyes in time to notice Brynna's arched eyebrows.

“How 'bout you go help the girls groom and saddle their horses right now,” Dad said, “and we'll let you know.”

She'd gone without a word, but now breakfast was over, the horses were ready for Amelia and Crystal to mount up for the first time, and still Sam hadn't heard a word about the claiming race.

Patience
, she told herself, and turned back to work.

“Amelia, I noticed you frowned every time you had to pick up your spoon for a bite of oatmeal,” Sam pointed out as they left the kitchen. “How's your hand?”

“It doesn't hurt,” Amelia insisted, flexing her fingers in demonstration. “I just don't like oatmeal.”

Sam smiled and glanced over her shoulder at Crystal.

“Slowpoke,” she said, and though Crystal stuck out her tongue, Sam knew it was really fear that slowed Crystal's steps.

Or maybe it was more than that, Sam thought as Amelia walked ahead. She hadn't heard Amelia speak a single word to Crystal since yesterday when she'd screamed at her to put the snake down.

Crystal's feelings had to be hurt, but what did she expect?

Sam shook her head. She hoped the girls worked it out, but her job was to get them in their saddles and into the round pen before Brynna finished her last cup of coffee.

“Who wants to go first?” Sam asked when the horses were tacked up.

“Me, me, me!” Amelia insisted.

“Okay, now I'm going to let you try it your own way, but make sure Jinx doesn't move off once you have your boot in the stirrup.”

“Okay,” Amelia said impatiently.

“You remember how he did that with me?” Sam
said, touching Amelia's left hand as she gathered her reins to mount. “Think a minute.”

“I remember,” Amelia insisted. “He won't do that with me. We're buddies.”

Sure enough, Jinx let Amelia mount without a fuss. Had he become more confident after days of kind handling, or was there really a bond between the two?

“I wouldn't do this except for my dad,” Crystal said, tightening her ponytail. “Everybody told me I was lucky I didn't kill myself when I jumped off the school roof into the swimming pool—”

Amelia's head whipped around to stare at Crystal. Apparently she hadn't heard about that misdeed. Still, Amelia didn't speak to the other girl.

“—but the pool was just sitting there,” Crystal went on. “It wasn't trying to kill me. I'm not so sure about him.”

Popcorn's ears pricked toward Jinx, wondering where they were going, but he waited quietly for Crystal to mount up and decide.

“Popcorn wouldn't think of killing you,” Sam said.

The screen door creaked open as Brynna came outside. She walked toward the round pen, smiling at Sam's last words.

As Sam watched, Brynna gave her a thumbs-up sign. That must mean she'd get to ride Jinx in the claiming race.

Oh my gosh
. It was only a few days away. How could she train a horse who was afraid to gallop to burst into a run practically from a standing start?

“If he decides he doesn't like me he will,” Crystal said.

“Will what?” Sam asked.

“Kill me!” Crystal snapped. “Haven't you been listening? Look at him. He has the coldest eyes.”

Sam didn't point out that Crystal's and Popcorn's eyes were a perfect match.

“He likes you,” she insisted.

As Amelia reined Popcorn toward the gate Brynna held open, the girl muttered something.

It sounded like,
That's because he doesn't know her.

Inch by inch, Crystal mounted the albino gelding.

“You look great up there,” Sam said, and it was true.

The albino's white coat sparkled from good grooming. Crystal's royal-blue tee-shirt brought out Popcorn's blue eyes as well as her own. And the horse seemed set on pleasing Crystal. Although her rein movements were clumsy and should have been confusing, he followed Jinx into the round pen and did as he was asked all morning.

Finally, they released the horses just before lunch.

“Why do you like riding so much?” Brynna asked Amelia as they walked back to the house.

“It's because,” Amelia looked down as if she was afraid of their response, “they have minds. It's not
like riding a bike where it just does what you make it do. If a horse goes along with what you're asking, it's because he wants to. That's what makes it fun.”

“That's what makes it dangerous,” Crystal grumbled.

At last, Amelia broke her silence toward Crystal.

“I don't know how you can think that,” Amelia said. “I mean, Sam was riding this close”—Amelia measured off a few inches of air between her thumb and forefinger—“to a wild stallion and she didn't get hurt.”

“Wait a minute!” Brynna said.

“Yeah, wait,” Sam said. “Don't even think of doing that, you guys, ever.”

“Don't worry 'bout me,” Crystal muttered, but Amelia crossed her arms, looking more rebellious than she had all week.

“I'm lucky because the Phantom is my friend,” Sam said, trying to explain. “But it's because I raised him from a foal. Not because wild horses like people.”

“You bonded with him like I did with Jinx,” Amelia insisted.

“Not exactly. Jinx hasn't been wild for a long time. The Phantom is a mustang first, the leader of his herd. Our friendship is way down the list of who he is.”

Brynna nodded, apparently pleased with Sam's explanation, but Amelia was still skeptical and Crystal was surprised.

“You don't sound that sad about it,” Crystal said.

Sam sighed. There was no point in talking about the number of times the stallion had bruised her heart by ignoring her, or acting like the wild thing he was.

“If he acted like a pet,” Sam said, “he couldn't protect his mares and foals. Whenever he's trusted humans, they've tried to take away his freedom.”

As Gram leaned from the door and told them to hurry and wash up or their fruit salads would be too warm to eat, Amelia grabbed Sam's sleeve.

“What I have to tell you can't wait anymore.”

“Oh, I forgot,” Sam said. “Sorry.”

“I used my parents' credit card to make a bid on Jinx.”

“What?” Sam's mind spun. She must be talking about the claiming race, but Amelia hadn't left the ranch except to go to the emergency room yesterday.

“On my cell phone, the day I found the flier about the race. It had all the rules and registration information and a direct number to that YRA organization. So I, uh, put a bid on Jinx. What am I going to do?”

“Right now,” Sam said, “you're going to be thankful I can't think hard and strangle you at the same time.”

 

After lunch, Brynna watched the girls take turns riding Popcorn in the round pen while Dad helped Sam work with Jinx.

“If I don't like the way things go, I reserve the
right to change my mind,” he told Sam, but after watching the horse make three quarter-mile sprints with Sam aboard, he shook his head.

“Don't see the problem. Whatever was wrong with him, you seem to have—” Dad stopped. “That sounds a mite too optimistic, doesn't it?”

Sam laughed. “No, I think he's a good horse.”

“Good and smart are two different things.”

“Dad!” Sam said. Even though she should be used to it by now, she hated it when Dad treated horses like animals.

“Whatever made him balk that way is still in his narrow cayuse head,” Dad said, rubbing the grulla's face with affection. “He can't know it's over with. Anything could stir it up all over again.”

“Shall we keep doing this until he balks?” Sam asked.

“No point in it,” Dad said. “When something triggers that fear, he'll stop. Until then, all you can do is be real nice to this fella, so maybe he'll forget.”

 

Sam returned to help Brynna instruct the girls, just as they took a lemonade break.

“So what do you think?” Amelia said under her breath as Brynna talked with Crystal about her promise to her father.

“You don't have a pasture for Jinx, do you?” Sam asked. “At your house in New Mexico?”

“Rub it in,” Amelia's tone was mean. “Just because
you have acres and acres of pasture and range.”

Sam waited until Amelia stopped, then said, “I didn't have a horse when I lived in San Francisco. I know it's frustrating.”

“I have a yard. It's not real big, but it's fenced,” Amelia said.

“Would Jinx be happy there?” Sam asked.

Amelia glared at Sam. Then she turned to Jinx and rubbed her hands over the gelding's smooth neck.

“Of course he wouldn't,” she admitted. “And now, while my parents are actually thinking I might turn back into an okay kid—I mean, they might even let me take riding lessons again—it's a dumb time to charge a thousand dollars on their credit card.”

“A thousand dollars!” Sam hissed, hoping Brynna wouldn't hear. “The minimum bid is just five hundred.”

“I wanted to make sure I had the highest bid,” Amelia admitted.

Sam's breath caught in her throat. If Amelia's bid stood, maybe Linc Slocum's offer wouldn't be the highest. Then he couldn't claim Jinx. But what Amelia had done was against the law.

Good luck. Bad luck. Did the seesawing never stop?

“You've got to do what you think is best,” Sam managed to say, but she didn't think her own words would come back to haunt her so soon.

 

Sam was alone in the house when the telephone rang.

Dad, Brynna, and Gram had taken the girls on a late night hike up to the top of the ridge to look at constellations.

Although Crystal complained that it was a lame and nerdy thing to do, Sam could tell she was excited about walking through the wilds by starlight.

“Snakes aren't out at this time of night, right?” Amelia asked with a slight tremble in her voice.

“Almost never,” Brynna said.

And that was when Crystal gave Amelia a hug, and when Sam decided to stay behind. She hoped the two girls would become friendly equals if she just stayed home.

“Hello?” Sam said into the phone.

“Hello, ma'am?” said an unfamiliar voice with a southern accent. “My name is Henry Fox and I'm calling to speak to a Samantha Forester.”

Even though the man had mispronounced her last name, his name was vaguely familiar and the call couldn't be for anyone else.

“I'm Samantha Forster,” she said.

“Oh.”

Sam listened hard. Long-distance static whirred on the telephone line, but the man stayed quiet.

“Mr. Fox?” she asked.

“See, the thing is, I called to see how H. B. was
doing. Silly, for an old hand like me to get attached, but I did. When I called the cafe, a waitress named Millie said the gal I wanted to talk with was Clara. And seems like Clara's not working tonight.”

“Who's H. B.?” Sam asked, but the man didn't seem to hear.

“Well, this Millie said I should talk with you, seein' as it's about the horse, but, begging your pardon, ma'am, you sound like a kid.”

“I'm fourteen,” Sam said, but she wasn't offended. Her mind suddenly brightened with memory.

Henry Fox was the cowboy who'd traded Jinx to Clara for a dollar and a piece of cake. He'd called to see how the horse was doing. Did that mean he wanted the grulla back?

“Are you talking about Jinx? The grulla gelding?”

“Yes ma'am, I am,” he said in a wondering tone. “But don't tell me you're the one's been riding him.”

“Sure I have,” Sam said proudly.

“I never thought she'd use him with kids.” The man's voice was so low, he might have been talking to himself. “Seemed like a shrewd old girl. Clara, that is. Jinx was just a joke name, but I never meant for H. B. to…” He cleared his throat. “Has anyone been hurt?”

For a second, Sam wondered if he'd heard about Amelia's snakebite. Then she realized he was still talking about Jinx.

“No,” Sam said slowly. “Are you worried because of the way he balks?”

“That's just it,” he said in a despairing tone. “After the balking comes the bucking and, well, shoot, there's no reason not to come clean with you, I guess. Here's the thing. H. B.—Heart Breaker, he was called—”

“Because of his brand,” Sam supplied.

“Yes, ma'am. H. B. was broke to be a bareback bronc—”

Sam gasped. She thought of the color, clamor, and crowds at rodeos. Jinx couldn't be a rodeo bronc.

“—didn't do good at it, 'cause he was always wanting to run,” the man continued.

“He loves to run,” Sam agreed.

“Makes me feel real downhearted when you say it that way, because he did used to love it. But see, a rodeo rider gets no points if he comes out of the chute and the bronc just runs with him. The bronc is supposed to buck. And, well, that's why I had to take H. B. before they put him down.

“They were just amateurs, the kids who bought him from Potter to use in rodeo. Seems like even though they whipped and spurred him, trying to push him through the gallop and straight into his buck, it didn't work.

“He gave up, though, in a way. Once you got on him, he just wouldn't move at all.”

“That's awful,” Sam said. “But I think he's doing fine, now.”

Sam gave the kitchen a quick glance and listened at the open window for the sound of feet or voices.
She didn't want anyone to have heard even her half of this conversation.

“And by fine, you mean…?”

“He walks, jogs, lopes, even gallops,” Sam said.

The cowboy's sigh was so gusty and loud, Sam could practically feel the phone shudder.