Heartbreak Bronco (9 page)

Sam smiled. This was a first. Usually she felt nervous when faced with a sheet of numbers, but not this time.

By matching the freeze mark on Jinx's neck with this chart, she could learn his age and where he'd come from. This could be exciting.

“I don't get how we're supposed to do this,” Amelia said.

“What's a freeze mark?” Crystal asked.

“The Bureau of Land Management—the government agency that rounds up wild horses when it's necessary, then puts them up for adoption—shaves the left side of each wild horse's neck, swabs it with a
little alcohol, then presses on a pattern with liquid nitrogen.”

Both Amelia and Crystal recoiled, and though Sam knew the process wasn't supposed to be painful, it gave her the creeps, too.

“It's cold, but it doesn't hurt,” Brynna insisted, “and it leaves a permanent, unchangeable mark telling the horse's age and home state.”

“Who cares about that stuff?” Crystal asked wearily, but Brynna refused to be provoked.

“Lots of people,” she said. “And tonight, so do you. Right now,” Brynna said, handing each of them a pencil, “the three of you will go outside and copy Jinx's freeze mark. I've already checked it and you won't be able to read the last few digits without reshaving his neck. For now, though, all I want you to do is copy down these.”

Brynna tapped her copy of the handout example, pointing out the position of the symbol showing Jinx's year of birth and the first number of the state where he'd been captured.

“Got it,” Sam said, eager to unravel the mystery.

“So this will tell us who he really is,” Amelia said slowly.

“Actually,” Brynna said, “we already know he's a sweet-tempered horse that runs like the wind, but balks when you ask him to do it. Still, the freeze mark will tell us more.”

For some reason, Sam was reminded of the talk
she'd had with Brynna on the night before Amelia and Crystal arrived. She'd heard facts about the girls' troubles, but meeting them had told her much more.

Sam pushed the thought aside and asked, “Can we go now?”

Then, they did.

Jinx and Popcorn nickered a welcome as Sam opened the round pen gate.

Sam found she had to divide her attention between Amelia, who rushed into the round pen, and Crystal, who insisted she could do the assignment just fine by peering between the corral's rails from outside.

“You don't know what you're missing,” Amelia said as Popcorn nuzzled her pocket, sniffing for a treat.

When Crystal gave a critical huff, Amelia didn't seem to notice.

That's progress, Sam thought, but then she poised her pencil to start copying the freeze mark.

“Hey Jinx, good boy,” she crooned to the grulla.

Jinx stood against the far fence, ears pricked to attention. Clearly he was interested, but he wasn't coming any closer.

“Stay back,” Sam told Amelia when she started to approach the gelding.

Amelia's eyes widened in surprise. “But why? He's gentle. Brynna said so.”

“He's sweet-tempered, but he's had a hard day,”
Sam explained. “Let him relax a little. You can see well enough to write down those lines, right?”

“I guess,” Amelia said, giving in.

Looking from the horse to her pad, back and forth, Sam wrote down Jinx's freeze mark.

“Time to call it a day, girls,” Brynna called from the porch.

“Just in time,” Crystal said, and both Amelia and Sam agreed they'd barely gotten it down, too.

“Before you go,” Brynna said, as the girls started for the bunkhouse, “let me tell you to keep your answer secret. Tomorrow there'll be a prize for anyone who's correctly transcribed Jinx's birth date and state of origin.”

“What's she think this is, kindergarten?” Crystal mumbled.

Amelia shrugged, but Sam noticed she'd folded her paper in quarters.

Sam let the other girls use the bunkhouse shower first. As they did, she matched the angles with the numbers. Once she had, she thought that Jinx must have found his escape from Clara's coffee shop bittersweet.

The smoky-silver gelding had finally come home.

 

By dawn the next day, Sam was convinced there wasn't a single reason she and Brynna couldn't have a meeting at eight thirty instead of five thirty.

She'd tried to stay awake until Amelia and Crystal had fallen asleep last night, but she'd failed.

Amelia's whispered “no!” had roused her, sometime after midnight, but Sam hadn't asked what they were talking about. Instead, she'd taken comfort in hearing Amelia stand up to Crystal. Then, Sam had rolled over and gone back to sleep.

Now she pulled herself into a sitting position and rubbed her face with both hands. When she dropped her hands into her lap, she thought she saw Amelia's open eyes snap closed.

Sam glanced at Crystal's bunk. The girl was wrapped like a mummy in her covers.

Moving on tiptoe, Sam went to the bathroom sink and threw cold water on her face. Wide awake, she dressed, then she sat on her bunk to pull on her boots. There was no way she was going down that path in socks. She shuddered. She wouldn't sit on a boulder she might be sharing with a rattlesnake, even on a dare.

She picked up her homework and, once outside, Sam sprinted toward the ranch house.

“Are you going to let Amelia ride Jinx before Thursday?” Sam asked once she and Brynna faced each other over hot drinks.

What she really wanted was to ask what she'd won, but she tried to be mature, even though it was just the three of them today. Dad had stayed out all night gathering strays with Pepper and Ross.

“Probably tomorrow,” Brynna said. “She's doing great.”

“Given their situations,” Gram said over the sound of her wire whisk beating froth onto more hot chocolate, “I think both those young ladies are doing just fine. It's only Tuesday, for heaven's sake.”

“What are you doing, Gram?” Sam asked. Since Dad and the cowboys were gone, the cups of hot chocolate couldn't be for them.

“She's spoiling those girls. I don't think HARP pictured serving them breakfast in bed,” Brynna said in a despairing tone.

“This is not breakfast in bed,” Gram insisted. “Just a little cocoa to start the morning off right.”

With Blaze bouncing at her heels, Gram opened the door with one hand while the other held the handles of two blue pottery mugs. She bustled out the door, avoiding any more discussion.

“It can't hurt, I suppose,” Brynna said. “I'm going to make them shovel manure later today, so it'll balance out.”

Sam laughed, but then she remembered Crystal saying Popcorn was disgusting just because he'd drooled a little bit.

“What are we going to do with Crystal?”

“You mean how squeamish she is, and fearful?” Brynna asked.

“Not just that,” Sam said. “Last night, I was telling them they had to wear boots when they rode, and I kind of made a big deal about, you know, having a heel so your foot didn't slip through the stirrup and all that, and she refused.”

“Well, she's not mounting any horse on this ranch without boots,” Brynna said. “It's a safety issue. HARP requires it.”

“I know,” Sam said. “Do you think she's just being difficult, or is she really afraid of horses?”

“From what I've heard, Crystal isn't afraid of much of anything.” Brynna sighed. “I guess we should just be glad she hasn't tried any of the adrenaline junkie stunts I was warned about.”

“I guess,” Sam said, but then she stopped.

She listened.

From out in the yard, had Gram called her name?

Eyes wide with dread, Brynna stood. She was around the kitchen table and moving toward the door when Gram shouted again and Blaze began to bark.

“C
rystal's missing,” Gram shouted from the middle of the yard.

Brynna turned toward Sam as she started out the door.

“Call Sheriff Ballard,” she said.

“But why?” Sam asked. She'd seen Brynna deal with wild horse rustlers who ended up in prison. Surely she could handle Crystal.

Amid the confusion, Brynna didn't seem to hear her.

“Will you get down!” Brynna said, impatiently, pushing Blaze away when he jumped up at her, still barking.

“Sam, was she still there when you left the bunkhouse?” Gram asked as she came closer.

“Yes, I'm sure—” Sam broke off. “No, I'm not. I thought I saw her, but she was all bundled up. I guess she could have arranged blankets to look like it was her.”

Sam spotted Amelia sprinting down the sunflower path as if she expected a snake to whip around her ankle if she didn't hurry.

“We'd better ask her.” Sam pointed.

“I tried,” Gram said. “She's being stubborn. We'd best get started without her help.”

“I'll talk to Amelia,” Brynna said coldly. “Sam, call the sheriff.”

This time, Sam didn't question Brynna's instructions.

Sam's hands shook as she held the telephone receiver and stared at the neon green list of emergency phone numbers posted next to it.

By the time she talked her way past the county switchboard, Sam was frustrated and flushed.

As she waited on hold for the sheriff's office, Sam wondered if Brynna would stop her from strangling Crystal.

This might be the last time HARP trusted River Bend Ranch to run the program, since Crystal had just proven they hadn't kept close enough track of her.

Crystal obviously didn't care about anyone except
herself, but Amelia! How could she do this to them when the HARP program had brought Amelia together with Jinx?

Most of all, Sam was mad at herself for sleeping through Crystal's escape.

She slammed her fist against her jean leg.

“Come on, come
on
,” she muttered into the telephone's mouthpiece.

Finally the sheriff answered.

“Ballard.”

“This is Samantha Forster at River Bend Ranch. One of the HARP girls is missing,” Sam blurted.

“Why didn't you dial 911?” Sheriff Ballard snapped.

Sam sucked in a breath. Of course. That would have saved lots of time. Why hadn't she thought of it?

“I, uh, didn't think it was an emergency,” she said.

Then Sheriff Ballard dumped an avalanche of other questions on her, and each one embarrassed Sam more because she didn't know the answers.

What was Crystal's last name? How tall was she? Who had seen her last? When? What had she been wearing? Had she ever run away before?

“Yes!” Sam answered, glad to finally know an answer.

“Did she have access to a vehicle?”

“She's only going into eighth grade,” Sam began. Then she remembered Crystal had been arrested for joyriding in a stolen car. “She had access, but—” Sam
pulled back the curtain to see Gram's car and both trucks parked where they belonged. “All our vehicles are here.”

“Tell you what, Samantha,” Sheriff Ballard said, and Sam realized he hadn't just been sitting at his desk when she heard a car start. “I'm on my way out to River Bend, but since she's pulled this before, I'll keep Search and Rescue on standby.”

The screen door creaked and Sam looked up.

“Tell him we'll start looking from our end,” Brynna shouted as she grabbed a jacket from the hook by the front door.

Sam repeated the message to the sheriff.

“Leave someone there in case she comes back on her own,” he cautioned.

“He said to leave someone here—” Sam began after she'd hung up.

Gram had just come into the kitchen. Amelia followed her. Red-rimmed eyes showed behind her glasses. After one quick glance Sam's way, Amelia looked down.

“You two will be riding faster than I'd like, so I'll stay here with Amelia,” Gram said. “I've got Popcorn and Jinx up in the round pen if you want to take them.”

Surprised, Brynna said, “Thanks, Grace. When—?”

“I woke up early—Blaze was scratching at the door, crazy to go out. Guess I know why now—” Gram shook her head. “It never crossed my mind that
one of the girls would leave. But I suppose there's plenty of blame to go around. We're all new at this.

“At any rate, I like being in the pasture at daybreak, so I figured I'd save you the trouble of catching them. Good thing I did. Of course, Ace is just green with jealousy.”

Sam could hear her bay gelding neighing. Another equine voice joined his. Dark Sunshine, she thought, and a jolt of anxiety made her worry about Tempest. The foal shouldn't be surrounded by tension she couldn't understand.

Sam followed Brynna out the door.

A glance toward the ten-acre pasture showed her Ace, gleaming red-gold in the rising sun.

On the porch behind her, Sam heard footsteps. Then she heard sniffing. Amelia was crying, but Sam was too angry to comfort her.

As Sam hurried after Brynna, Amelia followed.

Brynna stood with one hand on the gate of the round pen as she asked, “Do you want to take Jinx?”

“He's the fastest,” Amelia insisted.

Sam shook her head. “I can't count on him.”

Amelia blushed. “He just needs a chance.”

“Too much is at stake if he blows it,” Sam told her. “If I have to deal with his balking, or if I get thrown, I've just created another problem.”

Amelia's hands tangled in front of her. Inside the round pen, Brynna clucked her tongue at Popcorn, about to lead him out.

Sam knew she should be getting the tack instead of talking to Amelia. She turned toward the barn.

“I didn't know she was really going to do it!” Amelia said.

Sam whirled back. “No, but if we lose the HARP program, it's your fault!”

“Samantha, you're out of line,” Brynna said over the sound of Amelia's weeping. “I'm the adult in charge. I should have known better than to—there's no time for this now. Bring me the tack, then go get a horse.”

She should have known better than to trust me sleeping in the bunkhouse
, Sam thought as she took down Popcorn's and Ace's bridles. That's what Brynna had been about to say.

Sam hurried even faster, struggling under the weight of the two saddles.

Sam had reached Brynna and Popcorn when Blaze began yapping excitedly and Jake, driving his mother's damaged Honda, bumped over River Bend's bridge.

“What now?” Brynna said as she slapped the saddle blanket on Popcorn and shifted it into position, all the while watching Jake.

“He asked me to write a statement about the accident for him. It's in the bunkhouse,” Sam said.

“Jake can get it himself. Just tell him where you left it,” Brynna ordered. “We should have been saddled up and out of here by now and you still have to catch Ace.”

“Right,” Sam said, then sprinted toward the ten-acre pasture.

Ace was rubbing against the gate when Sam reached it. He'd be easy to halter. Ace had an instinct for when to play games and when to cooperate.

As she came closer, Ace tossed his head in excitement, showing the white star that lay beneath his black forelock.

“You're my best boy,” Sam crooned to the horse, but when he stared over her head, Sam looked back, too.

Crystal stood beside the Honda with Jake.

Hooves struck the fence behind her as Sam hurried toward them. Poor Ace would have to wait a little longer.

Arms folded and tucked against her ribs, Crystal faced Brynna.

“I just needed a ride to Las Vegas,” Crystal claimed.

Brynna blinked, ignored the fact that Las Vegas was about seven hundred miles away, and considered the girl carefully.

“You want to go home?” Brynna asked. She was usually such an understanding person, Sam was shocked by her strict tone.

“Not home, just Las Vegas.”

“And you thought Jake would give you that ride?” Brynna asked.

“Why shouldn't he?” Crystal's voice quavered.
Her hands covered her eyes for a minute. “Besides, I didn't know it was him until he pulled over. I was in the car before I recognized him.” Crystal's hands dropped away from her eyes and all of her vulnerability fell away, too. “He wouldn't help me.”

Crystal glared at Jake with a venom that told its own story.

Sam imagined Crystal begging Jake to keep driving south. His stubborn refusal would have made Crystal furious.

“She was hitchhiking, about a half mile on down the road.” Jake nodded toward Darton.

“We won't discuss the danger involved,” Brynna began.

“Nothing happened. I can do anything I want and nothing ever happens,” Crystal sneered. “It's just like your rattlesnakes. Scary stories to keep kids in line.”

Silence hung around them for a full minute, but Sam recognized Brynna's fury. Crystal must have, too.

“Hey, he grabbed my arm,” Crystal accused. She pointed at Jake, then pushed at her sleeve, searching for a bruise.

Brynna's complexion matched her red hair, but she was struggling for the words of a professional.

“Thank you, Jake,” Brynna said.

“
Thank
you?” Crystal roared.

“Shall I call Sheriff Ballard and tell him we found her?” Sam asked.

“No. Let him keep coming.”

“Oh, right,” Crystal hooted with fake laughter. “Like I'll be afraid of some cow county sheriff!”

“No,” Brynna said quietly. “Like I want an official record of this. Go sit on the porch.”

Defiance flared in Crystal's pale blue eyes, but only for a second. Then she saw Amelia watching from the porch.

“Yes ma'am,” Crystal said in a mocking tone, then sauntered away.

“You are a lifesaver.” Brynna gripped Jake's forearm.

Embarrassed, he shrugged. “I did grab her arm. The car was moving and she opened the door to jump.”

Sam pictured Jake's strong right hand, his roping hand, reaching over to clamp on Crystal's arm. Then, stubbornly and silently, he'd keep driving.

Giggles fought to escape Sam's lips. She covered her mouth to smother them. Laughter would be totally inappropriate right now, but she couldn't help thinking that if Jake had been Crystal's big brother, she'd be less of a pain.

“You're not in trouble, Jake,” Brynna assured him.

“Yeah,” he said on a long sigh. “I am.” He glanced pointedly at his mother's car. “It's either pay to have it fixed—which I can't do without touching my savings—or fix it myself.”

Jake's eyes scanned the ten-acre pasture and the hitching rail where Popcorn stood alone. “You get rid of Jinx?”

“He's in the round pen,” Sam said.

Sure Jake was having a run of bad luck, but he couldn't blame it on Jinx.

Jake nodded and Sam was about to go retrieve her written account of the accident when Sheriff Ballard arrived. Before he was even out of the car, he'd taken in their relaxed demeanor.

“Is one of them our runaway?” he asked, nodding toward the porch.

“The dark-haired girl,” Brynna said. “Jake found her out on the highway, trying to hitchhike to Las Vegas.”

“Dangerous business, hitchhiking,” the sheriff said. “These kids don't think. Even out here, you never know who's passing through. I'll go have a word with her.”

“My curiosity might kill me,” Sam whispered, staring after Sheriff Ballard.

“Mine, too, but it's better if we stay here,” Brynna said.

Jake shifted his weight from boot to boot, then darted a glance at Sam.

“I'll go get that thing I wrote,” she said.

She tried to eavesdrop as she jogged off toward the bunkhouse, but she only heard a fragment of conversation.

“You talk to me, not her.” Sheriff Ballard's tone said he meant business.

Before she started down the path to the bunkhouse, Sam studied each boulder individually. No snakes.

“Probably couldn't stand the craziness around here,” Sam mumbled to herself.

Inside the quiet bunkhouse, Sam found her statement and returned—just as carefully—to give it to Jake.

The girls were nowhere in sight. Sam guessed they were inside the house, since Sheriff Ballard stood talking to Brynna.

Jake stood off a few paces and his turned back gave them some privacy.

When Sam reached Jake, she gestured him to keep his voice down. She had to know what Brynna and the sheriff were saying.

“Our girl Crystal's been through this before,” the sheriff said. “Knows runaway is a juvenile status offense, that it wouldn't be a crime if she was eighteen, and keeps saying she needs to get to Las Vegas. Won't say why, and she swears she's not trying to get home, but I'll bet if we check, she's tried to get home before.”

Sam felt a sudden prickling of tears. She didn't like Crystal, but she understood her, a little bit.

Her own dad hadn't sent her away after Mom had died, but he had made her live in San Francisco with
Aunt Sue after the accident. Even though she'd known it was for her own good, she'd resented it.

It would hurt a lot more if she'd believed Dad had been sending her away for punishment.

“Something's not right,” Brynna said.

“Horse coming.” Jake's voice crowded out the other conversation. He stared toward the range. “Wyatt and the hands due back this morning?”

“I don't know,” Sam hissed, then made a flat-palmed gesture for Jake to keep his voice down.

“—put a call in to someone. I mean, Crystal doesn't even like horses,” Brynna said.

“Imagine that,” the sheriff joked, but Brynna went on talking.

“HARP kids go through a rigorous screening process. They want to be here. It's supposed to be the best of all possible second chances.”