Castaway Colt (7 page)

“C
ade, of course.”

“Ohhh.” Darby drew the word out in understanding, because the nickname Owl Eyes made sense when Megan applied it to the young paniolo.

At first, Darby had thought Cade's reputation for being able to see in the dark had to be an exaggeration. But she'd reassessed her opinion last week.

Unlike her Southern California home, where stores, parking lots, athletic fields, and condominiums were illuminated by searchlights, neon, and incandescent lamps, Wild Horse Island had almost no outdoor lights.

When the sun went down, it got
dark
. And midnight in the rain forest was even darker, since the
canopy blocked out the starshine and moonlight, too.

And yet Cade had seen a suffering boar in that blackness, and killed it with a single, merciful shot.

Looking at Megan's impatient expression, Darby asked, “You think Jonah and your mom will let us stay out after dark looking for Stormbird if Cade comes with us?”

“Yes.” Megan sounded disgusted but sure. “It's not fair, but yes. Just let me handle it.”

Cade was good with horses, too, Darby thought. Only Hoku didn't like him, and that was not Cade's fault.

Darby's wild filly didn't like any men.

Since Cade could see in the dark and handle horses, and would probably be willing to help them search the island's southern shore, why did Megan's idea make her uneasy?

Darby couldn't come up with any answer better than selfishness.

When she'd first set eyes on Stormbird, she'd thought,
Don't let him belong to anyone else
.

“It's too bad we'll have to divvy up the money,” Megan said, misinterpreting Darby's silence, “but one third of something is better than half of nothing, right?”

“Absolutely! It's a good idea,” Darby said, and she didn't have to explain further, because Aunty Cathy called them to dinner.

“Come on, girls. Don't let your fish tacos get soggy.”

“Fish tacos?” Darby considered herself an adventurous eater, but she felt a bit doubtful.

“They're great,” Megan promised on her way out the apartment door. “Mom fries mahimahi, then makes this fruit salsa. It's not spicy. It has mangos and papaya chopped up, and lime squeezed over it or something. Yum.”

Megan rolled her eyes in anticipation, then hurried down the stairs with Darby on her heels.

But then Darby realized what bothered her about Megan's plan, and she stopped.

“You don't suppose,” Darby said, trying to sound casual when Megan looked back, “that Cade's whole seeing-in-the-dark thing is hereditary, do you?”

Darby's memory replayed Manny, stepping silently onto the path in front of her, Cade, and Megan as they'd ridden out of Crimson Vale a couple of weeks ago.

Through three long heartbeats, Darby waited, but then Megan gave an understanding smile.

“Manny is Cade's
step
father, remember?”

Darby gave a self-deprecating moan. “Sure I do. Now.”

How could she have forgotten? Cade and Manny weren't related by blood. Of course they couldn't both see in the dark.

Darby felt so relieved, she wasn't even embarrassed. She hurried down the white iron steps and caught up with Megan.

Suddenly, fish tacos sounded like they might be worth a try.

 

Neither Megan nor Aunty Cathy mentioned the swelling over Jonah's eye, and since Darby was pretty sure he'd struck his forehead on the underside of the truck when he'd been talking with Babe on the telephone, she didn't, either.

He'd been so angered by his sister's proposal that ‘Iolani Ranch host tourist rides, Jonah had forgotten where he was.

So Darby was surprised when Cathy brought the subject up all over again.

“What if we only had guest rides two or three days a week?” Aunty Cathy suggested. “Maybe just on weekends?”

“I'm shorthanded as it is,” Jonah said.

“Guest rides?” Megan paused with a taco halfway to her mouth.

“My sister plans to level her stable and replace it with a ‘state-of-the-art' gym….”

“I'm pretty sure that's Phillipe's idea,” Aunty Cathy put in, referring to Babe's polo-player husband.

“And have me babysit her guests who want to ride,” Jonah finished.

Megan leaned back in her chair. She'd only mulled over the idea for a few seconds when she observed, “Some of those riders would probably be cool guys.”

Aunty Cathy sighed, Darby blushed, and Jonah said, “See? Is that what you want?”

“I was joking,” Megan told them all, but Darby still wished Megan hadn't said that.

Darby took a bite of rice, taco, and fruit salsa, then started over again with robotic slowness.

Part of her wanted the ranch to stay exactly as it was now. But Jonah worried about money a lot.

And now, if she supported the idea of the ranch earning extra funds with tourist rides, Jonah might believe she was thinking the same thing as Megan.

“Mom has a background in tourism,” Megan told Jonah. “She'd make things run right. She wouldn't let it be tacky.”

“Thanks, honey,” Aunty Cathy said, and when Jonah didn't respond to Megan's support, Aunty Cathy added, “He knows, but we'll talk about it later.”

“She offered me her cremellos,” Jonah said. “She says they'd make the start of a good dude string. What makes her think I want those watery-eyed weaklings on the place?”

Darby shook her head in disbelief. The colt she'd seen hadn't been a weakling. Sure-footed over lava spikes and daredevilish with Navigator, he seemed at home in this wild and varied country.

And Flight, the colt's mother, had looked lean and muscular on TV—a beautiful horse, but one that earned her feed, Darby thought. Even as the words
flowed through her mind, she realized how much her ideas about horses had changed since she'd come to the ranch.

Darby promised herself she'd correct Jonah's impressions of cremellos later, but she'd just realized she could change the subject to something no one would fight over.

“So, I had my first day of Hawaiian school,” Darby announced.

Smile lines crinkled around Jonah's eyes.

“And what did you think, Granddaughter?”

“It was great,” Darby said. “I'm not behind or ahead of my mainland classes. I'm pretty sure I'll do okay on my homework. Tonight's, anyway.”

“Of course, Duxelles was a jerk to her.”

Megan!
Darby yelled silently.

“What kind of jerk?” Aunty Cathy asked, but her daughter had already caught Darby's wide-eyed stare.

“You know,” Megan said vaguely. “Just a jerk.”

Jonah and Aunty Cathy turned to Darby. She couldn't let them think she'd made an enemy of her cousin already.

“I had to call roll in P.E. and I mispronounced her name,” Darby said.

“Not Borden,” Megan said, then sucked in a breath and only went on to say, “Sorry.”

Darby tried not to sound silly as she added, “I have the same teacher for P.E. and English. Her
name is Miss Day, and—”

“Your cousin is one big strapping girl,” Jonah observed.

“You make her sound like a horse,” Cathy scolded.

“No offense to horses,” Megan put in.

“Megan! Duxelles is…” Aunty Cathy hesitated, tucking her blond-brown hair behind her ears. “Well, she's…”

Jonah chewed meditatively, swallowed, then nodded at Darby and said, “You'll take care of yourself.”

“Yep,” Darby assured him, though it was possible Jonah's confidence in her was undeserved.

“Just remember,” her grandfather said, pointing the tines of his fork at her,
“the smallest flea can make a big body squirm.”

Instantly a grin claimed Darby's face.

“Is that a Hawaiian proverb?”

“Just an old saying,” Jonah answered.

“I love it,” Darby said.

She wasn't tiny, but she'd always been kind of frail, and the image of a feisty flea making the Viking girl dance with discomfort delighted Darby.

Still smiling, Darby glanced at Aunty Cathy for her reaction and discovered she still looked thoughtful, searching for something nice to say about Duxelles.

Darby folded her napkin and set it on the table.

The sooner she finished her homework, the sooner she could go to bed. The sooner she got to school in the morning, the sooner she could catch Stormbird!

Still, she wondered: Was it significant that even Aunty Cathy couldn't think of one nice thing to say about Duxelles Borden?

 

Darby was almost asleep when the kitchen phone rang.

Megan and Aunty Cathy were in their upstairs apartment. Jonah was in his library under the stairs.

A glance at her bedside clock told Darby it was ten o'clock. Not the middle of the night, she thought, but what if it was her mother?

She heard Jonah muttering as he climbed out of his hideaway and into the living room. Then Darby caught the sounds of his feet padding into the kitchen.

The phone was still ringing.

“Yeah,” he said, leaving no question it was too late to be calling.

In the quiet, Darby heard a floorboard creak overhead.

Jonah wouldn't make her wait until tomorrow to find out what her mother had to say, would he?

“Yeah,” Jonah repeated. “I'll get him.”

The front door opened and Jonah left.

Him,
Darby's thoughts raced. Kimo was gone, so
the call must be for Cade or Kit. If it was news for Kit, it was coming in the middle of the Nevada night. That couldn't be good.

Outside, one of the dogs gave a sound that was half bark, half howl.

It seemed like forever before footsteps returned.

Darby strained her ears to listen.

“I'm going to bed.” Jonah's voice boomed through the quiet house, but his last words were harder to hear. “Take your time.”

Jonah's footsteps paused outside Darby's room. She didn't move a finger or toe. He kept walking.

Finally she heard Cade's voice.

“Mom?”

There was something so childish in his voice, it hurt Darby to hear it.

But the gentle tone vanished after he'd listened for a minute or so.

“Yeah,” he snapped. “Yeah, I know.” Cade's tone had turned surly. Was he still talking to his mother?

“Why should I ever put
any
horse in your hands again? Let alone a foal.” Cade fell silent and didn't speak for what seemed like a long time.

“You don't scare me,” he said finally, but after he slammed the phone down, he said something softly. It sounded like, “Aw, no,” but Darby wasn't even sure the words were English.

Cade's boots strode partway down the hall toward Jonah's room, then stopped.

He turned back toward the front door and stopped again.

Darby was about to go ask Cade if he needed her help, when there was a fleshy sound, as if Cade had punched his fist into his other palm.

Darby heard nothing else until the door closed softly behind him. Through her window came the sound of boots crossing the ranch yard.

Had Cade's mother asked him to bring her Stormbird?

The more Darby tried to make sense of the half-conversation, Cade's anger, and his hesitation in going to Jonah for help, the more confused she felt.

I
n her rush to get ready for school the next morning, Darby forgot about Cade's phone call.

Why did I spend so much time feeding Hoku and playing with Francie?
Darby asked herself as she brushed hay off her light blue shirt, then pulled her hair into her usual ponytail.

She only remembered Cade's late-night caller and his words about a foal when she and Megan stood fidgeting in front of Sun House, waiting for Kimo to show up and drive them to school.

“He's always late,” Megan grumbled. “We would have a better chance of being on time if we saddled up and rode to school.”

Since Jonah's truck was out of commission, they
had no other choice, but both girls stared at the road as if concentration would make the maroon truck materialize.

“What if we walk out to the highway?” Darby asked. “Or at least as far as the gate?”

“Good idea,” Megan said. “From the cattle guard gate to here is half a mile. I used to jog it.”

Together they settled their backpacks more firmly on their shoulders and began walking.

“At least I took care of our search party problem,” Megan told Darby when they were about halfway to the street.

“You did?”

“Yeah, I talked to Mom last night and she said she'd handle Jonah, but—didn't you hear me talking to Cade?”

Darby shook her head, but Cade's voice saying
Mom?
and
You don't scare me
came back to her.

Cade had been talking with his mother, and they'd fought. But it hadn't been a normal parent-kid spat. It sounded like an old, cold fight, and it had involved horses.

“Don't frown,” Megan said. “Cade said he'd go with us the minute we got home. He seemed…”

“What?” Darby demanded.

“Usually he's so laid-back, but he actually seemed eager to go tonight,” Megan said. And then she shrugged, but Darby wondered if Cade wanted to catch the colt before his parents did.

 

Darby checked the room number for her English class, caught the door before it closed, and slipped inside. She glanced around for her desk, saw Ann pointing to it, and managed to take her seat a minute before the tardy bell.

Ann gave her a thumbs-up as Miss Day entered the room.

Darby fanned her face with one hand while she dug for her homework with the other.

Racing in that close to the bell was embarrassing. She didn't want her teacher to think she was always behind.

But Miss Day seemed pleased when Darby turned in her writing sample. And later, Darby managed to make a good point in history class when her teacher called on her.

She didn't even stare when her cousin repeated yesterday's milk-chugging exhibition during Nutrition Break, because she and Ann were talking about horses.

“We train therapy horses,” Ann was explaining.

Darby heard a note of pride in the girl's voice that hadn't been there when they talked about soccer or school.

“For kids with disabilities, or personal problems?” Darby asked, thinking of the HARP program Sam Forster had told her about.

“Kids or adults who need horses,” Ann said. “We
keep it vague on purpose so we just have to be picky about the horses, not people who get them. We mostly use rescue horses—any age, any breed—with ‘kind eyes.' That's how my parents decide whether to take them in.”

“Is that what you guys did in Nevada, too?” Darby asked.

She couldn't think of a much better profession than helping horses and people at the same time.

“No, we raised cattle—
went broke
raising cattle, according to my dad. It was half my grandpa's ranch.
He
made the mistake of selling Shan Stonecrow a horse, too,” Ann reminded Darby of Hoku's last owner. “Anyway, when we left Nevada, my parents were so burned out, they thought they'd never want another ranch.

“But being full-time tourists didn't last long, and with the money they got from our old place—which Toby, my little brother, and I didn't approve of selling, by the way—they bought a house and a little spread and we started training horses.”

“That is so cool,” Darby said.

 

The rest of the morning went smoothly, and Darby felt satisfied with her second day of school. At first.

It was only when she was on her way to P.E., without Ann, that Darby realized she'd somehow ended up trailing behind her cousin and her friends, just like she had yesterday.

Darby hung back, hoping for invisibility.

When they reached P.E., she'd have to stand right beside the big girl, again.

Darby told herself not to be intimidated. If she really was the feisty flea that could make a big body squirm, she'd use yesterday's roll call mistake and call her cousin not
Dew shell
, but Duckie.

She dropped back a few steps, resolving to do just that, but only in the privacy of her mind.

Darby's determination to remain unnoticed worked until she heard a word she couldn't ignore.

“All Babe cares about is finding that
horse
,” Duckie scoffed.

Stormbird! Her cousin must be talking about the lost white colt.

Darby closed the space between them with a few long steps.

“She should never have offered a reward,” Duckie went on. “I mean, all these strange people are calling and showing up like bats out of a belfry.”

It took Darby a second to realize what her cousin meant. Wasn't the expression,
Bats
in
your belfry
? Meaning you were crazy?

She shrugged to herself. So what if Duckie got the phrase wrong? Darby decided she couldn't very well blame Duckie for that, when she often did something similar. She sometimes mispronounced words that she'd read but never heard.

And now one of the girls walking ahead was
asking about Yawn.
Jan,
Darby corrected herself.

It wasn't easy to tell from the back, but Darby thought she remembered calling that girl's name yesterday.
Selena.
Darby thought it was because the girl appeared as dark and sleek as a seal.

“I'd love it if we could all hang around together….”

“No, you wouldn't,” Duckie told her. “Since he started college, Jan's so stuck-up. Really, he's always telling me that I don't care about the right things. Humpf,” she said in disgust. “If that's not the pot calling the kitten black, I don't know what is!”

This time, Duckie's verbal mix-up was funnier.

Darby didn't realize she'd giggled out loud until the Viking whirled around.

“What's so funny?” Duckie demanded.

Darby swallowed with difficulty. Angry, her cousin looked even bigger—monstrous, even. Darby knew she couldn't stand up to her. Though Darby almost never played dumb, this time it meant survival.

“Nothing! Oh, my gosh! Did I walk right past A Building?” Darby squeaked. “I'm trying to find my history class and I don't know if I'm going the right way.” Darby pretended to study her schedule.

“You don't have history now,” Duckie said before turning to Selena. “How do you like this? I know her schedule better than she does!”

The other girls tittered with laughter.

“You have P.E., remember?” Selena reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” Darby crowed as if the realization had just struck her.

Another of Duckie's friends, a girl with professionally streaked hair, leaned back with her arms crossed, raised one eyebrow, and stared toward Darby's feet. “Nice boots.”

Darby ignored the sarcasm as Duckie's group crowded into the gym ahead of her.

Megan was dressed and just tying her shoes when she looked up at Darby.

“Hi!” Darby said.

“Hi.” Megan sounded startled by Darby's enthusiasm. “You look like you're about to throw yourself into my arms.”

“I'm glad to see a friendly face,” Darby admitted as she opened her locker and changed clothes.

Megan didn't bother asking what had brought on that remark, because Duckie leaned around the bank of lockers and jerked her thumb toward Darby to say, “Tell your friend we don't wear cowboy boots to school.”

Megan ignored the big girl and sat down on a nearby bench. Letting her hands dangle between her knees, Megan faced Darby and said, “Remember that thing Jonah said last night?”

“About a flea making an elephant squirm?” Darby asked.

“Something like that,” Megan said with a laugh.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Darby said, but before she could ask Megan for suggestions, she was off with her soccer friends, leaving Darby behind.

Since staying invisible didn't seem to be working for her, Darby cast around in her brain for another strategy to make herself a less amusing victim.

I'll kill you with kindness,
Darby thought the minute she saw Duckie heading her way.

“I love your earrings! What are they?” Darby asked, even though she recognized them as black pearls.

“They're none of your business, “Duckie said, reaching up to touch one of her earrings.

“Duxelles, why don't you put those in your locker? You don't want to lose one while you're playing volleyball.”

Both girls turned to see Miss Day striding toward them, on her way outside.

“Thanks, Coach Day,” Duckie said sweetly, “but I'll be careful.”

“Do it now, please,” Miss Day told her.

“Yes, Coach Day,” Duckie said, but as soon as the teacher had passed, Duckie shot Darby a glare.

Darby pretended interest in her stubby fingernails and kept walking as the big girl started back to the locker room.

Outside, Darby rushed to take her place on the blacktop, but she needn't have hurried. It was clear that Coach Roffmore wouldn't take roll until his
favorite student showed up.

Darby was dreading Duckie's return when she noticed Coach Roffmore looking right at her.

It was such a direct and positive look that Darby glanced over her shoulder in surprise. But the coach was talking to her.

“Carter. Your transfer papers say you're a swimmer.”

All at once, Darby realized he was sizing her up as an addition to his team.

“I used to be,” Darby said.

There was no point in joining a team when she might not be at this school long enough to compete. Besides, Megan had told her Duckie was on the swim team. The prospect of swimming with Duckie and her friends was about as appealing as joining a school of sharks.

Darby kept her eyes forward, pretending not to notice Duckie jostling into line.

When Selena giggled behind her, Darby turned around to see what was so funny.

“All eyes on me,” the coach snapped, but Darby couldn't help glancing down the line to see if Megan had noticed anything.

Duckie was quick, but out of the corner of her eye, Darby saw her arm drop back to her side. Duckie faced forward with military straightness, but her lips smirked.

“Knock it off,” Darby whispered.

“I bet I could,” Duckie said, squinting at Darby's head.

Darby couldn't let the big girl get away with bullying her.

“All eyes on me!” Coach Roffmore shouted when Darby kept staring at the big girl.

Darby took a deep breath, then appealed to the coach. “Did you see what she did?”

“I'm gonna see you running laps if you don't stop disrupting my class, Carter.”

“Yeah, Cowgirl Carter,” Selena sneered from behind her.

Darby's cheeks burned at the unfairness, and she knew Selena wasn't the only one staring at her.

Megan leaned forward in line to catch Darby's eye, but her frown didn't offer any advice.

“I didn't figure you for a troublemaker,” the coach added.

It was his faint disappointment that got to her.

“I'm sorry,” Darby apologized, but as the coach continued calling roll, Darby's eyes slid sideways.

Watching her cousin, Darby tried to come up with another way this flea could make the Viking tyrannosaurus squirm.

She hadn't come up with a single idea when Duckie yanked Darby's ponytail and it came loose from its holder.

The surprise on the big girl's face probably meant she hadn't planned to jerk the ponytail that hard, but
Darby didn't care what her cousin had
meant
to do.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Duckie!” Darby roared.

She heard a shocked whoop of approval that might have been Megan. A female voice muttered, “Right on,” and a short-lived spate of clapping ended when the coach tweeted his whistle.

“That's it.” Coach Roffmore pointed at the track. “Give me a mile.”

“Two laps,” Coach Day corrected, saying something behind her clipboard to Coach Roffmore.

“Gimme two,” he agreed.

And Darby did.