Snowfire (10 page)

T
he first gray rays of dawn woke Darby.

Beside her, Ann was curled down so low in her sleeping bag, only a tuft of curly red hair showed.

Darby fished in her backpack and pulled out clean underwear, socks, jeans, and a T-shirt. She squirmed down into her sleeping bag to change.

When Darby emerged from the tent, she was alone on the misty ridge where they'd set up camp. Last night's wood smoke scented the air, but that was the only similarity between this place and the site where she'd camped before, with Megan and Ann.

From this ridge she looked through a blanket of fog to see rolling hills and dark swaths of rain forest. Here and there a tree stood tall enough to pierce
the densest gray. In the distance, Sky Mountain's peak rose through clouds.

Rustling in the nearby trees made Darby jump, but it was just her grandfather, arms loaded with wood.

“Good morning,” he greeted her. “I didn't expect to see you up so early.”

“And I thought
you
were still asleep,” Darby said.

He shook his head, dropping the wood by the rock circle of last night's fire. “I wanted to get the fire going to have breakfast ready when you woke up, but since you're here you can help me start it. I'll show you how.”

Darby crouched next to her grandfather as he demonstrated how to stack kindling into a little wooden hut. Until it caught, he wouldn't let her lay the heavier wood on.

“Make sure you stack it so that the air can circulate around it,” he instructed.

“Are we having poi?” Darby asked, remembering what Megan had said.

He looked at her, surprised. “How did you know?”

“Megan told us you like to bring it on camping trips,” Darby said.

Brown skin crinkled at the corners of Jonah's dark eyes as he coaxed the fire into life. “I'll bet she told you it was delicious, yeah?”

Should she lie or hurt his feelings? She didn't want to do either. “I don't remember what she said.”

“You're a bad liar, Granddaughter,” he said with a chuckle. “Mekana hates my poi because her mother loads it up with milk and sugar for her, and I make it the traditional way.”

Jonah was right. Aunty Cathy's mashed taro root tasted a little like the instant oatmeal Darby used to heat in the microwave in California. It was stickier, but mostly she'd noticed its sweetness.

“When I was young, poi was so important to our people that whenever a bowl of poi was uncovered at the table, we believed that the spirits of our ancestors were with us,” Jonah told her. “It was so sacred that any fighting among family members had to come to a stop while the bowl was on the table.”

“That's a good tradition,” Darby said.

“It is,” Jonah agreed. “And since we were always eating poi, it made for a lot of peaceful meals. I recall times when your aunt Babe and I were fighting, but we had to stop to eat poi. After the meal we often forgot what we'd been fighting about.”

When the fire was strong, Jonah began heating his pot of poi. The smell drew Ann from the tent. With eyebrows raised skeptically, she considered the bubbling white paste, then looked at Darby and asked silently,
Poi?

Darby nodded.

“There are some ‘ohelo berries on the bushes over there,” Jonah said, pointing to nearby bushes dotted with berries that looked like a combination of a
cranberry and a coffee bean. “Go pick them and you can toss some into the poi. They're sweet.”

“Remember the last time we went camping and found ‘ohelo berries?” Ann asked as she and Darby headed toward the bushes carrying their empty cups. “The horses went crazy for them.”

“After we eat, let's pick some extras for them,” Darby suggested. She glanced over at the horses. Kona's eyes were closed, and a back hoof rested on its point. The wild horses must have moved far enough away that he couldn't smell them anymore.

Before Darby poured the berries into her bowl, she scooped up a few and arranged them on a flat rock. Tutu had told her that ‘ohelo berries were Pele's favorites, and though Darby didn't exactly believe in the volcano goddess, memories of a sky filled with red-hot boulders made her reluctant to skip the tradition.

Jonah's poi wasn't terrible, just bland, and adding the ‘ohelo berries helped.

After breakfast they broke camp. Darby and Ann fed the horses and then gave them the berries, which they licked from the girls' palms before they could put them on the ground.

The girls saddled up, mounted, and watched to see which way Jonah would lead.

Jonah kept Kona at a walk as they moved over smooth pahoehoe. Of course the volcanic rock showed no hoof marks, but when they came to damp grass they took turns watching the ground. Darby still didn't see
signs that horses had passed this way, but she noticed that the grass in the sun stood up straighter than the blades still in the shade.

Jonah gestured for them to follow him toward the marsh, and that was where they spotted the hoofprints of the horses they'd surprised the night before.

“We'll see if we track them to Sky Mountain,” he explained. “They might've climbed higher to get away from us.”

Darby was trying to remember the last time she'd ridden on slippery lava rock like this before, when Jonah slowed and pointed to the ground.

“Fresh tracks,” he said. “Lots of them. Let's see if we can catch up.” Jonah moved his rein hand just slightly and his gray stepped out, with Biscuit and Navigator right behind him.

Darby had such faith in Navigator's good sense, even the fast pace over steep terrain didn't frighten her.

After following the tracks for about a mile, Jonah slowed Kona, then halted. Her grandfather held out his left arm and sighted along it.

“What's up?” Darby asked.

“The tracks veered off, then just disappeared. They could've gone over that slab of rock, but not if they're headed for Sky Mountain.”

“Maybe Snowfire surprised them,” Darby suggested.

Kona lifted his black-gray muzzle and flattened his
ears. Then he danced his front legs forward and back.

Darby and Ann exchanged excited glances, and then looked to Jonah. He pressed Kona's neck with one hand, telling the horse to settle down, then turned back toward the marsh.

Before they reached it, Jonah took Kona up a trail that overlooked a swath of green grass. Kona neighed again, sounding even more agitated than before.

Darby smothered her gasp. A large herd of horses grazed below them. On a small rise of earth, just high enough to give him a view of the many colored mares and foals, stood Snowfire.

As Jonah motioned for them to move back, he whispered, “If you can see them, they smelled you ten minutes ago.”

Keeping low, they left the trail, dismounted, and led their mounts. Darby planned the placement of her boots, watching for scree that could make her slip, fall, and cause a commotion.

They used trees and bushes for cover, and either they did a good job, or Snowfire didn't mind their presence.

The majestic, broad-chested white stallion was pure
kanaka
, a native Hawaiian whose lineage was undiluted by tame horses because his herd had always lived at such a high altitude.

As they watched, Snowfire left his solitary position, following a narrow path, then leaped down to confront a young bay stallion. The bay had lowered his
head in a snaking motion, trying to persuade a mare to take directions.

Snowfire snorted, then aimed a kick at the young stallion, and his message was clear: If the young stallion didn't stop flirting with Snowfire's mare, he'd be kicked out of the herd.

The bay looked a little surly as he obeyed, then blew through his lips and began to graze with two red dun fillies.

Darby waited for Snowfire to chase him off once again, but this time the lead stallion didn't seem to care. He gazed at the youngster, but then returned to his grazing.

“He's not chasing him away from those females. I wonder why,” Ann whispered.

Jonah shook his head. “Those fillies are probably his daughters, or too closely related to make good broodmares for his herd.”

“So, what happens?” Darby barely breathed the words.

“Some rival stallion will steal them,” he answered. “Snowfire will pretend to protest, but he'll let it happen.”

“Then why hasn't Black Lava already stolen them?” Ann whispered.

With a slight but precise movement, Jonah pointed out four mares who stood a little apart from the others. One dun was a bright yellow, which reminded Darby of sulfur, and the others were shades of gray, from
charcoal to nearly white.

Darby recognized the mares just as Jonah said, “I bet Black Lava was more interested in taking back his own mares, and that's why Snowfire drove him all the way down to the ranch.”

L
ater that day, once they were back at the ranch and Ann had gone home, Darby brushed Navigator and Biscuit, cleaned their feet, and turned Biscuit loose.

“Just a little longer,” she told Navigator. “I have to keep trying.”

The big Quarter Horse looked at her with wise eyes, emphasized by the rust-colored circles surrounding them, and yawned as she tied him by his neck rope within reach of a fresh pile of hay.

Darby showered the campfire smoke from her body and hair, then returned to Navigator.

“We're going to try something new,” she told the horse, then led him over to the side hill. Bouncing on her toes, she managed to launch her middle across
Navigator's bare back, then pull herself on and up.

Using only the gelding's neck rope to guide him, she rode bareback, carefully, down to see Hoku in the lower pasture. She caught sight of her filly as they got closer.

Hoku grazed with the other horses, but she remained on the outskirts of the group. Somehow, she was still on her own. In the afternoon sun, her coat glinted with a coppery luster.

Darby felt the same jolt of love that she experienced each time she looked at Hoku. She had to win back the filly's trust.

Darby rode farther down the trail to the broodmare pasture, shifting from the right side of Navigator's spine to the left with each of his steps.

“For a big horse, you don't feel like you have much fat on you,” she told him.

She stopped Navigator outside the gate to the pasture, but she didn't go inside. She sat on Navigator for two minutes before Hoku lifted her head, ears forward. The mustang's attentiveness lasted only for a second.

Again Hoku turned her tail in Darby's direction.

“Why are you so stubborn?” she muttered, but she didn't give in to her frustration. Hoku had to see her strength if Darby was going to turn this situation around. In her jeans pocket she had a packet of the ‘ohelo berries she'd brought with her, remembering how Hoku had gobbled them up the last time they'd
ridden near Two Sisters.

Hoku's vanilla tail swished as she grazed near a bay mare named Honolulu Lulu.

Had the two become friends? Just as Darby had wanted to fit in when she first arrived at Lehua High, did Hoku want to be part of this horse herd?

But she also loved Darby. Deep down Darby knew it was true.

Hoku never would have challenged a full-grown stallion like Black Lava, with no thought for her own safety, if she hadn't been devoted to Darby.

“It's just a big misunderstanding,” Darby told Navigator, but she didn't tell him that both their hearts were hurting. “Thanks for doing your part, big boy.”

Darby slid off Navigator, removed his neck rope, and gave him a gentle swat, turning him loose as she climbed the fence and made her way past the other horses toward Hoku.

The mares and foals glanced up with mild interest. Maybe they caught the scent of ‘ohelo berries in her pocket, or maybe they just wondered why she'd become such a frequent visitor here.

She spoke to some of them, stroking their manes, recalling a time when Jonah had instructed her to ride Navigator in Hoku's presence in order to make the filly jealous.

She started out petting an old bay gelding named Judge, then ended up hugging him.

He gave a low
huh, huh, huh
sound, almost a
chuckle, and a sidelong glance told Darby that Hoku was watching.

Darby reached in her pocket, extracted a single ‘ohelo berry, and fed it to Judge. This caught the interest of several horses, but only Hoku felt entitled to walk up to Darby and investigate.

Darby's heartbeat accelerated. It wasn't easy to stay with Judge instead of running to her filly to say she was sorry. But she did it, weaving her fingers through Judge's coarse black mane, working out tangles as she found them.

Let her come to you,
she thought. She pretended to be oblivious to Hoku's slow, curious advance.

“Judge, when you were born in a barn in Nevada, did you ever think you'd end up here? Neither did I.”

Darby fed Judge another berry and petted his muzzle. Hoku was so close, Darby could feel the heat quaking from the mustang's body.

“But I don't think we'll talk to her just yet, do you, Judge? You've been the good boy all along, and you deserve—”

In the next second Darby was bounced off her feet. Hoku rubbed her face on Darby's back so roughly she pushed her forward, and Darby fell against Judge.

Darby turned and looked at Hoku. She didn't care that it was a push. Hoku was paying attention to her again!

“Don't let her do that to you!” Jonah yelled sternly. She whirled around to see him across the pasture,
sitting on Kona, watching.

Without even asking, she knew from things he'd said in the past why he was correcting her so firmly. Hoku was treating her as if she were another horse. That wouldn't lead in the direction they needed to go for training. They could be friends, but Darby had to be the one in charge.

“No,” she told Hoku, hoping to sound firm, but not harsh. “Don't push me.”

Hoku stared back, her brown eyes glittering with confusion. She whinnied nervously, champing her jaws.

“Be nice,” Darby said mildly. She reached into her pocket, about to offer a handful of berries, but she was too slow.

Hoku had already whirled around, angrily offering her rear view.

Darby longed to soothe her horse's wounded pride with kind words, stroke her neck, and hand-feed her, but she was too aware of Jonah's watchful eyes.

He wouldn't approve of her kissing up to her own horse, and no matter how much she hated it, he was right.

As she walked away, Darby heard Hoku begin pacing, puffing with agitated breaths.
Please follow me,
Darby thought with silent desperation.

But the sound of Hoku's movements became more distant, and with a sinking heart Darby realized Hoku was not only
not
following her, but putting
distance between them.

Darby continued walking in Jonah's direction for almost two minutes before she couldn't stand it any longer and sneaked a quick peek over her shoulder.

Two minutes must have been as long as either of them could stand, because when she glanced back, she caught Hoku looking over her own shoulder. Their eyes met, and then they both turned away.

Darby couldn't help it: She heard hoofbeats and, once more, with her heart aching, she turned back again, longing to see Hoku running toward her.

But the sorrel mustang was running in the opposite direction, away from her and toward the herd of tame horses, where she knew exactly who she was and how to act.