Blind Fury (11 page)

She pulled herself up on the railing to get a better look inside the stall. Just as she thought, it was empty. “Did you turn Star out this morning? I thought we agreed it was too cold.”

“We did.” Colin peered over her shoulder. “Maybe Ryan let him out.”

“He better not have,” Kara fumed. “He knows better than to do something like that without supervision.”

Colin shrugged. “Well, no one else is here. I can't see Anne tromping out here in that cast.”

He was right. “I don't like this, Colin.” Kara said. “I can't believe Ryan would take him out.” She hopped down from the railing. “And listen to that storm!”

The pounding of rain on the barn's metal roof had turned staccato, fast and sharp as buckshot.

“Hail,” Colin said, “or sleet. Sounds like it's coming down pretty good. I hope that pony isn't out in this.”

“He has to be. He isn't here.” She quickly scanned the barn. It was fairly small, with three stalls, a tack room, and two small sections for hay and sawdust storage. A wide center aisle allowed them room to groom and saddle the horses.

She turned and went into the tack room. Colin stowed his saddle, then joined her at the window. From that vantage point they could see a good portion of the south pasture where Star was usually allowed to graze. The cattle were huddled in and around a large stand of trees, which was shelter enough during a normal rainstorm. Kara wondered if it was really enough for this weather. “I don't see him.”

“Neither do I, but he could be packed in there with the herd.”

Colin flipped a switch, and she heard a buzz as the heat lamp turned on. “If the temperature drops much more, we'll have to move all those critters to the shed.”

His shoulders drooped, and she knew he was as exhausted as she was—maybe more.

“We won't worry about that right now.”

“Right. We'd better find that dad-blamed pony.” He mopped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket and reached for a lead rope. “Why don't you go on up to the house and ask Ryan. I'll wade into the fray and see if Star is with the cattle.”

Kara felt torn. Lily and Dakota needed to be rubbed down and fed, but Star was older. If he was loose in this kind of weather it could be a matter of life and death.

She zipped her jacket and headed for the front of the barn. The sliding door scraped heavily along the grooves,
and she opened it only enough to squeeze through. One look at the driveway and she froze.

“Oh, no!”

“What is it?” Colin poked his head through the door.

She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach, and she didn't know whether to pray or run. “Look.” She pointed toward the house.

Sheriff Lassen's Land Rover was parked smack in the middle of the drive.

K
ARA
LOWERED
HER
HEAD
against the stinging sleet and sprinted for the house. She ran up the steps to the porch and nearly collided with Sheriff Lassen, who was just coming out the front door. “Hey there, little lady, slow down before you get hurt.” He took hold of her shoulders to steady her, then stepped aside and ushered her into the house, holding the door for Colin, who was right behind her.

Anne was sitting on the sofa, wiping her eyes with a tissue and talking on the phone.

When Kara caught her breath, she spun around to face the sheriff. “What's wrong?” She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. “It's Ryan, isn't it? Something's happened to him.”

Sheriff Lassen pushed back his hat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Now, Missy, don't get all heated up. The boy's probably holed up at a friend's house.” He nodded in Anne's direction. “Miz Lightfoot is making some calls. Meantime, my deputy and I will have a look around—he hasn't been gone all that long.”

Star
! She grabbed the sheriff's arm. “Ryan's pony isn't in his stall. He must have taken him.”

Colin had sunk down on the ottoman, holding his ribs. “Well, he didn't take the trail. We just came that way and didn't see any sign of him.”

His voice sounded raspy, and Wakara knew he was really hurting. “Yeah, but we were riding pretty hard. We could have missed something.”

Colin was shaking his head. “Not unless he's in the woods—trail's too narrow. The meadow and pasture were clear except for that bunch of cows.”

Kara shuddered. If Ryan and Star had somehow gotten mixed up with the cattle, he could have been trampled.

Colin must have read her mind. “He could be up a tree, or under one.” He stood and slapped his hat back on his head. “I'll go check it out.”

But the sheriff stopped him. “Boy, you look like something a coyote spit out. You'd better take a breather.” He glared at Wakara. “You too, Missy. Put on a pot of coffee, get yourselves warmed up, and let me do my job.” He stepped outside and closed the door firmly behind him.

Wakara stiffened. She hated it when anyone called her Missy, not to mention the fact that the sheriff was treating her like a child. But there wasn't time to worry about it. Where could Ryan have gone?

She glanced out the window. The hail had stopped, but the lawn, pasture, and even the gravel drive had disappeared under a sheet of white ice. The sky still hung heavy and dark as lead.

The sheriff had reached his patrol car and started the engine. She watched him drive down to the barn and let his deputy out of the car. The younger man slid through the narrow gap they'd left in the sliding door and appeared a few seconds later, picking his way through sleet-coated
mud and a sea of hoofprints that pocked the pasture like craters on the moon. Kara knew it would be slow going. The tree stand where the cattle huddled was at least a hundred yards away.

Anne hung up the phone. “He is not at Campbells', or Smiths'.” Her voice cracked. Kara turned from the window and joined her on the couch.

“What happened, Anne? How long has he been gone?” Anne shook her head. “After lunch, he went to gather apples. One hour later, he is gone.”

Kara frowned. “We know he took Star. He had to. That pony didn't get out by himself, but which direction did they go?”

“Not out the front,” Anne said. “I would have heard them.”

“And not on the back trail,” Colin repeated his earlier thought. “Star would have been right in front of us, headed for the barn.”

Colin was right. If Star had smelled the storm and heard the wind, he'd have hightailed it home, rider or no rider. If Ryan had fallen, he could be anywhere, hurt and unconscious . . . She shook away the thought. Star hadn't turned up either. The two of them must still be together.
Or both of them are hurt
.

She couldn't dwell on that.

“Who have you called?” she asked Anne.

“Everyone. They all search.”

Wakara took hold of Anne's hand and squeezed it. “Then you've done all you can.” Anne must feel so frustrated. Because of her cast she couldn't even canvas the yard, let alone the neighborhood.

“We have to think. He's never ridden alone before. Where would a six-year-old go?”

“You think. I will pray.” Anne closed her eyes and raised her face to the ceiling.

Kara went back to the window. The deputy was no longer in sight, but cows were bellowing and scattering in all directions. The Land Rover was gone. Sheriff Lassen must have taken off on his own to search. The nearest neighbors were the Carlsons, and their ranch was a good five miles down the road. It would take hours, even days, to check out every ranch or homestead in the area.

He's not on the road
. She frowned at the thought
. If he wasn't on the road or the trail through the woods, or in the pasture where he would normally ride, where else could he be
?

“The footpath!” She must have screamed it, because Colin jumped and Anne's eyes flew open.

“What footpath?” Colin limped toward her and took her place at the window. She was halfway to the door.

“Anne,” she yelled back over her shoulder, “get Mr. Carlson on the phone. Tell him to send Dennis and Davie out to our path. They'll know what I mean.” She let the door slam.

“Wakara, wait!” The screen door squeaked, and Colin grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?” He turned her to face him and softened his voice. “Look, let the sheriff search, okay? He knows what he's doing. They'll find him.”

She pulled away. “They'll never look there.”

He stepped in front of her. “Where? For Pete's sake, slow down and at least tell me where you're going.”

She knew he was right. She needed to stop reacting and, as Dad would say, use her head. “There's another trail, just a footpath really, about a quarter mile long. When we were kids, the Carlson twins and I used it as a shortcut to each other's houses. If Ry took Star and rode out to the north side of the meadow, he could have mistaken it for a trail. It gets pretty narrow, but I think a pony could make it.”

Colin frowned. “A quarter mile? That doesn't make sense—Ryan's been gone since lunchtime. He'd have made it to the Carlsons' by now.”

“That's just it. Don't you see? If he did take that path, and the Carlsons haven't seen him, it means he didn't make it.” Visions of her little brother trapped or lying injured from a fall quickened her sense of urgency. She spun around and jumped off the porch.

“Wakara!” Anne's voice stopped her. “Mr. Carlson has found Star.”

The next half hour was a blur. Anne called the dispatcher to alert Sheriff Lassen and his men, while Colin grabbed the keys to Dad's Trooper and tossed them to Kara. “You drive. I'm too sore.”

Kara drove as fast as she could under these conditions. When she finally reached the Carlsons', the car skidded to a stop, just missing the pole that held the boys' basketball hoop.

Mrs. Carlson met them in the yard. “That pony's in the barn filling his belly with oats. The Mister went after the twins.” She pointed across a paddock to the small stand of woods that separated the two ranch properties.

“Oh, thank God, there they are! Looks like they found him,” Mrs. Carlson suddenly exclaimed.

The four of them came from the tree line, Dennis toting his ever present rifle, Davie with Star's saddle slung across his shoulder, and Mr. Carlson carrying Ryan as he would a baby in a front pack. The boy's arms and legs were latched so tightly around the older man's neck and waist that Kara had to pry him off.

“Is he all right?”

“Think so.” Mr. Carlson panted as he set Ryan down and bent over, hands on his knees, to catch his breath.

Ryan started to howl and buried his head in Kara's stomach. His clothes were wet clear through, and his hands felt like they were freezing. Before she had a chance to check him out, the sheriff's Land Rover pulled into the drive and squealed to a stop next to the Trooper.

“Doesn't look like he's hurt that bad,” Mr. Carlson yelled over Ryan's screams. “The boys found him walkin' down the path, dragging the saddle and kicking pinecones.” He chuckled. “Mad as a pestered hornet. Then he sees me comin' and puckers right up. Couldn't get a word out of him. Looks like cuts and bruises far as I can tell, but I'd get someone to check him over.”

Kara wanted to shake her little brother for all the trouble he had caused. Instead, she knelt down and held him. He was probably scared to death. She might as well let him cry it out. Mrs. Carlson wrapped a blanket around both of them, and after a few minutes the screaming stopped, but he clung to her and refused to budge.

“Ry, are you hurt?” From the force of his grip she didn't think anything was broken, but she knew that sometimes fear caused an injured person to do things they shouldn't logically be able to do. She'd read about a man who had climbed all the way down a mountain after a fall and driven home with a broken back.

She felt his legs and arms as best she could. “Ry, I can't help you if you don't cooperate. Let go and let me look.” She hated to be harsh with him if he was in pain, but they couldn't just sit here all day.

The sheriff knelt beside her and pressed his fingers to the pulse in Ryan's neck. “Hey, boy. You just relax now. We're gonna get you fixed up.” He caught Kara's eye and winked. “Medics are on the way.”

Ryan went still, then pushed back enough so they could see his face. “You called 911?” His eyes were wide beneath red
and swollen lids. Kara found a small cut on his forehead and another on his chin. They had both quit bleeding a while ago.

The sheriff nodded soberly. “Sure. When someone falls off their horse, we check to see if they busted something. That's the rule.”

Ryan stared at him. Kara couldn't tell if the look on his face was fear, pain, or anger. “I didn't fall. Stupid Star got spooked and ran me into a tree. I was hanging on good, but the saddle slipped and I had to bail out,” he looked at her, “you know, like you told me before. Stupid Star runned away. I heard that ole cougar in the bushes, so I climbed a tree.”