Secret Star (13 page)

“He'll be fine, Ben,” Inez said, but she shot a worried glance past him. “Just cover for me with Candice.”

“Much as I can,” he said, following her glance to where the copper-haired woman was obviously correcting someone by shaking her index finger.

Who was she?
Sam wondered. Someone important?

“Really, Ben, he'll be fine once I get him up there. You'll get some heart-stopping shots,” Inez said, lifting her chin to the cleft at the top of the rock face. “He was spectacular up there yesterday and you know that if she isn't pleased with what she sees, she'll put the word out that he's finished as a stunt horse.”

Heart-stopping shots, Sam thought. So, was Ben a cameraman? If so, how could he cover for her with Candice? And if Candice declared Bayfire finished as a stunt horse, did she really have enough influence to hurt him and Inez?

Her job's at risk,
Sam reminded herself, and despite the chill, she felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. Her worries were no excuse for not going up the
steep trail with Inez and Bayfire.

But how would they get him up there?

The stallion lunged against the reins as Inez tried to maneuver him into a position where she could mount.

“I don't want to tell you your business,” Dr. Scott said, “but if he's friendly with Ace, you might take the two of them up there.”

“Is this a setup?” Sam asked the vet. She meant for it to sound like a joke, but apparently her uneasiness came though.

“Why, no it's not.” Dr. Scott's eyes considered her as if she were a stranger.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “I'm not too crazy about heights.”

“We'll be fine,” Inez said. She swung into Bayfire's saddle with the certainty of someone used to being solitary and strong.

She's giving me a way out,
Sam thought. The two of them would do fine alone.

Inez leaned close to the stallion's neck, murmuring, but when she lifted her hand to stroke Bayfire's neck, her fingers were splayed wide, as if Inez were trying to stop them from trembling. It wasn't working.

“We're coming,” Sam said, and then, with no more than Ace's halter and lead rope, she took the knee-up that the vet offered, and mounted.

Inez's breath came out in a loud sigh.

“Thanks,” she said.

Sam felt good about her decision. It was the right thing to do, but that didn't mean she wasn't nervous.

As they rode up the wet and winding path, she talked to Ace in a whisper so low, only he could hear. “I don't know about this.”

“H
ow're you doing?” Sam asked Inez when they paused halfway up the trail.

She could barely see through the drizzle, but she tried to sound hearty and convinced that everything was going just fine.

“Great,” Inez said. “The only thing I like better than the wet-dog aroma of this costume is the way it feels like sandpaper against my neck. Oh, and the fact that nothing makes Candice happier—she's the assistant producer and holds the moneybags, if you get my meaning—than when other people mess up and she can gossip about it. It's like she makes herself bigger by making others smaller.” Inez took a deep breath. “But we're not going to mess up, are we,
boy?” she said to Bayfire.

A few minutes later, Inez shook her head as if she'd just realized Sam was still there, and asked, “How're
you
doing?”

“Okay,” Sam said, and she meant it.

She rocked back, balancing on her seat bones like she had when she'd first learned to ride. She exhaled and, despite the bony ridge of Ace's spine, Sam relaxed.

“Move with the horse,” Jake had told her all those years ago. “Then you'll never be surprised.”

Smiling, Sam even felt brave enough to peer off the trail's edge, to all the lights and cameras down below. On the edge of the swarm of activity, she saw a truck that looked familiar.

“Hey, I think I can see Jake and his mom and—” Sam straightened, tightening her legs around Ace just to stay upright. “Whoa, boy.”

Then, she turned toward Inez, who was holding a hand out as if checking the quality of the rain, and asked, “Why would Pepper be here?”

“I don't know,” Inez answered, gathering her reins and urging Bayfire forward once more. “Who's Pepper? If he's not some guy who's going to save my neck if we miss this drizzle—”

“Never mind. I'm just being paranoid,” Sam said, but she wished she hadn't seen Pepper. “It was definitely him.”

The only thing that would get him up here on a day
off after haying was Violette Lee. Sam just knew it.

Okay, that's not so weird,
Sam thought, trying to ignore the drumming of her heart.
As long as she's down there and not up here, what's the problem?

Still, the possibility that Violette was down below made Sam glad to reach the top of the cleft rock.

“Ben's giving me the go-ahead. Let's get this done,” Inez muttered, looking down toward the cameras.

As if he understood, Bayfire shied away from the edge. He tossed his head and backed, though Inez's legs clamped so hard against him, Sam could see the trainer urging her horse forward.

“He's not going to jump,” Inez said.

“He can smell the Phantom,” Sam said gloomily.

“So, he's got the fire he's been missing, but he's got more attitude than—” Inez groaned in frustration as the stallion planted his feet, flattened his ears, and snorted.

“Candice is watching, boy. Just give me one jump,” Inez begged the horse, but then she turned toward Sam.

Even in the drizzly darkness, Sam knew what the trainer was thinking. Yesterday, the horses had played follow-the-leader and neither had failed to imitate the other. They were herd animals. That's what they
did.

It didn't matter if the light was dim and the rubber pads a little squishy; Inez wanted her to jump first.

When she closed her eyes, trying to avoid Inez's pleading gaze, Sam saw the image of a furry little rodent biting a raven.

Thanks, Dad,
Sam thought with sour gratitude.

Sam stared at the gap in the rock. Ace could do it. No question.

“Piece of cake,” Sam said, though the words sounded squeaky. “We'll go first and Bayfire will follow.”

“You're the best,” Inez said. “I know you don't want to and we could probably—”

“Hold onto your, uh, hood,” Sam said.

Teeth chattering with cold and nerves, Sam wheeled Ace into position.

She tried to settle back as she had riding up the trail.

Feel the horse. Don't be surprised.

But her attention veered to the sound of someone down below shouting.

“They think you're me, but they'll keep rolling until Bayfire follows,” Inez explained. “Just do it! Sam, go! Now!”

Ace understood. Before she'd touched her heels to him, her mustang gathered himself, lunged forward for a few steps, and then they were flying.

Sam only knew she'd closed her eyes because she opened them in midair. When she did, she saw the Phantom.

That second of distraction cost Sam her balance.

Ace's hooves landed safely on the other side, but he pulled up short, swinging his head left to see whatever Sam had spotted. She slipped to the right, and no matter how she clung to the lead rope and tried to tighten her legs, her weight had shifted too far. She fell over his sleek right shoulder, then hit the rubber mat rolling.

Her grip on the lead rope kept her from going far, but when she stopped, she could see over the edge. If she'd stuck out a hand, she could reach thin air, but she wasn't about to do that.

Any other horse would have bolted.

“You are such a good horse,” Sam told Ace, but when she pushed up from the ground, she realized Ace wasn't just being her pal—he was staring at the Phantom.

Over the cliff and down below, the silver stallion stood on a sandstone ledge. Soft rain mixed with mist, making it hard to tell his contours from the pale rock behind him. His mane drifted in waves, but the sudden upward jerk of his muzzle and quick flash of his teeth were primitive, not dreamy.

Dizzy from the fall and the hypnotic sound of the small waterfall, at first she didn't think of Inez overhearing.

“Zanzibar,” Sam whispered, but no one could have heard because suddenly the stallions were screaming.

Across the gap, Bayfire's head bobbed, eyes
glinting past a black forelock so wet, it stayed plastered to his forehead. If the stunt stallion decided to jump, thinking he'd be closer to the Phantom, Sam knew she wouldn't be safe on the ground.

Still shaking, Sam climbed to her feet.

“No wonder Bayfire was going nuts,” she muttered to Ace as she edged closer to him.

The Phantom was across the canyon, but he wasn't far away. His scent must be everywhere.

“He still won't jump,” Inez yelled across at Sam. “Can you come back and hold him for me? I've got another idea, but I've got to go back and talk with Ben.”

Jump
back
? Of course she had to, Sam thought.

She couldn't stay here. Could she?

“Maybe just 'til the sun comes out,” she told Ace. “It's August, after all. The rain's already slacking off. The sun has to come out sometime.”

Sam placed her hands on Ace's side. No one stood ready to give her a knee up. She had to do this on her own. But why did her hands look so pale?

Fish belly white,
she thought as she scrambled onto his back. She'd barely centered herself when Ace kicked in high spirits and her weight shifted forward.

“Yeah, you think it's fun,” she accused.

Gripping his mane and the single rope rein with both hands, she started backing him for what would be an awfully short running start.

He took two, three—and a half—steps back before he pressed against the bit and took her—
unwilling and unsettled—with him, jumping more perfectly the second time than he had the first.

Sam glanced across the canyon, something moved, but she wasn't sure—was the Phantom still there? She didn't have time to be sure, because Inez was sliding off Bayfire and tossing her the reins.

“What are you—?” Sam broke off. The horses snorted, the waterfall seemed to shush them, and Inez was running much too fast down the path, saying something, shouting, but what?

“Careful of the wet rocks!” Sam yelled, but then she felt silly.

Inez was an adult. She probably knew that the rocks were slippery, that the wet ground was turning muddy, that she could lose her footing and fall.

Sam turned her attention to the stallion.

“Hey, big boy,” Sam crooned to Bayfire, but he slung his head away from her so hard, Sam decided to climb off Ace before the stallion jerked her to the ground.

Her legs trembled, but they held her. She dropped Ace's halter rope. She could trust him to stay ground-tied.

Sam was just thinking there was no better horse in the world when she heard a strange rustling sound.

What could it be? Yesterday she'd noticed the path up was clear of vegetation, so it couldn't be someone or something making its way through thick brush. That's what it sounded like and she could have
missed seeing it, but sodden bushes wouldn't rustle, would they?

Then she realized it wasn't brush at all.

Petticoats,
Sam thought suddenly.

In that instant, Violette Lee appeared. Dressed in flounced pink skirts and a tight bodice cut low on her shoulders, she looked determined, ready to take charge.

“That's it, Samantha, hand over the reins,” Violette demanded. She extended her arm, snapped her fingers, and turned her palm over in readiness. “Give him to a professional.”

Sam took a deep breath. She wasn't sure what to say, but then her thoughts pushed the words out slowly.

“I don't think I will,” Sam said.

B
ayfire spooked, shying sideways.

“Silly, silly boy. You didn't let her ride you, did you?” Violette chided the horse, then barked at Sam, “Did he?”

“No,” Sam said, but Violette's head tilted to one side and her eyelids were half lowered. She wasn't convinced.

“Even if you did, your scene will be erased.” Violette hissed the last word. When Sam took a step back, the actress reached for the reins again. “I can handle him!”

With Ace and the stallion jostling together on the small plateau, Sam wasn't so sure.

She thought of Violette buzzing the cattle in her
plane, and being rude to Gram and Brynna behind their backs. She thought of Violette waltzing past her in her own yard, as if she didn't even exist.

She remembered Jake saying Violette needed to be told she wasn't a princess, but Jake was wrong. Violette knew she was no princess. She just acted that way so people wouldn't know she was still a scared little girl who only felt at home with animals.

But Violette could do a lot of harm while she was pretending. Sam had to stop Violette from hurting the horses, and herself, if she could.

“Get out of here.” Sam kept her voice level, knowing nothing but an order would get the actress's attention. “There's no room to fight.”

For an instant, Violette looked bewildered. She glanced at the wet and gleaming rocks around her, then gave a cold laugh she could only have mastered for a movie.

“No room to fight,” she repeated. “You should be grateful for that, you dirty little cowgirl. Now give me Bayfire.” Violette looked up at the stallion, and a question came into her tone as she insisted, “He loves me!”

Sam could read horses, and she knew the stallion didn't love anyone right now. Rearing and staring, Bayfire challenged the dim silhouette across the canyon.

He could see the Phantom as well as smell him, and he'd recognized the other stallion's defiance.

Then Violette saw the Phantom, too.

“What a magnificent mirage of a horse.” Her voice was faint, as if the sight of the silver stallion had made her breathless.

Rearing in a dare, Bayfire's shoulder grazed Violette and sent her stumbling. She screamed as she fell.

A gasp ripped from Sam's throat.

Violette was so near the edge, Sam released Bayfire's reins and threw herself toward the actress. Arms flung so fast she felt it in her shoulder joints, fingers stretching, reaching, she tried. Sam's fingernails skittered across the pink taffeta skirt, but her hand closed on nothing.

Sam's mind raced, trying to make sense of the neighs, screams, and the sudden darkness around her.

Blinking, Sam realized it was dark because Ace stood over her, protecting her from the plunging stallion who'd set off downhill.

First, Sam looked for the Phantom. He'd disappeared from the sandstone ledge without a good-bye, but then she wondered, where was Violette?

Sam saw Bayfire rear above Inez at the head of the trail.

Inez touched her cheek and Sam knew Inez wasn't injured. It was a signal between the two and Sam hoped it worked.

On all fours, Sam crawled. She tried to get a better view without getting kicked. Ace wouldn't do
it on purpose, but he was a horse, not a pet, and being in the middle of four rock-hard hooves didn't make her feel safe. She'd been kicked in the head before, and no matter what Ace intended, he could hurt her.

“Bay!” It was Inez's voice, though Violette was still someplace nearby, screaming for someone to help her.

“Please,” Sam whispered as the stallion, amazingly, lowered to all fours.

The rain had dwindled to a few pattering drops.

Sam heard the thump of her own heart as Bayfire danced in place. He wasn't about to let her mount up and jump him over the waterfall, but it was a kind of obedience and probably the best Inez could expect.

Inez must have thought so, too, because she pointed down the path, and the stallion galloped on without her.

Inez looked up at the shifting clouds, and Sam was about to ask if they'd shoot the scene later, when Violette screamed once more and this time Sam understood her.

“My arm is shattered!”

By the time Sam crept out from under Ace, Inez had already gone to Violette.

The sky was light enough now that Sam could make out Violette on her side, knees drawn up amid her pink skirts, one arm curled around her head as if she couldn't bear the pain in her other, out-flung arm.

Kneeling beside the actress, Inez glanced up, took
in Sam and her horse, and nodded.

“I wondered where you went.” Her businesslike tone reminded Sam that Inez had been a school nurse. “Why don't you go on down. I have a feeling it's going to get pretty crowded up here soon, and I'd like to know someone's taking care of my horse.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. From where she stood, she could see Violette's eyelids were squinted closed and she was biting her lip.

“I'm sure,” Inez said. “It's just a sprain.”

At that, Violette made a keening sound and Sam moved closer. The actress sounded awfully miserable, Sam thought, but then Violette's eyelids opened and she glared.

“You think you're quite the little wildcat, don't you?” Violette snapped.

Sam looked down at Violette, wanting to tell the actress that it was her own fault if she was hurt, and that it would have been her fault if she'd injured Sam or Ace or the horse she claimed to love.

She wanted to, but she didn't. This was no time for a showdown. Besides, Jake wasn't here to watch.

“Sam,” Inez reminded her, “if Bayfire's taken off, find the emergency bucket of grain. That always works.”

“Right,” Sam said, but then, before she could leave, Inez stopped her.

“Whatever you do, don't talk to Candice until I can see what Ben shot. Okay?”

Bayfire hadn't jumped, so the cameraman couldn't have gotten anything useful for the movie. Could he?

But Inez's voice sounded so pleading, that Sam just said, “Sure.” Then she hurried down the path, leading Ace.

A figure was lurching up the path and it only took her a second to recognize Pepper.

“She's fine,” Sam called to him.

“Thank goodness,” he answered with a worried smile, and he ran right past her.

Ace wanted to hurry, but Sam didn't let him. This was no time to fall on a rain-slickened rock.

When Sam reached level ground, Jake was waiting.

“Didn't mean you had to break her arm,” he joked.

“What?” Sam gasped. “Oh, you mean Violette?” Sam let out a breath and a shaky laugh. “Sorry you didn't have a front-row seat, but actually, it wasn't very exciting. She broke her own arm.” Then Sam shrugged. “Only sprained it, really.”

“I figured,” he said. “Still, good job up there, Brat.”

Of course Jake didn't explain whether he was talking about keeping the horses safe, or jumping, or not pushing Violette all the way off the edge, but Sam didn't care. She gave him a gigantic hug.

Sam had just an instant to think Jake smelled of horses and denim and rain, a pretty nice combination,
before he pushed her away.

“Horse isn't gonna put up with much more of this, and I need to head for home,” he said, slapping Bayfire's reins into her hand.

“Okay,” Sam said, and as Jake stalked away, she couldn't help laughing.

He might have cut his hair and he might be headed for college, but Jake was still Jake.

 

Sam had settled Ace and Bayfire in the shelter reserved for them, when she smelled the scent of strong coffee behind her.

“Hi, there.” Candice the assistant producer stood just behind her. She offered Sam a white Styrofoam cup filled with coffee.

Should she take it? Inez had said to stay away from the “keeper of the moneybags.” Not only that, but Sam could see Ben, the cameraman who seemed to be Inez's friend, standing just behind Candice.

He looked jumpy. If he'd been a horse, she would have spoken to him in soothing tones. But he was a person and this was a situation totally foreign to her.

“How you doing?” Candice asked.

Just over the woman's shoulder, Sam saw Ben making a zipping motion across his lips. But she had to say something, didn't she?

“Okay,” Sam answered.

“Good, good,” Candice said. “The vet's gone up to take a look at Violette, but she's okay, I take it?”

“I'm not sure,” Sam said.

“Inez has some medical skills, so she's probably looking at her.” Candice's voice went up, but it wasn't really a question, so Sam just stared at her.

“It's a good thing she got Bayfire pulled together,” Candice said.

Sam couldn't figure out whether the woman was just making conversation or grilling her for information. Still, she hadn't asked a question, so Sam just smiled.

Candice's lips opened, then closed. She shook her head.

If she's decided I'm not worth talking to,
Sam thought,
why doesn't she go away?

“So much for that,” Candice said, turning away from Sam to face Ben.

So much for what?
Sam wondered.

“I don't think we'll be sending anyone back up and that jump wasn't half bad,” she said as they walked away.

“But—” Sam began. She'd been about to say Bayfire hadn't jumped. She stopped just in time.

“Yes?” Candice said, wheeling on her as if intuition told her something was wrong. “What is it?”

Inez had said Candice loved to catch other people messing up.

Behind Candice, Ben buried his face in his hands.

Sam took a deep breath. She wasn't sure how to get out of this.

“What was it you were going to say?” Candice asked. “Go right ahead,” she encouraged.

Oh well, Candice already thought she was a lost cause.

“Uh, do you think I could have a donut to go with my coffee?” Sam asked.

Candice gave a condescending chuckle.

“Take care of her, Ben,” she said, then walked away.

Ben gave Sam a thumbs-up sign and whispered, “Nice save.”

“Real nice,” Sam said, feeling embarrassed, though there was no reason she should worry about what Candice thought of her. “She thinks I'm dumb as a rock.”

“So what? She thinks everyone is,” Ben said.

 

It was almost an hour later by the time Dr. Scott had splinted and wrapped Violette's arm at her insistence, and Pepper—proud of the responsibility—had driven her to the hospital in Darton.

Although Inez was eager to load up the horses and get back to her cozy camper where she could change into dry clothes, when the cameraman Ben motioned to her, she pushed back the wet hood of her costume, tightened her ponytail, and looked suddenly alert.

“What's up?” Inez asked.

“I've got something you're going to want to see,”
Ben told her.

Exhausted as she was, Inez hurried over to watch a monitor.

Sam didn't groan, but she wished Jake hadn't already left with his mother. They would have given her a ride home.

Or she could have ridden with Pepper. Still, he'd been hauling Violette with him, and he wouldn't have made a detour to River Bend before heading to the hospital.

Sam imagined that trip with Violette and decided she'd much rather stand here with the horses, even if it meant getting soggier by the second.

“Wow,” Inez said, pulling Sam's attention back.

Excitement and disappointment whirled together in that single word and Sam was moving toward Inez before the trainer motioned her over.

Both Inez and Ben looked over their shoulders, searching, Sam would bet, for Candice, before they rewound the film.

“Watch,” Ben said, and Sam did.

Somehow the camera's eye had peered through the curtain of rain, turning it to silver mist and there, silhouetted against the sky, she and Ace jumped over the miniature waterfall.

“He looks amazing! It's so dramatic,” Sam sputtered. Her little brown mustang looked absolutely magnificent! And then she realized what this meant. “Is that what Candice—?” Sam whispered, but she
couldn't manage to finish the sentence.

“At first even I thought it was Bayfire,” Ben said, almost under his breath, “and I was watching your whole circus going on up there.”

Sam stared at Inez.

“She thinks it's us,” Inez said, touching her chest. “Ben says she's happy with the shot and she hasn't made any more remarks about Bayfire being finished.”

But the horse leaping that cliff wasn't Bayfire! It was Ace, and he deserved to get credit for his wonderful performance, didn't he?

Sam's heart pounded and she swallowed against the lump in her throat.

If she let the producer think the glorious leap had been made by Bayfire, Inez and the stunt horse would keep their jobs and, more important, their reputations as experts. If she forced the producer to see that the horse in that shot was Ace…

Sam looked toward Bayfire and Ace. Her little brown mustang was lipping the stallion's mane, grooming him as he would a best friend.

Ace didn't care whether or not he got credit, Sam realized. It was her. She wanted to tell Dad and Brynna and Gram and Jake and Jen! She wanted to show Violette that—what?

Sam put her hands on her hips and faced Inez and Ben.

The cameraman's frown told Sam he thought she'd be too starstruck to turn down the glory. Inez
looked hopeful.

She knows me better,
Sam thought.

“What if we make a deal?” Sam said.

“You want the footage I took of the wild horse across the canyon?” Ben blurted.

Surprise whiplashed through Sam. Of course, a man who depended on his eyes for his artistry would have spotted the Phantom. A video of the Phantom!

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped.

“You're not a very good negotiator,” Inez said, laughter breaking her tension.