The Challenger
Authors: Terri Farley
Phantom Stallion 6
Terri Farley
Samantha Forster had never felt so out of place.
Three Ponies Ranch seemed deserted.
Sam didn't have a chance to nag Jake for detailsâ¦
Sunday morning, Sam went to church with Gram and Brynna.
As if Moon heard Sam's worry, he let the bloodâ¦
Sam smelled apple pie baking as soon as she andâ¦
Sam's guilty conscience woke her at four A.M.
Gram's Buick slid up to the bus stop with justâ¦
Ace tossed his head high and wheeled hard right, backâ¦
Maybe Miss Finch was psychic.
Sam rushed inside. Her hands were cold and clumsy asâ¦
“It's Yellowtail,” Sam whispered as the chestnut stallion approached fromâ¦
Hissing and snarling, the cougar backed away from the horsesâ¦
As wind chased around the ranch house, Sam told herselfâ¦
Sam and Jen slipped past Rachel through the door andâ¦
The piebald pony, with his large, irregular patches of blackâ¦
They found Chipper at Aspen Creek. Like a small shadow,â¦
Sam pulled her nightgown down to cover her ankles asâ¦
Sam stood on the floor of the arroyo.
Sam had managed to ease her aching body out ofâ¦
S
amantha Forster had never felt so out of place.
Surrounded by the familiar scents of saddle soap, hay, and horses, she shouldn't have felt awkward, but she did. Sterling Stables was about as far as you could get from River Bend Ranch.
Not far in distance, Sam thought. She looked east. They were still in Nevada, just an hour from home. She could still smell sagebrush and hear the flutter of quail. She saw the Calico Mountains against the blue sky, too, but instead of white-peaked giants, they looked like miniature ice-cream cones.
Was the Phantom up in that rocky, windblown terrain? The thought of the mustang stallion with only his winter coat for protection made Sam shiver. The beautiful horses of Sterling Stables were sissies compared to the Phantom and his herd.
Shining like glass, a dozen Morgan yearlings grazed on acres of cross-fenced pastures. The irrigated
grass rolled flat as green carpet around Sterling Stables' three long barns.
The stalls' half doors were open, showing the heads of dozens of perfectly groomed horses. About a block away from the barns, an arena held a variety of jumps built of candy-striped rails, hedges, and red brick. The arena was circled with a loamy oval marked by hoofprints.
“Could you pretend you're helping me pick a horse, instead of looking like a homesick pup?” Rachel Slocum muttered. Despite her irritation, the rich girl's faint smile stayed pasted in place.
How do you do that?
Sam wanted to ask, but Rachel's eyes warned her to focus.
“I
am
helping you,” Sam said. “Or at least I would be, if you'd follow my suggestions.”
Rachel closed her eyes, pretending to be patient. When she opened them, she considered the horse that was being paraded past for her approval.
“What do you think of this one?” Rachel asked.
A bay with a braided black mane trotted at the end of a short lead. His handler was a young woman wearing English jodhpurs, boots that shone with polish, and a white high-collared shirt just like Rachel's.
“He's beautiful.” Sam shifted uncomfortably in her well-worn Western boots.
When Linc and Rachel Slocum picked her up at River Bend that morning, Sam had felt just right in her boots, jeans, and burgundy pullover.
The feeling hadn't lasted long.
At the first ranch, Rachel had window-shopped through a selection of Thoroughbred-cross endurance horses. Sam had loved watching the athletic animals, but her fun had faded when Rachel pointed out that Sam was dressed all wrong.
Who cares?
Sam had wanted to ask, but she didn't. And even though she couldn't believe Rachel decided to leave without trying one of the endurance horses, Sam was relieved to drive away.
But this place was even worse.
At Sterling Stables, known for its select Morgan performance horses, Sam felt like a country bumpkin.
“Even I can see he's beautiful,” Rachel said as the gelding trotted past again. “But should I buy him?”
“You haven't even asked how much they want for him,” Sam said, keeping her voice low. Rachel's father, Linc, stood just a few feet away, talking on his cell phone.
Rachel smiled. “You know that doesn't really matter. I just want to know if
you'd
buy him. Will my brother think he's a great horse?”
“He looks healthy and strong. At halter, his gaits are smooth.” Sam held her hand palm up, inviting Rachel to look around. “The stable certainly seems reputable, but you have to get on and ride, Rachel.”
Rachel's eyes glittered with stubbornness as she pushed back a wing of dark hair. “Not in front of everyone.”
Sam sighed. In spite of equestrian training in England and brush-up lessons here in Nevada, Rachel still wasn't a confident rider.
And Sam understood how she felt. A few months ago, after an injury and two years away from the ranch, she'd been nervous about riding again. But Sam didn't understand Rachel's willingness to take home an untried horse. What if it bucked? Or bit?
“I'm waiting for your opinion, Samantha.” Rachel kept smiling, but she tapped her toe with impatience.
Sam decided she probably deserved this. She hadn't really come to help Rachel. She'd come to look at the horses.
If Rachel could hide her true feelings, why couldn't Sam? Maybe she needed more practice.
“Okay,” she said, trying to sound pleasant. “Since you've given up the rodeo queen idea, and you have nothing in mind except buying a horse to impress your brother, just pick one you like.”
Sam had kept her voice just above a whisper, unsure of whether Linc Slocum knew his daughter's plan, but she hadn't been quiet enough.
Linc Slocum snapped his cell phone shut.
“Honey, Samantha's right,” he said. “That gal out there is Katie Sterling. She helps her dad run the place, and she wouldn't mind getting a horse ready for you to ride.” Linc waited a second. Then, just in case Rachel hadn't taken the hint, he added, “You should probably ride the horse before we buy it.”
“Daddy.” Rachel's eyes were cold as she talked to
her father. “Did you bring your checkbook?”
In answer, Linc Slocum patted his pocket.
“Then that's all you need to worry about,” Rachel said.
Before Sam absorbed the shock from Rachel's rudeness, the girl pointed at another stall.
“Wait. How about her?”
To Sam's surprise, Rachel walked toward a stall as if drawn by magnetism. “Mocha,” said the brass plate on the stall door. The mare's head went up, and November sunshine shone on the neck she arched over her stall's half door.
Mocha's coat was the darkest possible brown, like fresh coffee. Her ears and eyes tracked Rachel's movements as she came closer.
Sam couldn't help turning to Linc Slocum. He grinned, and Sam thought they must be thinking the same thing: sometimes people and animals just click.
Katie Sterling noticed, too. She quit jogging the bay and led him back toward the stalls.
“I take it you're not interested in Glow-Boy.” She sounded breathless as she patted the gelding's neck.
“No,” Rachel said in a dreamy tone. “Just tell me aboutâMocha.”
“She's five years old, goes both English and Western, and she's really smart. Why don't I tack her up and you can see if you suit each other?”
Rachel shook her head. Her eyes refocused, this time on Katie Sterling. “What do you mean, smart?”
Perfect.
Rachel believed horses were stupid, but
did she have to admit it? Sam didn't hold her head and moan, but Katie Sterling looked her way.
“Let's see.” Katie sounded confused but willing to explain. “Someone mentioned cat tracks up your way, for instance. If you were ever to come near that cat, I think Mocha would stay calm and follow directions.”
The young woman moved close enough that Glow-Boy and Mocha touched noses.
“Cat tracks?” Sam asked. “You mean like a bobcat?”
Linc Slocum leaned forward, listening for Katie Sterling's answer.
“I'm pretty sure it was a mountain lion,” she said. “You know, a cougar.”
“Up our way? Where?” Slocum demanded.
At his shout, Glow-Boy flinched. With a snort, the mare backed away from her stall door, and Rachel glared at her father.
“Maybe along a ridge?” Katie squinted as if trying to remember. “I couldn't say for sure, Mr. Slocum, but I bet it's nothing to worry about. Cougars are shy. About all you ever see of cats is their tracks.”
“I'm not worried,” Slocum insisted, but his face flushed red. “Who's saying this, now?”
“Let me think. It might have been Sheriff Ballard. He rides one of our horses in a mounted posse parade unit.”
“Ya know his number?” Slocum opened his cell phone again.
“I don't, and I'm not certain it was him. With so
many horses, we get a lot of people through here. It might have been one of our boarders, or the vetâ”
“Which one? The big guy or the scrawny blond fella with glasses?”
“I wish I could remember.” Katie's voice was calm. Sam would bet she used the same tone to soothe nervous horses. “The Department of Wildlife could tell you more.”
“They issue hunting licenses, too?”
Katie Sterling shrugged, then excused herself to put Glow-Boy back in his stall. While she was away, Linc Slocum paced.
Sam didn't much like the idea of a cougar prowling the ridge behind River Bend. She liked the idea of Linc Slocum with a rifle even less.
“So, what do you say?” Katie Sterling was striding back, arms loaded with a saddle and blanket, a bridle slung over one shoulder. “Ready to try Mocha?”
“Not today,” Rachel said. “I have a few more horses to see, but I've no doubt we'll return.”
Rachel rushed toward the Cadillac and Linc followed her, leaving Sam behind to face a surprised Katie Sterling.
“Thanks for your help,” Sam said.
“My dad would tell me to shake your hand, but⦔ Katie lifted the saddle pointedly.
Sam smiled and said, “I bet Rachel will be back.”
“Does sheâplease don't take this the wrong wayâbut does she even like horses?”
Katie's question made Sam feel included and accepted, even in her cowboy boots. She thought carefully before answering.
“Rachel likes to be in control,” she said finally.
Katie grinned. “So does Mocha. Wouldn't
that
combination be fun to watch?”
Linc's Cadillac roared to life. A startled barn cat ran zigzag across the paddock as Sam waved good-bye to Katie. Sam hurried to the car and slipped into the backseat, still wondering what had attracted Rachel to Mocha.
“Where to?” Linc sounded distracted.
“To see that horse at Mrs. Ely's house, I guess.” Rachel matched her hands palm to palm, but she wasn't praying. She tapped her fingernails, admiring her manicure.
Linc Slocum sighed. First thing this morning, he'd suggested they see Royal, a Quarter horse the Elys had gotten in trade for a tractor engine.
Rachel slid a CD into the car's player. Sam grimaced. She didn't share Rachel's taste in music, but she tried not to listen.
No one spoke as they sped down the highway.
Sam watched the Calico Mountains grow bigger on the horizon. She hoped the Phantom was tucked away safe with his herd. The last time she'd been in the valley of wild horses, the Phantom had been gone and his night-black son had acted as if he was in charge.
Known as New Moon, the black was almost as
handsome as his father. Son or not, though, the Phantom wouldn't allow Moon near his mares. Would he? She sighed. There was no way of knowing, unless she rode into the mountains to see for herself.
For months, the Phantom had trusted their friendship. He'd remembered her as the girl who'd raised him, but now the silver mustang was wilder than ever before. He'd been captured and forced to buck in a rodeo. After he'd come home, things had changed.
She had only one grain of hope. A few weeks ago, she'd found the stallion protecting a blind foal at the hot springs near Deerpath Ranch. He hadn't fled when she approached.
Maybe he'd come back to her after all.
As they passed the turnoff to Gold Dust Ranch, Linc Slocum kept his eyes on the ridge that soared above it. Watching for the cougar, no doubt. He was still watching as they passed the road to River Bend.
They'd almost reached the Elys' Three Ponies Ranch when Rachel began whining.
“Why does Mocha have to be a
smart
horse? That means she'll pull tricks if I don't pay attention every single minute, and I really want her.”
Sam couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. “Why? What made you like her so much?”
Rachel half turned to look at Sam, in the backseat. “Even you must have noticed. Her coat
exactly
matches my hair.”