Rain Forest Rose (7 page)

“Thrifty?” Darby asked.

“Pani said when they were sharing the bunkhouse, before Ben married Cathy, the biggest fight they ever got in was Pani refusing to wash plastic wrap and reuse it.”

Normally Darby would have laughed, but Cade didn't. He just swept his hat off and looked steadily at its woven crown.

Now that she had him talking, Darby wanted Cade to stop. She could tell the memories hurt him.

“Yeah,” Cade said, finally. “Ben was nice to me, and yoking the cattle together worked better even than we figured. Other cattle had come crowdin' around here”—Cade gestured at the clearing—“waiting for us to bring 'em food.

“What happened is, we were taking 'em up, hadn't reached the lava rock yet, and there were pigs on the path. How could I not know that it's always open season on pigs?” Cade sighed. “Anyway, the cattle would have walked on by, but a piglet got separated from its family and started squealing. The sow answered. The boar charged Tango.”

The sounds rang in Darby's imagination. Pigs squealing. Men shouting. A horse screaming.

“Tango was broke, but still green. Ben sweet-talked her in Hawaiian—sounded like singing—but the boar ran right between her front legs and she reared. She went over backward on Ben.” Cade's hand fisted, turning the rest of his cookie into a shower of crumbs.

Darby sat motionless, waiting for Cade to go on. When he did, she had to lean forward to hear his voice.

“He told me to go after Tango.” Cade looked over his shoulder as if watching his younger self gallop into the forest after the terrified mare. “Must've been fifteen, twenty minutes before it hit me. Something wasn't right.”

Cade gave a dry laugh and slapped the stock of his rifle. “Yeah.
Something
. I came back and Ben'd already, you know, passed over.”

Darby tried to see the scene with Megan's eyes. Cade left Ben Kato alone and dying. But Cade wasn't to blame, Darby thought.

Ben Kato had been a paniolo. He'd told Cade to go after Tango, and Darby could absolutely imagine Jonah, Kit, or Cade himself putting the welfare of his injured horse above his own.

Hoku pawed in her corral.

“Fed your horse lately?” Cade asked.

“Not lately enough, according to her,” Darby said.

The joke was weak, but feeding Hoku would give Cade a few minutes alone. The dark red of his face said he needed them.

As she tossed hay to the delighted filly, Darby thought of Tango's scars. The rose roan had been gored under the belly and down her hind legs, but she'd survived. Tango must have learned lessons from her wild ancestors that had kept her alive, without human help.

“That's what Jonah wants for you,” Darby whispered to Hoku, but the filly wasn't taking anything seriously except the stalks of hay, which bristled from each side of her mouth like huge cat whiskers.

Cade blamed himself for more than Tango's escape, Darby realized, and all of a sudden, the way Cade had looked on the night he'd come back from searching for Hoku made sense.

Cade's face had been dirty and maybe even tear streaked. He'd looked as if everything depended on him finding Hoku.

That night, Darby hadn't understood why he'd
run Joker too hard, risking his own horse to catch hers.

Now she got it. His determination to find the filly had had nothing to do with her and Hoku, but everything to do with the way he'd failed before.

But Darby knew he was wrong. He hadn't failed. There was nothing he could have done to save Ben, but she wasn't good at stuff like this, talking to people about problems, so when she walked back into camp, she asked, “If a horse rears when you're riding it, what are you supposed to do?”

“Get on its neck,” Cade said slowly. “Put your weight forward.”

He was sifting his words, trying not to say anything that might make Ben look bad.

“Is that what Ben did?”

Cade stared at the camp lantern as he pumped it up. It brightened his face, so he couldn't hide his hard-set, misshapen jaw.

“He was a paniolo. He did what was right.”

“And you're a paniolo, too.”

“Not like him,” Cade said. He took one look at Darby's face, and stood to go.

“After a man is smashed by a horse, what could you do for him? What could he have done for you?” Darby blurted. It wasn't very tactful, but she had to get the words out before Cade left. “You said you were only gone for fifteen or twenty minutes. No one could have galloped to the ranch and back with help
in that time. And if you'd tried to get an ambulance in here”—Darby gestured toward volcanic rocks sharp as broken glass—“or even a helicopter…”

“You think I feel guilty about Ben's death?” Cade slanted the rifle over one shoulder like a fishing pole. “I don't.”

Oh, you do, too!
Darby barely kept herself from yelling at him. Instead she wound the end of her ponytail around her index finger so tightly, it began cutting off her circulation.

Cade put his hat back on and pulled it low on his brow, before he said, “I just lost Megan's horse, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, since there was no point arguing. She looked down at the black hair banding her finger and let it unwind.

No matter what Cade said, Darby knew he blamed himself, partly, for Ben Kato's death. And Megan's daily hostility wouldn't let Cade forget what had happened, either. But if things had happened the way Cade and Tutu had told her, why did Megan blame him?

“I'll take a look around for Tango before I ride back in.”

“It's almost dark,” she began, and when Cade shrugged, she added, “That's right, you can see in the dark.”

“Like a cat,” Cade admitted.

“Like an owl,” Darby put in, thinking of her
family guardian, the
pueo
.

The correction must have pleased him, because Cade's tone was almost cheerful when he answered, “If you say so.”

But then Darby remembered the pig she'd heard snuffling around last night.

“I think there are still pigs out here,” Darby said.

“Of course there are,” Cade said. “They're everywhere. They're wrecking Hawaii.”

“Could one have been at the stream? I saw tracks.”

“Sure, and it's nothing to worry about,” Cade said. “Things like what happened to Ben—they're really rare. Think of the size difference between a pig and a horse. Just steer clear of family groups, or pigs with rabies, and you'll be safe enough.”

“Rabies?”

Cade nodded. “Almost any warm-blooded animal can get rabies. Even horses.”

Chills claimed Darby's arms and she glanced toward Hoku.

“I guess I knew it wasn't just dogs,” Darby said slowly. “But where would a pig get rabies?”

“From a mongoose, maybe,” Cade suggested. “And some people say foxes escaped from ‘Iolani a long time ago.”

Darby thought of the clutter of gray cages near Hoku's home corral. Jonah had mentioned his father's ill-fated venture into the fox fur trade, but
Darby hadn't thought to ask what had become of the foxes.

“Rabies is, like, an inflammation of the brain, right?” Darby asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, it's spread by bites. Or, saliva, really. You can tell an animal's got it when it acts all nervous and excited. But that's not always easy.

“Once when I was with him, over by Mountain to the Sky, Jonah shot a mongoose he thought had it. Don't think I would have noticed. I always think of a mongoose as pretty excited, but he said it was uncoordinated, chewing on nothing and drooling.”

“Is that what horses do?” Darby asked, but part of her didn't really want to know.

“Yeah, but their back legs get paralyzed, too.”

Darby winced. “And it's fatal?”

“Always, if they don't get medicine right away,” Cade said. “But hey, the pig you saw wasn't—”

“I didn't exactly see it,” Darby told him, and when Cade rolled his eyes, she snapped, “Not everyone can see in the dark, Cade. But I did see its tracks. And I heard it banging around.”

“They're usually pretty quiet,” Cade told her.

When his hand moved on his rifle stock, Darby tried to shut up. She didn't want Cade to kill any animals because of her.

“Whatever it was, it didn't have rabies.” Darby crossed her arms once she'd decided. “Think about it, Cade. Rabies is called hydrophobia, right?” she
asked, but Cade just shrugged. “
Hydro
means ‘water' and
phobia
means ‘fear.' I know that much, and so anything with rabies would be afraid of water. And whatever I heard was sloshing around in the stream.”

She was totally making this up, thinking aloud as she went along, and she didn't mind sounding bookish.

“It's pigs' nature to make wallows, and roll in the mud to keep off bugs or stay cool,” Cade pointed out. “What animal's gonna let itself die of thirst with a stream right in front of it?”

“I'd give anything for a library right now,” Darby said yearningly.

Cade's tone was gruff, but amused as he said, “With a lost horse and slobbering hog on the loose, you want a library?” Cade shook his head. “One thing you're good for, Darby Carter, is a laugh.”

Darby deflected Cade's sarcasm with a smile. And when she thought of how she'd hoarded her chocolate, she didn't feel guilty at all.

T
he next morning Darby and Hoku walked into the rain forest. At their intrusion, birds and insects had hushed. With no other noise to mask their movements, each step sounded as if they were crashing heedlessly through the vegetation.

Finally, they stopped on a wooded slope, picking an almost level spot where they had a view of the stream where the pink mare came to drink.

Darby sat with her notebook while Hoku rubbed her neck against a nearby tree. A pudgy, watermelon-colored bird glided near enough to study them, then landed on a branch. Down below, a gold-winged bird landed near the water and fluttered, taking a bath. Then other birds called and insects hummed, as if the
forest had accepted them.

Unsettled by her conversation with Cade, Darby had stayed awake much of the night.

She'd been wrong about Cade. Ben had been riding Tango. Ben had ordered Cade to chase Tango, but after the first reflex obedience, he'd come back without Tango to help his mentor and Megan. It wasn't his fault that nothing could be done.

Tossing in the confinement of her sleeping bag, Darby had felt sick over her unwarranted suspicion.

If Megan wanted to be friends with Cade, she'd have to untangle their misunderstandings herself. Or go to Tutu.

Great-grandmothers, especially Darby's, had learned a thing or two about human nature, while Darby only knew about studying. And talking to horses. When she got them to talk back, then maybe she'd be a horse charmer.

I'm out of this,
she'd declared, deciding to give up amateur detecting. Only then had she tumbled into a sound sleep.

Now Darby sat in the shade-strained sunlight, doing something she knew she could do. Homework. Hoku raised her head from inspecting a path-side plant and snorted, but her ears pointed away from the bird bathing below.

“Don't try to distract me,” Darby said softly.

Jonah wanted her to list twenty-five things her horse did. As homework went, it was a piece of cake,
Darby thought. Working from memory, she started writing.

• 1. shivers skin
  
• 2. is picky about grass, so she carefully looks over what's there before taking bites
  
• 3. is not picky about hay, gulps whatever's close, even if she's walked on it
  
• 4. licks her lips, then sticks out her tongue
  

“I'm not sure why you do that,” Darby whispered.

Hoku's head came up again, ears pricked, but not toward Darby. The filly concentrated on the patch of the rain forest surrounding the old man lichen rock. By the trail.

Darby looked, listened, and heard nothing that sounded out of place.

Of course Hoku would be watchful, she thought; every sound here was new.

Darby returned to her list.

• 5. sees things that aren't there
  
• 6. paws dirt
  
• 7. shakes head
  
• 8. scratches neck on fence
  
• 9. swings head around and uses teeth to scratch her back
  
• 10. uses hind hoof to reach up and scratch her chin
  

That last gesture made the filly look like a foal. She was so cute that Darby had to force herself to keep writing.

• 11. like a little kid, Hoku checks to see if I'm paying attention
  
• 12. goes to the bathroom in the same place every time
  
• 13. neighs at…
  

Nothing? That's the word Darby had been about to write when she heard someone coming through the forest. Some
one
, for sure, not some
thing
. She hadn't noticed signs of the wild pig since the night before last. She was sorry she'd mentioned it to Cade, because he'd probably told Jonah about it.

Darby waited in silence, but no one came out of the forest.

Shrugging, she looked at her list and saw that she'd made it halfway through her homework. There'd been no sign of Tango, and the shade that had cooled her had been replaced by tropical brightness that made her squint at the notebook paper.

Standing up to stretch, Darby awarded herself a break.

“Let's take you back to your corral, pretty girl.”

Hoku yawned as if she'd been wakened, and followed as Darby led.

Quiet moments like this built as much trust as
brushing and blowing bubbles, Darby thought, and she wasn't going to throw away the progress she was making with her filly for the wild idea that had crept into her dreams last night.

She hadn't given up on the crazy project of mending Cade and Megan's friendship, only to take on a more insane and dangerous task.

She was
not
going to try to ride Hoku.

They'd reached the corral gate now. A trumpet-shaped flower on the vine winding around the fence bobbed against Darby's hand as she opened the gate. It might have been pecking her, saying, “liar, liar, liar.”

As Darby looked down at the flower, something else caught her attention. Black hair was snagged on the splintery bottom board of the gate.

For a moment, her heart pounded. There was a low spot in the dirt and some animal had squeezed underneath.

It was probably a wirehaired black dog, Darby told herself. Not a wild pig. Those little black hairs could have been there for years.

Hoku's snort jerked Darby's attention back. The filly stared at her so intently, Darby glanced over her shoulders, but there was nothing there.

“You ready to go back inside?” Darby asked, and Hoku all but let herself into the corral.

But even when Darby had closed and locked the gate, Hoku watched her, signaling with her ears
and eyes, as if she wanted to have an equine-human conversation.

I've been ridden before,
Hoku's dark eyes told Darby.

“Yeah, too young,” Darby said aloud. “It was a terrible experience. Like child abuse.”

Hoku swished her tail, then tossed her chin toward her hindquarters, chasing away Darby's response. Or a bee.

I was ridden by a cruel man. Not by you. Not by someone I trust.

“Uh-huh, but that's the thing. Will you still trust me if I try to ride you too early?” Darby asked her horse.

Hoku stepped closer to the fence and Darby caught a teasing look in the filly's eyes.
If I let you climb on, then change my mind, who cares?

“Good point,” Darby told Hoku. “If I get bucked off, hurt, and no one's here to help me, I'd better die, 'cause if I don't, Jonah will kill me.”

The filly trotted to the middle of the corral and stopped. As Hoku shook all over, her mane flipped from side to side, making an arc of light. Then she lowered herself to the ground and rolled.

Hoku felt so safe with Darby, she put herself in a vulnerable position—off all four hooves—in a strange place. Even as dust clouded her view of the forest, the horse was so relaxed, she groaned in pleasure, letting the ground massage her back.

Walk away from the corral,
Darby ordered herself.

She did, glancing guiltily at the trees ringing the clearing.

She'd had way too many visitors to think she wouldn't be caught, if she kept talking to Hoku as if the filly were human. Or if she tried to ride her.

If I get bucked off, I'd better die,
she'd just told Hoku.

Darby's cheeks heated in embarrassment, even though she was alone. How would that sound to anyone who knew of Ben Kato's fatal accident?

She'd better keep Ben's death in mind, Darby decided. If an expert horseman, a paniolo, could be killed in a riding accident, what could happen to her?

She'd think about that as she sat on the top fence rail of the corral.

Darby's boots had stopped walking. Hoku was a magnet, pulling her back to the corral. But she'd only watch her wild filly. And maybe finish her homework.

One thing was for sure: The filly's back was off-limits.

After a while, Darby could balance on the top rail of the fence, almost without thinking. It made her feel like a real cowgirl.

By noon, the sun stabbed through the canopy of leaves here, too, making Darby perspire. She squirmed as the tip of her ponytail tickled the damp nape of her neck. Balancing, she reached up and tightened it.

Hoku left her place across the corral and jogged straight to Darby so fast the sun struck rainbows on her golden coat.

“You're such a pretty girl,” Darby said as Hoku brushed against her knees, then stopped a few steps past her.

What brought her over here?
Darby wondered.

Her thoughts circled around an unlikely answer. To test the theory, Darby tightened her ponytail again.

Hoku backed up and turned her head to watch Darby.

Wow. Could Hoku be taking the movement as a signal to come close?

Darby was about to climb into the corral and try the gesture again, but Hoku trotted away. Darby tightened her ponytail. Here came Hoku again.

She wasn't imagining it. She might have blown a silent whistle only Hoku could hear.

This time the filly rubbed against Darby's leg more slowly, then trotted off, giving a little buck as if she liked this game.

For a fourth time, Darby tightened a ponytail already stinging her scalp from pulling her hair, and Hoku jumped her way, nuzzled Darby's leg, and slid her head under it.

Darby swallowed hard, as if that would stop her heart's pounding. Her ankle rested on the other side of Hoku's neck.

She didn't move. She barely breathed as she remembered her first sight of Hoku running on the snowy Nevada range. Then she recalled Hoku on the night she'd pranced and bucked before galloping into the Hawaiian darkness.

Hoku loved to run. Her wild heart told her she'd been born to do it. Yet Jonah insisted Hoku stay in small corrals. Hoku couldn't possibly know a rider was her passport out of confinement, could she?

But if I rode you, we could go running together,
Darby thought.
We could gallop as far and fast as you like, because if you're carrying me, I can remind you to go back home.

Darby looked at the gate. What if she started by riding inside the corral?

She'd just tighten her ponytail, slip onto Hoku's back, and ride in circles until she was certain they understood each other. What would be the harm in that?

Darby's fear dropped away as she and Hoku stared at each other. Trust went both ways. If Hoku trusted Darby to sit on her back, she would have to trust Hoku not to throw her.

Hoku lifted her head. A longing neigh drifted from her lips.

Yes!
Darby thought.
Do it!