The Shining Stallion (5 page)

“Hey, Lady Wong, how's your pretty Black Cat baby?” Darby called. Talking to the horses helped Darby remember their names. “Blue Ginger and Koko, are you girls keeping the flies off each other?”

She smooched at the roan and the fudge bay with the silver mane as the two mares stood head to tail. Clearly the strange stallion wasn't among the mares and foals, and none of them was missing.

Darby guessed she was being paranoid to think that the stallion had come after Hoku, but she'd seen his hoofprints with her own eyes, just yards from her filly's fence.

A raindrop fell, sat trembling and transparent on the back of the hand holding her saddle horn, and then trickled off as another drop hit her hair and pattering began all around her.

The scattered drops became a shower.

“Home or under cover?” Darby asked Navigator, but there was no question that the gelding was headed toward the forest on the other side of Pearl Pasture.

That's where she'd met up with Jonah when she was bringing Hoku home. And if she were a wild horse, that's where she'd hide.

She thought like a horse, imagining fern fronds tickling her flanks as she backed into the foliage. She'd stand still, letting her body blend in with her surroundings. She'd draw shallow breaths, but flare her nostrils to take in the approach of scent-blind humans.

And if she were a stallion, the side-by-side trees would hide her from Luna. She'd peer past a curtain of vines to spy on the beautiful broodmares.

But she wasn't a horse. She was a rider.

Darby straightened in the saddle, and as she rode Navigator downhill, his strides lengthened.

“Slow down, boy,” Darby said, shortening her reins, but he didn't seem to notice.

Looking at the fence ahead, Darby was pretty sure she could manage to climb off Navigator, open and close the gate, then use the fence as a mounting block to get back on him.

Navigator must have felt her decision, because he stepped out of a long walk, into a trot.

“Whoa,” she told him, closing her right hand over the reins, too.

She didn't want to jerk at his mouth, but the gelding ignored her and burst into a swinging lope. Was he taking her after the invading stallion? Or was he taking advantage of her hesitation?

Exhilaration mixed with worry as the mares and foals joined the friendly stampede. Blue Ginger and Lady Wong loped alongside them. Black Cat zigzagged around the adult horses to gallop on ahead.

Even if Navigator knows what he's doing, I don't,
Darby thought. She tightened the reins as the white wooden fence grew bigger and closer, and Navigator's strides shortened.

I really am learning to ride,
Darby thought. Just a few days ago, she and Navigator had stalled out here, because she didn't know how to tell him how to back or turn away from the fence.
I'm getting the hang of it.

She held her head higher, pressed her shoulders back, and took a breath deep enough to lift her rib cage.

Darby was grinning when, in some involuntary celebration of their own, her heels jarred against Navigator's ribs.

The Quarter Horse broke into a run.

G
ently, Darby pulled with her right hand, then her left, but Navigator paid no attention. In fact, her fingers felt the horse set his mouth more firmly against the bit.

Could such a big horse move on tiptoe? He seemed to be doing just that, head high and ears pricked to a beckoning song only he heard.

The white fence loomed closer and closer. At this speed, she didn't dare do anything wrong. Navigator could fall.

And then he stopped.

The small of Darby's back slammed against the saddle cantle.

Had Navigator been bluffing?

“That's enough,” she told him sternly.

The horse always heard through the harshness to affection, but she managed to persuade him to slide parallel to the fence and he finally came close to the gate.

Darby stretched her arm far enough that her fingers grazed the bolt, then gripped and slid it. Yes! She'd opened the lock from the saddle.

Her celebration lasted until Navigator pulled at the bit, lifted his nostrils skyward, then headed away from the gate so she couldn't swing it open and ride through.

Darby backed the brown horse. She nudged him with her heels. She turned his head this way and that, but Navigator never put her in a position that worked.

Gritting her teeth, Darby wanted to abandon the task, but she couldn't. If she left the gate open, the mares and foals could slip through, into the rain forest. They might even wander as far as Crimson Vale. Whether she rode through it or not, the gate had to be bolted closed.

Darby dismounted, swung the gate open, and led Navigator through, before dropping the reins to ground-tie him as she'd seen the cowboys do.

Almost done,
she said to herself, sighing, and then bolted the gate.

They'd ride a little way into the rain forest, Darby decided. Not because she wanted to be surprised by
the horse that had charged out from under the candlenut tree with the power of a locomotive, but because she wasn't eager to come back and fight with this gate again.

She turned back to Navigator and saw he'd taken a few steps away from her.

Don't let him hear panic in your voice
.

“Why didn't I keep a death grip on your reins?” Darby chirped. “I'm a dummy, right, 'Gator?”

If the sugary tone was working on the horse, why had he taken another step in the opposite direction? But she didn't give up.

“Hey, boy,” she continued sweetly as the horse took another stride, “if you think you're going to strand me out here, you are out of your equine mind.”

Navigator broke into a trot, heading away from her.

Oh, no!
Her first instinct was to chase him, but after two steps she stopped. He'd just run away from her.

“Navigator,” she called. “Come here, good 'Gator.”

He slowed and dropped his head to graze. His flattened ears told her he wouldn't come back.

You can do the walking,
his snort said, but finally Navigator let her grab a rein.

“Good boy,” she said, giving it a cheerful swing like a jump rope.

What did you call that, when you just held the rope low to the ground and swung it gently back and forth?

Darby hadn't jumped rope since she was in
second grade, but the memory made her smile. And then it gave her an idea. She swung the rein up and over, let it graze the ground, then started up again.

Navigator jerked back, feigning alarm, then sighed. Of course,
he
wasn't head-shy.

But Navigator was tired of her nonsense. He blew another patient breath through his rust-colored lips.

“You're right,” Darby said, ashamed. “It's time to go back. If you showed me any clues, I'm too dense to recognize them.”

Why had Navigator wandered away from her? Because she'd insulted him by treating him like he was her babysitter?

“I'm sorry,” she said, “but could you just come with me over to the fence so that I can use it as a mounting block?”

Navigator braced his legs, refusing to stir one hoof toward the fence.

“Please?” Darby pulled on the reins until she was afraid she'd drag the bit out of his mouth.

The Quarter Horse was strong. He could probably tug a truck out of a ditch.

It's going to take more than an apology to make Navigator forgive me,
Darby thought as Jonah's story about Mary's bracelet box wormed its way back into her mind.

“I know how to make amends,” Darby said gloomily. “Let me get back on and you won't be sorry. I might regret it.” Darby grunted as she lifted her left
boot with both hands and got it into the stirrup. “But you'll be happy as a lark.”

Darby bounced up and slung her leg all the way over Navigator's back. She swallowed hard and held the reins. She could do this.

“Not only will you get double carrots tonight, but you can jump back over that fence.”

The horse had tried to jump with her twice. He must enjoy it.

Navigator's gleaming coffee-brown head swung around to nudge her boot.

“Yep, that's what I said. I don't care what I look like doing it, because no one's watching.” She glanced around just to make sure. She saw only horses.

She trotted Navigator back toward the rain forest. When she had what she hoped was a long running start, she turned him to face the fence. She wondered if your heart could make your breastbone rattle.

Darby tapped his sides with her heels.

Navigator moved forward, but his trot was hesitant, questioning.

Are you sure about this?
his gait asked.

“Let's go!” she yelled, clapping her boots against him again, and he burst into a powerful lope.

Darby held her breath as the gelding gathered himself.

Navigator's dark head rose, blotting out everything in front of Darby.

Mane brushed her face. His forelegs lifted. She was tilting back, fingers cramped around the reins and saddle horn.

Then Darby and the brown horse were airborne. Grace and excitement changed them into creatures of the sky and for one endless moment, Darby laughed out loud.

Then balance urged her to clutch Navigator's neck in a stranglehold.

Navigator did his part, landing with a mere click of hooves on the other side, as if the jump had been just an extralong stride, but Darby was still clutching Navigator's neck with both arms as he settled, then shook like a wet dog.

“You're pretty pleased with yourself,” Darby said. It wasn't a question. She was no expert, but she could feel the horse's exhilaration.

She'd read that jumping was an act in which the rider threw her heart over the obstacle and the horse leaped in pursuit of it.

“Not this time,” Darby said, slowly straightening in the saddle. “You threw your heart over, but I was just hoping for self-preservation.”

 

Darby let Navigator trot up the hill toward Sun House. She bounced a lot, but Navigator moved with such rollicking pleasure, she couldn't tell him no.

She knew Jonah wouldn't approve.

Just as Navigator crested the hill, Auntie Cathy
drove down the ranch road with Megan in the passenger's seat of the silver Honda. School must be over for the day, Darby thought as the car passed her. Singing along to the radio with the windows open, the two didn't even notice Darby.

For a second, Darby missed her mother, but then she grabbed her opportunity. Megan was happy. Her good mood might make her more willing to accept an apology.

Still singing, Megan swung out of the car.

Her cherry Coke–colored hair shone, though wisps were sweat-stuck to her temples. She wore baggy shorts and a grass-stained jersey. The gym bag slung over her shoulder was unzipped and bulging with a black-and-white soccer ball and shin guards. Despite all that, Megan made her soccer uniform look like high fashion.

But she wasn't a snob, Darby thought.

She and Megan had been on the brink of friendship when Darby had messed things up. She'd ditched Megan, leaving her to ride home and explain Darby's insane, over-the-cliff pursuit of her horse. Megan had missed a game that day, and her team had lost without her.

Dangling her cleats by their laces, Megan was striding toward the house when she noticed Navigator. And Darby.

Now,
Darby thought.
Apologize. Just don't sound like a wimp
.

Megan was right in front of her, eyebrows raised as she waited for Darby to say something.

Auntie Cathy hurried ahead of her daughter into the house, giving them some privacy. With a shrug, Megan started to follow.

Darby gave Navigator a heel thump that sent him a little too close to the other girl.

He stopped on his own as Darby blurted, “Megan, I know I said it before, but I'm really sorry for what I did the other day.”

Megan sighed. “Don't act like it's such a big deal.”

“Well, it is,” Darby insisted.

“Not to me,” Megan said.

Darby's stomach rolled, as if Megan's indifference had truly made her sick.

Could Megan just be pretending she didn't care?

“I could make brownies or chocolate chip cookies for your team, since I was responsible for you not being there and them losing,” Darby suggested.

“Yeah. That would be great,” Megan said.

“How else can I make it up to you?” Darby asked, but Megan just hitched her soccer bag higher on her shoulder and looked embarrassed. “I'm taking care of Francie the goat, so that you don't have to do it.”

“Fine. Whatever. I mean, that will give me a few more minutes to get ready in the morning,” Megan said. “But doing stuff for me is so not the point.”

Asking what
was
the point would make her sound like an even worse loser, Darby thought. Making
amends wasn't as easy as it sounded.

Megan gave up waiting for an intelligent reply and sprinted up the steps to her apartment.

I've messed up again,
Darby thought. Her hands shook so much that Navigator's head swung around to see what was wrong. She'd actually forgotten she was still in the saddle.

Megan stopped about three stairs up, at eye level with Darby.

“Things will work out,” Megan told her. “Just let it go, okay?”

“Okay.” Darby's agreement came out on a relieved sigh. As far as she could tell, Megan just didn't have it in her to be a witch.

D
arby longed to throw her arms around Hoku's warm neck and tell her she was glad they had each other. Just like Darby missed the easy friendship she had at home with Heather, Hoku must be lonely for Judge.

Mrs. Allen had sent the old bay gelding, a veteran cow pony from Deerpath Ranch, along as Hoku's shipboard companion, but Jonah had insisted on separating the two horses so that Hoku would bond quicker with Darby.

“Jonah was right,” Darby admitted to Navigator as she rode him toward the tack room where she'd unsaddle and brush him, “but as soon as things settle down, maybe after Hoku and I do our time in the
jungle, I'm planning a reunion party for Hoku and Judge.”

Darby swung her right boot free of the stirrup and over Navigator's back, but balanced on her left stirrup for a second before taking the long step down to the ground. “You're invited to the party, too, big boy,” she told the horse.

With Navigator haltered and tied, Darby shook out her saddle blanket, hung it and her saddle, and wiped her bridle's headstall with a clean cloth. She was about to start brushing the big gelding when she overheard Kit and Kimo talking between the tack shed and the bunkhouse.

Then Cade's voice rose over the others', “I don't do girly gossip. Never have, and I never will.”

“Sorry, but I've got to go see what they're talking about,” Darby whispered to Navigator. She smooched a kiss his way, then said, “I'll be right back.”

As she rounded the corner of the tack room, she saw all three cowboys coming toward her. They were afoot, but Cade led Joker by his neck rope. Cade seemed intent on walking faster than the other two.

When they saw her, Cade kept his eyes fixed just past her shoulder. Kit, for a second, looked trapped, and Kimo began laughing.

When Joker's freckled nose gave Darby a nudge, Cade stopped.

“They're trying to put me up to askin' you about the spirit horse,” he said.

“There's no spirit horse. He's totally real.”

“Told ya,” Kit said, and though it felt good to have the foreman on her side, Darby remembered Jonah kicking dust over the intruder's hoofprints when Kit approached.

“Are you sure he wasn't a dream?” Cade teased. “After all the legends people have been telling you, just the wind in the trees could sound like a horse.”

Darby wanted to insist she'd smelled and heard the stallion, but she remembered Jonah saying,
I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else exactly what you were looking for,
and just shrugged.

“Kit thinks there's another stud horse around here,” Kimo told Darby. “But there'd better not be.”

He hadn't asked her a question, so Darby stayed quiet.

“First thing this morning, I pulled back the curtain and looked down on Luna like I always do,” Kit told Darby. “And like I told these two, he was showin' off, all puffed up and proud.”

Darby thought of the black flash under the candlenut tree, then noticed that Cade was watching her with serious eyes.

When she glanced away from the cowboys, Kit seemed to think she was waiting for more of his story. “Broncs have left me with stiff knees for life, or I woulda got a better look at what was goin' on. By the time I hobbled out there, Luna was just standing by his water trough.”

“And you didn't see another horse?” she asked.

“No. Saw Jonah sniffing around like a bloodhound, though,” Kit said. “Then he asked me to—you know.” He gestured toward the empty wheelbarrow.

Sure, she'd made a mistake leaving the empty grain sacks behind when she'd cleaned the tack room, but Darby wondered, just like Kit seemed to be doing, if Jonah had just been keeping them busy while he looked for distinctive hoof marks.

Kit bumped his black hat back from his eyes, waiting for her to say something, but it was Kimo who muttered, “Don't know of any stud horses on this side of the island.”

“All I'm sayin' is Luna had his make-my-day attitude on,” Kit maintained.

“Kit's right. I was down there pretty early,” Cade said, but he sounded as if his mind had wandered elsewhere.

“Should I do something now?” Darby asked. “I'm supposed to be kind of tending him.”

“That Kanaka Luna. He's always restless,” Kimo said, as if she should put the horse out of her mind.

“I can tell when a horse is itchin' for a fight,” Cade snapped. “And Luna was—all puffed up and ready to kick the heck outta somebody.”

It was weird how silence sprung up around them. Even Joker watched Cade as if he sensed how out of proportion the words had been.

“It
could
be that wild stallion again.” Kimo's tone
was as kind as Cade's had been defensive.

“Mustangs come onto the ranch?” Kit asked.

“Years back one did,” Kimo said. “The stallion that killed Old Luna—this one's sire.”

“Why'd he come in here?” Kit pressed him.

“For the food? For the fight?” Kimo said.

“He left without mares?” Kit asked.

Hoku neighed from her paddock as he said it and Darby guessed her concern showed on her face, because Kit tried to comfort her by saying, “There are lots of horse legends in Nevada, too.”

“This one's no legend,” Kimo said.

Darby made a quick inspection of Navigator's hooves and pulled the halter from his face before she asked, “How many years ago did it happen?”

“Six?” Kimo glanced at Cade.

“Five,” Cade corrected him.

Kimo nodded, then explained, “Cade moved in not long after the wild stud ambushed Old Luna down by the fold.”

Horses could live to be thirty or older, Darby knew, and whatever had brought the killer stallion to ‘Iolani Ranch in the first place could have drawn him back.

And the “fold”…Jonah had mentioned that when he'd tracked the strange horse past Hoku's corral.

Darby was about to ask what the fold was, since she'd only heard it used as a place for sheep, when
something more urgent popped into her mind.

“Wait, they fought to the
death
?” Darby had read that stallions' trumpeting and pawing—the make-my-day attitude Kit had mentioned—drove off the weaker stallion so that neither horse would be injured.

“I don't know if you really want to hear about it,” Kimo said.

“Warring stallions can be ugly,” Kit agreed.

“I'm not too delicate to know about it, if that's what you're thinking,” Darby told them. “If I'm going to be living here, don't you think you should tell me?”

She took up a soft brush and skimmed it over Navigator's back, paying special attention to the sweaty patches of hair.

“This black stud—pretty rough lookin', yeah?—showed up and just rushed down on Old Luna,” Kimo said. “No play fighting, just backed up and kicked the old guy's hind legs until he went down, and by the time Jonah got the rifle, the wild one, well, he'd already whirled around and gone for Old Luna.

“As he aimed, that black stud charged! Hurled himself in the air! Come jumpin' up like he could catch that bullet in his teeth. Or like he wanted to meet it head-on.”

Darby shivered and Kimo nodded in agreement.

“Gives me the chicken skin, thinking of how he ran off at a full gallop. We never saw him again.”

“Jonah missed.” Cade sounded as if he'd heard the story before, but still couldn't believe it.

“He rode after him, but no one asked what happened after that.”

There was a hushed moment before Kimo went on, “Old guy that mows grass at the cemetery, says he's seen the ‘ghost of the murdering horse' grazing between grave markers.”

As Kimo gave an unsure chuckle, Darby's logic returned.

It had to be the same horse. He'd returned and Jonah knew it was him, because he hadn't killed him. At least that's what Darby hoped, because if a supernatural Shining Stallion was hanging around Hoku's pasture, she wouldn't know what to do.

“And you really don't know what made him come onto the ranch the first time?” Darby asked. She'd walked all the way from Crimson Vale to the ranch, and knew how determined she'd had to be. Why would a wild horse do that?

“Don't worry about your filly,” Kimo said. “Jonah's not much on second chances. If it
is
the stud that got away from Jonah, I'm guessing he's done for.”

Darby didn't know what to say to that. She sure didn't want Jonah to kill a wild horse, but she didn't want a murderous mustang to kick down Hoku's fence and kidnap her, either.

Navigator still hadn't wandered away to join the
saddle horses in the lower pasture. His expression was patient as he watched Darby.

“Your carrots!” she yelped, then darted into the tack room, grabbed two, and came back to the big brown horse while the cowboys went about their late-afternoon chores.

As Navigator chewed with obvious pleasure, dripping carrot juice and horse spit on Darby's boots, she realized how protective she felt of him, too.

She needed to find out what was driving the wild stallion from his usual territory so that he didn't hurt any of the horses she cared about.

Taking a quick glance around, Darby touched her lips to Navigator's neck and whispered, “Jonah said I couldn't pet you, but he didn't say one word about kissing.”