The Challenger (8 page)

“Here, chick, chick, chick,” Sam called. Nothing moved around her. Even the hens in the coop didn't flutter.

Where was Blaze?

Sam didn't like being out alone. She trudged through the snow and her boots left ridged patterns, showing her where she'd been. She circled the coop, walked as far as the barn, and stood in the warm straw.

“Hi, Ace,” she said, answering the gelding's nicker. “Seen any runaway hens?”

If he had, Ace wasn't telling. Sam looped through the old pasture, looked up at the ridge, then shivered all over again.

“Too bad, henny penny,” she muttered. “It's going to be a long, cold night.”

Sam turned back the way she'd come, ready for dinner. She'd only taken a few steps when she looked down—and stopped. She took a deep breath, then started jogging toward the front porch light.

She ran a zigzag pattern. She flapped her arms and sang “Jingle Bells” as loud as she could. Anyone who saw her would think she was crazy, and Sam didn't care. She was still yards from the front porch when she jumped—and made it.

She wrapped her arms around her ribs and stared into the darkness. Blaze wasn't out there, but she hadn't been alone.

All the way back to the house she'd followed her own footprints in the snow. Inside them, tracking her out to the barn and through the old pasture, she'd seen the soft padded print of a mountain lion.

S
am rushed inside. Her hands were cold and clumsy as she hung her coat. She stared at the brown leather and swallowed hard. Head down, walking into the wind, had she looked like a deer to the young cougar?

It was her warmest coat, but she wouldn't wear it around the ranch for a while. She hoped she wouldn't have to explain to Gram and Dad.

“You can bring your plate in here, Samantha,” Gram called from the living room.

“That's okay,” Sam said, searching for a quick excuse. “I'm going to study while I eat.”

Sam didn't want to hurt Gram's feelings, but she didn't want to talk about what it took to be a ranch woman, either. Not now.

The yearling cougar had come to River Bend with his mother. He'd learned he could find food here, and he'd probably eaten the hen.

Would the cougar still be hungry? How much would it take to satisfy his appetite? Could he eat a lone horse like Moon, who didn't have the protection of a herd?

Dad might know. Or Jake. She had to ask one of them, and soon. The young cougar was getting brave.

Sam had finished her meal when she heard floor-boards creak overhead. The sound was followed by the click of Blaze's toenails as he came downstairs. Sam heard him start to whine.

She opened the door between the living room and kitchen and let him through.

“And where were you when I needed a bodyguard?” she whispered.

The Border collie gave Sam a brief wave of his tail. Then he stood with ears pricked, staring as if he could see through the wall.

Just as Sam started to worry, Blaze lost interest in whatever he'd heard. He flopped down on the floor and rested his head on his front paws. He seemed to doze, but his ears stayed alert.

Sam opened her algebra book and considered the single index card her teacher had said they could use for notes on tomorrow's quiz. She'd need more than this puny white piece of paper to record what she had to remember from this chapter.

“How was that meat loaf?” Gram called.

“Really good,” Sam answered. “And the mashed potatoes were perfect.”

She should go in and talk with Gram and Dad, but the football game had cut into her study time. She didn't want to walk through the living room and take the chance of being distracted by the television.

Blaze growled so suddenly, Sam jumped. The rumble grew deeper and more vicious as the dog rose to his feet.

“Blaze, hush,” Sam said.

The dog's fur stood up across his shoulders and his lips drew back to show his teeth. It had to be the cougar.

“You're not going out,” she whispered to the dog, but he ignored her.

Even if the young cat was inept and Blaze was furious, the dog would be hurt. If Blaze was in danger, Dad would protect him. Dad's rifle was in a locked case in the living room, but he could have it out and loaded in seconds.

Blaze gave one loud bark, then subsided into growls again.

“He sounds serious,” Gram said. Sam thought she was talking to Dad.

“Blaze!” Sam's voice couldn't cut through the sudden volley of barks or the lunge against the kitchen door. Dad's feet hit the floor in the other room.

“What in the—” Dad's single stride took him halfway across the kitchen floor.

Sam stepped in front of the kitchen door. “Don't let him out!”

“Why not?” Dad's voice was low, but she heard him over Blaze's barks.

Sam couldn't let it happen. There'd be a whirling tumble of fur and teeth and one of the animals would probably die.

“Samantha?” Dad's voice said she'd better speak up, right now.

“I think it's the cougar.”

Gram was in the kitchen now. “Linc shot—”

“It's the other one,” Sam interrupted. “The baby.”

Dad gave a quick nod. He switched on the porch light. Just as he slipped past Blaze and stepped outside, Sam heard a ringing impact. Something big had hit the wire around the chicken coop.

“Wyatt!” Gram shouted.

Blaze bounded back and forth in front of the door, then jumped, trying to see from the window.

Sam peered out, but the angle was wrong for her to see the coop. What she could see was Dad waving his arms.

“Get out of here!” he shouted. “Go on, now!”

Blaze's barking stopped and Sam could hear Dallas call from the bunkhouse.

“What ya got out there, Boss?”

Dad shouted something back, but because he was facing the other direction, Sam couldn't tell what he said.

“Should we send Blaze to see him off?” Dallas yelled.

At the sound of his name, the dog barked again.

“No, I think we've seen the last of him,” Dad said.

Gram had crowded beside Sam at the window. They watched Dad leave the porch and walk across the ranch yard to meet Dallas.

As the men talked, Gram turned to Sam and asked, “You're sure it was the cougar?”

“No. Maybe—it could have been a coyote.”

“Not likely. They're awfully quiet, but a young cat who didn't know what he was doing…Throwing himself against the wire is just the sort of thing he'd do.”

Sam saw Pepper leave the bunkhouse and cross the yard with a flashlight. He swept the beam around the chicken coop. When he called out, Dad and Dallas walked over to join him.

After all the nodding and pointing, Sam knew they'd seen the tracks of the mountain lion.

“It's nine o'clock,” Gram said. “You'd better start getting ready for bed.”

“Please, not yet,” Sam said. “I've got to talk with Dad.”

“I'm afraid you won't like what he has to say,” Gram warned. “And I don't know why you've gotten attached to these dangerous animals. They could kill any one of us, and that includes the horses. Thank goodness Dark Sunshine isn't due to foal yet.”

Gram was right, but Sam had to explain her feelings.

“Linc Slocum only killed that cougar so that he
could hang its skin on his barn,” Sam blurted. “He orphaned that cub for no good reason. Linc created the problem, but the cub has to pay for it.”

She'd heard Dad come back into the house while she was talking. She turned to look at him. Though he leaned down to rumple Blaze's ears and praise him, Dad kept his eyes on Sam.

“Was it the cat?” Gram asked.

“Yeah, and since we've never had trouble with one before, I'm pretty sure it's the one Sam was talking about.” Dad's eyes were sympathetic, but his voice wasn't. “I'll give him a day or two to head up into the mountains.”

Sam didn't want to ask the question, but she had to.

“What if he doesn't go?”

“That chicken won't fill him up for long,” Dad said. “He needs a deer a week—or prey that amounts to that many calories. If he doesn't get it, he'll get too weak to hunt and he'll starve.”

“Could they trap him and take him somewhere with other cougars?”

“They're solitary animals, Sam. Far as I know, they only get together in mating season.”

“When is that?”

Dad rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. “Seems like I've seen pictures of them together in winter, but I'm no expert.”

“Okay.” Sam stood looking at the floor until the wood planking began to swim before her eyes. “I
guess I should go to bed.”

All at once, Sam wanted to hurry. Something in the way Dad shifted his feet made her suspect something worse was coming.

“Sam?” Dad's voice stopped her. “I'll give him two or three days,
if
no one gets hurt. If he shows up near the house again, or attacks a horse, or claws a River Bend calf out on the range, the deal is off.”

 

When Sam and Jen got off the bus after school the next day, Sam felt their fight was almost forgotten. She was still careful not to mention the cougar or Jen's dad, but she'd quit weighing her words.

Now, as the bus pulled away, they stood talking before starting their walks home.

“I'll be calling you about my algebra. I don't get polynomials at all,” Sam moaned. “And I can't believe it's only Tuesday.”

“It's a challenge fit for Einstein,” Jen agreed. “The week that never ends.”

Sam laughed in bewilderment. Jen was always saying things like that, as if she had a crush on the dead scientist. Sam promised herself that someday she'd learn what all the fuss was about.

“Although maybe,” Jen mused, “I shouldn't hope it does.”

“Shouldn't hope the week ends? Why?”

“Because Princess Rachel will be ruling Gold Dust Ranch for a week.”

Sam recoiled. “Where's Linc going?” she asked.

It wasn't as if Rachel would have much to do. Mrs. Coley managed the house and Jed Kenworthy ran the ranch. Nothing was likely to go terribly wrong. Still, handing Rachel any control was frightening.

“New York. To meet Ryan.”

“Ryan? Rachel's twin?”

“That's the one,” Jen said. “I guess Linc's combining a business trip with meeting Ryan at the airport when he flies in from London.”

So that's why Rachel had dragged her off horse shopping, Sam thought. Ryan lived in England with their mother and he was a serious horseman. Rachel wanted to dazzle him with her new horse. Except she didn't have one.

“Was your grandmother supposed to pick you up for something?” Jen asked, shading her eyes as Gram's Buick rolled toward them.

It turned out that Jen's mom had called to say Jen could go riding with Sam without coming home first. Gram looked a little nervous as she explained.

“Since you two are of a size and Sam has plenty of riding clothes, I thought that would be fine,” Gram said.

For a few seconds, Jen looked confused. Then her expression turned to hurt.

“That means my parents are fighting again,” she mumbled to Sam as they climbed into Gram's backseat. “And they don't want me around.”

Sam felt awful, but Jen sounded so certain. There was no point in trying to convince her that she was wrong. Sam decided she would try a different approach to cheer Jen up.

“Who do you want to ride?” she offered. “Pick any horse on the place.”

“Wow.” Jen rubbed her hands together and gave a wiggle of delight as if her parents' problems were forgotten. “Even Popcorn?”

“Especially Popcorn,” Sam said. Jen was a good rider, so whatever choice she made would be perfect. “Brynna said HARP probably won't get up and going until at least spring break. We don't want Popcorn to forget everything he's learned.”

Once they reached River Bend, the girls ran upstairs, changed into riding clothes, and talked about where they'd go.

“We could go toward War Drum Flats,” Jen said. “But if there are mustangs at the water hole, it might be hard for Popcorn.”

“Yeah, if he saw a whole herd, he might want to join them,” Sam said. Then she thought of something that would really please Jen. “You know what, though? I can't promise he's still there, but if he is, I'll show you a really neat mustang. He's alone, so I think Popcorn will do fine.”

Jen looked dubious. “You expect him to be where you last saw him?”

“He's sort of a special case,” Sam explained.
“Just trust me, okay?”

The girls hurried downstairs.

“Gram, is it all right if we ride over to Mrs. Allen's and see how Faith is doing?” Sam asked. Aspen Creek was hardly out of the way. The detour wouldn't take more than an extra twenty minutes.

“I suppose that would be all right,” Gram said, but she looked uneasy. “You girls stay together, now.”

When Gram or Dad said that, Sam wondered if she should explain that she and Jen went riding or to the mall because they liked to do things together.
Why would we split up?
Sam wanted to ask. But she didn't.

“We will,” she said instead.

 

Sam brushed Ace and saddled him while Jen stood in the big pasture with Popcorn.

When Sam returned, leading Ace and carrying a brush and the tack Jen would need, the albino mustang was still sniffing Jen over.

Nostrils flaring, Popcorn checked the hand Jen held out for his inspection, then whuffled his lips over the end of one braid and finally nuzzled the top of her head.

“Do I pass, boy?” Jen asked quietly.

Popcorn looked away as if he were bored, and Sam decided he no longer considered Jen a threat.

“Okay, I think you can tack him up,” Sam said.

“I'm going to spend a little time grooming him,” Jen said.

“He could use it,” Sam said. Rolling in the mud was an unfortunate habit for a white horse, but Popcorn loved it.

“Not only that,” Jen said, “but I was reading that since horses in the wild scratch each other's backs and whisk flies from each other's faces, they consider you a member of their herd if you do the same.”

It made sense, Sam thought, so she tried to be patient. She rode Ace up and down the fence, making him turn with quick precision, until Popcorn was brushed and saddled, and Jen had mounted.

Clumps of mud flew up from Ace's hind feet as he bolted in front of Popcorn.

“Hey,” Sam scolded, but Ace didn't take her reprimand to heart.

Though he was at least a hand shorter than Popcorn, Ace held his head high. Then, when the albino tried to catch up, Ace flashed his teeth.

“Since when do you want to lead the way?” Sam asked, shortening her reins.

“Maybe the cold weather makes him frisky,” Jen said. Then she dipped an arm as if bowing. “After you, my dear Ace.”

They'd ridden over the bridge and started along the far side of La Charla, toward a group of grazing Herefords, when Jen's conversation circled back to the Slocums.

“Can you believe that when Linc meets Ryan, he's bringing him a new car? And then they're going to
drive across the country together?”

“If he's even half as spoiled as Rachel, I can believe it,” Sam said.