Secret Star (11 page)

“Here we go,” Sam told Ace as Bayfire moved into a gallop, jumping wide clumps of sagebrush as he went.

At first, Ace veered around the gray-green vegetation, but once he understood Sam was asking for senseless jackrabbit hops, he set out after the stallion, popping over the sagebrush with ease.

When they reached the gully, the horses took it side by side, and landed with less elation than their riders.

“Good boy,” Sam told Ace, and when she leaned down to give him a hearty pat on the neck, he snorted, wondering what all the fuss was about.

Resting her horse as they moved into Lost Canyon, Sam let him fall behind. She chalked up his careful, deliberate walk to being out of breath, until Ace snorted and stood stone still.

Bayfire and Inez went on ahead. The stallion's head jerked from right to left as he inspected the unfamiliar surroundings.

Sam tightened her legs a little, then clucked to Ace.

“They're getting ahead of us, boy. Let's pick up the pace just a little,” Sam urged the gelding.

When Ace still refused, Sam looked for trouble. She thought of the cougar, of Flick, the mustanger, who'd actually threatened Jake with a rifle, but she didn't see any danger.

“What are you thinking, Ace?” Sam said, rubbing Ace's neck.

Inez drew rein, waiting for them to catch up.

“I have to say Bay has better nerves than I do,” Inez observed. “It's a little creepy for me, working this near the edge,” Inez said, looking down at the adobe and honey-colored layers of sandstone below. “But he doesn't seem to mind it.”

“I'm looking for the path up,” Sam said. She stared at the soaring rock, glad she'd refused to help with the stunt. “It should be here, since we're almost to the ‘waterfall.' I just never took it before.”

As Inez urged Bayfire back toward the middle of the narrow trail, Ace took a few slow steps to follow.

Sam was leaning, looking around for the trail to the top, and not quite balanced in her saddle when she saw Inez point.

“Is that a wild horse?” Inez gasped.

A roan filly and two blood bays scattered off the trail ahead, away from the big boulder with water seeping down its face.

“Oh yeah,” Sam answered in a whisper. “They're wild.”

The words had barely passed her lips before the three mustangs vanished and the Phantom appeared. Ace must have scented him minutes ago.

“I don't even believe it. That's the stallion, the leader!” Inez's voice was low and excited.

Sam felt as if her nerve endings were every bit as alive and vibrating as the horses'.

Morning sunlight glimmered on the Phantom's coat, turning it silvery white. His head lifted and his brown eyes peered through wavy strands of forelock that crowned him king of this canyon.

“He's magnificent,” Inez said. “And he's not afraid. He's watching us.”

He's watching Bayfire, Sam thought. Her hands gripped the reins hard. She told herself everything was okay. So far.

Eyes wide and nostrils flared, the Phantom took in all he needed to know about the other stallion. With his herd safely out of sight, he didn't challenge Bayfire.

But the tame stallion clearly felt threatened. Sam's heart went out to Bayfire as he mouthed his bit and lowered his head.

Was Inez ashamed or just impatient with Bayfire? Whatever the reason, she tried to make him stand still and the dark stallion panicked. Squealing, Bayfire backed swiftly toward the edge of the trail.

Seeing his possible opponent retreat, the Phantom snorted and turned to follow his herd.

Don't go,
Sam thought,
not so soon.

But it was for the best, because Inez was struggling with Bayfire as he kept moving off the trail, toward the dangerous, sandy edge.

“Stand,” Inez ordered, but Bayfire didn't.

He stopped for just an instant, and then, seeing the silken swaying of the Phantom's tail as he moved off in easy victory, Bayfire screamed a defiant neigh.

“Are you crazy?” Inez asked.

Beneath her, Sam felt Ace shiver. He gave a worried whinny and sidestepped away from Bayfire.

Sam didn't blame the little gelding. He didn't want to be anyplace near the two stallions if a fight erupted.

But the Phantom wasn't fooled. He knew Bayfire was no battle-hardened rival. The silver stallion strutted off without a backward look.

Blowing and huffing, Bayfire let every creature around know he felt insulted. His trumpeting neigh blurred Inez's words.

“Let's go,” she said, but was the trainer talking to her horse?

Sam studied Inez's face, but she only saw concentration. Completely focused, she used hands, legs, and seat to give the stallion orders any saddle horse would be able to follow. He ignored her.

Finally, Inez tapped his withers with her hand. She spoke low commands and though his ears flicked back to catch her words, he struck out with one hind
hoof. He slung his head side to side, trying to capture the bit, until he heard hooves, moving up the trail behind him.

He swung around to face the approaching horse and in that moment, Sam saw the bay stallion as he should be. Defiant and strong, barely restricted by his rider, he was dangerous and definitely not a horse she'd want to be riding, but beautiful.

“Jake's coming,” Sam said as she recognized Witch's bad-tempered snort.

“Maybe Witch'll make him forget about that stallion,” Inez muttered, arms shaking with the effort of holding the horse. “I can't believe this. He's totally out of control.”

It took Jake to realize what neither Sam nor Inez did.

He drew Witch to a halt, bumped his Stetson back from his eyes. In amazement, he looked from Sam to Inez, then back to Sam.

“What did you do to that horse?” he asked her. “Whatever it was, keep it up. Looks to me like he's cured.”

I
t took fifteen minutes to get Bayfire settled down enough that he was willing to stand near Witch and Ace as they drank from the small pool at the base of the rock face.

Sam and Jake had dismounted, but Inez remained in the saddle, certain she had better control of the stallion from there.

“Obviously, in spite of the fact that he's recovered some of his spirit, I'm not going to chase after a wild stallion and get us both killed,” Inez said.

“Look at him strut,” Sam said, laughing.

Neck bowed to his chest, nostrils flared and red as if he'd run up the mountain and back again, Bayfire bared his teeth toward the empty trail
where the Phantom had stood, then half reared, forelegs pawing in battle with a horse that wasn't there.

“I'm not joking, you two,” Inez said. “He's hardly under control and he hasn't even seen the site where we'll be shooting tomorrow.”

“Kinda wondered why you went on past the trail to the top,” Jake said.

“We missed it,” Sam said, suppressing a shiver. “I've never been up there before.”

“It's no big deal,” Jake said, looking at Sam as if she'd said she was terrified.

“I didn't say it was,” Sam snapped. “Just because I've never gone up there before doesn't mean I'm afraid.”

“Good,” Inez said, “because I'd feel safer if you two rode alongside us, kind of sandwiching Bayfire between your horses. That is, if there's room?” She looked at Jake.

“Just barely,” he said.

Oh good, Sam thought, as she swung Ace into position beside the snorting stallion, but it wasn't as bad as she thought.

The trail was on the windward side of the canyon, but the summer day was calm and the only hazard was uneven footing. Grazed bare of vegetation, it was wide enough that none of them had to look over the edge unless they wanted to.

Sam chose to keep her eyes fixed on the space between Ace's ears as he plodded up the trail. When
they reached the top, she saw a hawk riding wind currents.

Great, there's something higher up than I am,
she thought.

Two things,
she corrected her cowardly brain—a hawk and the sky.

“It's like a little plateau,” Inez said as the horses tested the rubber mat she'd just explained to Jake. “Ten feet across, at least.”

“I don't know about that,” Sam said. “The swimming pool in my old school was ten feet deep.”

“But it didn't have three horses to fill it up,” Inez pointed out.

“And depth and width are kinda different,” Jake said. He sounded as if he were talking to a kindergartner.

The only thing that kept Sam from sticking her tongue out at him was the risk of looking like one.

The waterfall whispered as it fell down a gap in the rock. Sam was wondering where the water came from, thinking it looked as if it just welled out of the rock itself, when Bayfire lowered his head to sniff the rubber padding under his hooves, then blew through his lips.

“He's quietin' down,” Jake said.

Inez nodded. “He recognizes the smell, I'd guess. Most of his movies use these mats.”

Inez let her reins droop and Bayfire moved forward, away from Witch and Ace, to the edge. His
ears flicked alertly, listening.

“This is it?” Inez asked, looking back at Jake. “This jump's nothing. Sam, come look at it.”

I'm not taking the leap and neither is Ace,
Sam thought, but she rode forward just the same.

The cleft in the rock was maybe three and a half feet across. Though the water looked white as it found its way down, it was quiet. The jump would be a little wider than the clumps of sagebrush they'd jumped that morning, but narrower than the gully.

Inez backed Bayfire away from the edge and he moved with collected smoothness.

Sam admired the horse, but she was still thinking of their bunny hopping this morning.

“It won't be more than a hop for—” Sam didn't have time to finish her sentence before surprise snatched her breath away.

Inez sent Bayfire forward, and Ace tried to follow.

“Oh no,” Sam whispered. “No more follow the leader.”

Ace shook his head, but Sam kept the reins snug. Bayfire moved with the grace of a show jumper and the rubber mats made him soundless. He landed on the other side as lightly as a bird.

Sam still hadn't caught her breath when Inez wheeled the horse back around. And then he was coming at her, taking the jump as easily as if he were stepping over the threshold of the barn.

Sam glanced at Jake and he was smiling, but she wanted to shout or at least applaud. Instead, she hissed, “That's great!” as Inez stopped the horse.

“How fiery did he look?” Inez asked, and Sam didn't know what to say.

Bayfire had lost the flare of spirit. His moves had looked effortless, though, and she thought that should be enough.

“He's poutin' again,” Jake said, shaking his head.

“I'm calling it a day,” Inez said.

They all did, riding back in near silence.

Clouds had moved in to turn the blue-and-gold morning dark, but it wasn't cooler. If anything, it felt hotter, as if the warm air had been pushed down, closer to them, by the gray thunderheads.

Jake split off, riding toward home with a promise to be back before daybreak. Sam hoped the shoot went off on schedule, though, because Jake had told her he and his mom had to be at the Reno airport by evening.

The neigh Bayfire sent after Witch was melancholy, but Sam took it as a good sign. The stallion was definitely getting socialized. Now, she just had to think of a way to cheer up Inez.

Lunch,
Sam thought. She couldn't help smiling when she realized she'd accidentally picked up Gram's solution for sagging emotions.

Hurry,
Sam told herself as River Bend Ranch came into sight.

What should she fix? She wasn't a great cook, and her best lunchtime creation—grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup—really wasn't suitable for late August.

A far-off rumble of thunder teased her, but it was still too hot for soup.

Wait. There'd been barbecued steak left from last night's dinner, and there'd definitely be fresh bread and maybe some tiny, sweet carrots from Gram's garden.

They were nearly at the bridge over the La Charla River when Inez blurted, “I don't know what to hope for, Sam.”

Inez shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she'd said.

“Sorry, I sound like I'm about ten years old. I don't mean to be dumping my bad mood on you. It's just that if that wild stallion's back up there in the morning, Bayfire will look great.” She bent forward and gave the stallion's neck a loud pat. “And he did look fantastic, didn't he? Like a wild beast,” she joked with the horse, rumpling his mane. “But his rough attitude could make even that simple jump dangerous.”

Sam shook her head. “I'm pretty sure the Phantom won't be back up there again in the morning,” she said, but when Inez's faint smile faded, she added, “But he's unpredictable. Since your crew's been in Lost Canyon, setting things up, I wouldn't have expected
to see him there today.”

“Well, I'm giving my wild beast the afternoon off, so I can drive into Alkali and meet with the crew. He won't need any costuming, which is a good thing since all his plastic armor's in Hollywood, but I'd like to see what I'll be wearing, how early they want me in Makeup and all that.”

“Do you have time for lunch first?” Sam asked. “I was going to make us steak sandwiches.”

“Thanks,” Inez said as she swung down from Bayfire's saddle in the quiet ranch yard, “but I think I'll just clean him up and get on my way.”

Inez had brushed Bayfire, cleaned his feet, and put him back in the box stall, but Sam was still squatting next to Ace, feeling his legs for any unusual warmth or sprains from the jumps, when she felt a raindrop plop on her back.

Then, just when she thought Inez had returned to her camper, the woman's shadow fell over her.

When she looked up, Inez was backlit by the sun. Blown by hot wind, the clouds parted for just long enough that Sam couldn't really see her face. Still, something in the way the trainer stood told Sam that something was really wrong.

“There's one little thing I left out when I was telling you and everybody about the family business,” Inez said.

“Okay,” Sam said. She looked back at Ace's legs, though she was pretty much done. As usual, the
tough little mustang had come through the surprise workout just fine. But she thought Inez might be more comfortable if she wasn't standing up, staring her in the eyes.

“When I said my dad was semiretired,” Inez went on, “well, he didn't just retire from the equine end of our business. He sold off all our movie animals, except a few he gave to sanctuaries. Then he moved to Miami to live near my brother Mateo. He has a restaurant and my dad's working there a couple nights a week as the maitre d'.” Inez swallowed so loudly, Sam heard her. “So, I wasn't exactly lying when I said…Yeah I was, but here's the thing. I'm running what's left of Animal Artists, all by myself. So if Bayfire…”

Sam stood slowly. Fat drops of rain plopped down on the dusty ranch yard as she tried to figure out what to do.

She didn't know Inez well enough to hug her.

She couldn't promise Inez that Animal Artists wouldn't fail, either, because what did she know about Hollywood? But she did know horses.

“Bayfire's well rested, he's had lots of interesting exercise, time with other horses, and he hasn't made a move to hurt you for a while,” Sam said, realizing she'd adopted Brynna's no-nonsense approach to the problem. “You knew what your horse needed and you've given it to him. Bayfire will do great tomorrow,” Sam said. “Jake thinks so, too, remember? He
said Bayfire looked cured. Not just better, but cured.”

“I hope you're right,” Inez said dubiously, but Sam saw a little bounce in the trainer's step as she walked toward her camper, jingling her keys, and it hadn't been there before.

Lunch without Inez wouldn't be so bad, Sam was thinking as she turned Ace into the ten-acre pasture. She'd have the kitchen to herself, and eating alone might be fun.

Alone.
On some level she must have noticed that Gram's Buick was missing. Now she saw that the horse trailer was gone, too. Then Sam's eyes swept across the pasture.

The rain fell steadily now, and she had to squint at the saddle horses. Dad and the hands had taken the truck, but a horse was missing. Sweetheart.

Sam leaned forward, arms wrapped around her middle as if she were sick. She was, but not with flu or anything like that. Raindrops hammered against the back of her head, drenching her hair until it dripped, too.

The pinto mare was gone, probably forever.

When she ran to the ranch house and threw open the door to demand an explanation, the house was dark and empty.

Only the swing of the grandfather clock's pendulum accompanied Sam as she walked from room to room.

You agreed to this,
she told herself, but it didn't help.
With each step, her face felt more sunburned, her hair more dusty, her heart more lonely. She couldn't even find Cougar.

For the first time in months, Sam had nothing to do and no one to do it with.

She was about to start feeling really sorry for herself when she thought of Inez. The trainer was heartsore over her horse, her father had moved away, and she might lose the business she loved.

“Shake it off,” Sam told herself, and then Cougar skidded out from under the couch and attacked the toe of her boot. “I'll shake
you
off,” she threatened gently, but the cat wasn't scared.

His back arched. His fur stood on end. He pounced on a magazine someone had dropped next to a chair, then raced up the stairs as if Blaze were chasing him. But whatever Cougar was afraid of, was all in his imagination.