Wild Fire (2 page)

Colin nodded at her friend. Tia's eyes were a deep chocolate brown, and right now they were the size of Frisbees
.

“Hi. I was just asking Greg about that paint.” Colin pointed to where Tia's gelding, Patches, was tied at a post halfway between the driveway and the barn. “He belong to you?”

Tia nodded, still speechless, and Colin's gaze shifted back to Kara. “Nice horse. You ladies going riding? That meadow trail's still slick in places, but it's better than the one up Sutter Hill. Greg here nearly lost it up there this morning. Dakota managed it, but I think we need a week or two of sun before it's safe.”

Greg's face turned red, and Kara urged Tia on down the steps.

“We'll be careful,” she grinned. Colin ducked his head and settled his dilapidated hat back in its place.

Tia was untying Patches but still looking toward the porch. “He's gorgeous! And he's spending the summer at Eagle Lodge? You have all the luck.”

Kara shrugged, “He's nice enough, but he's bossy. And,” she added as she unhooked the barn gate, “he talks too much.”

Tia sighed and led Patches into the barn. “I didn't notice.”

Once in the barn, Kara forgot about Colin. She put a halter on her mare, Lily, and led her to the grooming mat. The pretty palomino nickered with excitement as Kara readied her for the ride.

Patches stood patiently at the end of his lead rope. His black and white coat still gleamed from this morning's brushing. Tia had ridden him from her place to Kara's, so he was already saddled. “Where's Ryan?” Tia asked as she looked around the empty yard.

Kara buckled the cinch strap under Lily's belly. “Don't panic. My little brother is at his friend Timmy's for the afternoon.”

“Well, hurry up. If he comes home early, he'll want to go with us.”

“Not a chance. I'm all set.” She lifted her left foot into the stirrup, hopped three times on her right, then swung it over and settled into the saddle.

Tia giggled. “When are you gonna grow legs? I'll get the gate so you don't have to get off again.”

Kara wrinkled her nose good-naturedly. She was used to being teased about her height, or rather, her lack of it. She hit the charts just under five foot one and hadn't grown an inch in over a year. “I may be short,” she challenged, “but I can outride you any day.”

Tia's eyes flashed. “You're on.”

The girls kept their horses at a walk through a patch of evergreens and across a small stream. The winding trail ended at the edge of a field. Bare and muddy all winter, the meadow was now a wide expanse of lush, green grass and wildflowers
.

“Race you,” Tia yelled. She spurred her horse into a gallop
.

Seconds later Kara was riding alongside, then past her. She loved the feel of the wind on her face, the horse's muscles leaping under her as they crossed the meadow with powerful strides
.

She knew the tears would come now, but it was okay to cry. Her friends, her counselor, even Dad had said so. And it was safe to cry while riding Lily. Lily wouldn't look at her with pity or turn away embarrassed like some people did.

Kara couldn't blame them, though. What do you say to someone whose mom has died? “I'm sorry.” “Give it time.” “Trust God.” None of those things helped.

When they were close to the tree line, she eased her mare into a canter, then into a slow trot. Tia rode up beside her, panting and laughing, patting her horse's neck. “Wow, that Lily can go. I don't see how you stay on her.”

If she noticed Kara's tear-stained face, she didn't say anything. “Patches is in a lather. We'd better keep them at a walk on the way back.”

Kara nodded. She'd miss Tia. Summer wouldn't be the same without her friend, but at least she'd have Lily.

T
HE HORSES HAD COOLED DOWN
by the time they reached the barn. Kara noticed a patch of dark clouds to the west and hurriedly unsaddled Lily. “Looks like we might have a storm.”

Tia led Patches toward a vacant stall. “Do you want me to stay? I've got an hour to kill before Pops gets home.”

Kara wanted to hug her. “Thanks. I feel so stupid. I used to love storms.”

Tia shrugged. “Don't worry about it. Stuff happens.”

They gave each horse a flake of hay and ran for the house, ducking hail-sized splats of rain.

They had just shut the door when the room darkened. Tia hit the light switch as thunder cracked outside the window, rattling the shade. The lights flickered. Kara froze, then felt Tia's hands squeeze her shoulders. “It's okay. It'll be over soon.”

Kara's laugh sounded more like a crow squawk. “If you weren't here, I'd probably be hiding under the bed.” She shivered. If Mom were here, they'd be curled up by the fire reading mystery novels and counting the seconds between flashes.

Lightning streaked across the window, and another crack of thunder sounded directly overhead. Kara ducked and dove for the couch. Tia sat down next to her. “Give yourself a break. It hasn't even been a year.”

Kara raised her head and saw the tears in Tia's eyes. “Oh, Tia, sometimes I miss Mom so much I wish I'd died too.”

“Well I'm really glad you didn't. Then I'd have to hang out with Krista Stoner, and she's, like, so up all the time. I'd never get in a good cry.”

Kara blinked, then burst out laughing.

The storm was over in less than half an hour. Tia helped her stamp envelopes, then they dug a suitcase and sports bag out of Kara's closet and began to pack her things.

Tia looked at her watch. “I gotta go.” She snatched up the stack of envelopes. “I'll mail these for you in the morning.”

Kara stuffed her green sweatshirt in the duffle bag and zipped it shut. “Thanks. You've been a big help already.” She drew a deep breath. “Eagle Lodge, here I come. I wish . . .”

She didn't finish the sentence. Tia already felt bad enough about not going. Kara didn't want to make things worse. Instead, she wrapped Tia in a friendly hug. “Come on, I'll walk you to the barn.”

Tia and Patches had just disappeared around the curve in the gravel road when Colin's truck skidded around the corner, kicking up rocks and flinging mud in all directions. He passed Kara, then came to a screeching halt a few yards down the drive.

The door hinges squealed as Colin jumped out and jogged back toward her. His eyes widened at her mud-speckled face and T-shirt. “Wakara, I'm sorry. I didn't see you. Are you okay?”

She wanted to yell at him.
No, I'm not!
Now she'd have to take a bath and do a load of laundry before she could get
dinner on the table. And she still wasn't finished packing. She sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Colin was beginning to look worried, and she realized she hadn't answered him. “I'm fine.” She managed a smile. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

Colin's face relaxed. “I've been out at the south pasture checking the stock.” He gestured toward the muddy truck. “They're all a little slow and overweight, but a few days up in the mountains and they'll toughen right up.”

Kara knew the saddle horses they would use for trail rides at the lodge had been in the barn most of the winter and had feasted on rich pasture grass all spring. She didn't doubt that they were out of shape.

Before she could think of anything more to say, a horn honked at the end of the drive.

Colin touched his hat. “I'm glad you're okay. See you in a couple of days.”

As he sprinted off to move his truck, Kara noticed the red-and-white sticker on the back bumper. LET GO, the first line read. Then underneath in bold letters, AND GET A GRIP ON GOD. She started to call out and ask him what it meant, but the truck was already moving down the road.

A dark blue Land Rover took its place in the drive. The passenger door flew open and a blond-haired, blue-eyed, six-year-old tornado launched himself at her.

“I'm home, Kara. What's for dinner?” Her little brother, Ryan, tugged her toward the house. “Come on. I gotta hurry and pack. We're leaving tomorrow. Whoa, you're sure dirty; wait 'til Dad sees. You're in big trouble!”

Kara laughed and untangled his hands from around her arm. “Don't worry about it. Did you thank Mrs. Crandall for the ride?” Ryan nodded. Kara waved, then turned back toward the house. She'd better get a move
on. Dad would be home any minute, and she hadn't even started the spaghetti
.

She helped Ryan wash his hands and got him started buttering the French bread, then she grabbed a quick shower and changed into clean sweats. By the time Dad walked in the door, the aroma of spicy tomato sauce and warm garlic bread wafted through the house.

“Hi, Sugar Bear, how was your day?” He bent and kissed the top of her head.

“Fine.” Kara winced at the dark circles around his eyes. He'd been working too hard. Like that was going to make him forget.

Since Mom died, Dad had been pouring all of his energy into running the ranch. He hardly ever sat and watched TV with them anymore, and she would see his light on late at night. “Doing book work,” he said. But Kara suspected he spent a lot of time just staring into space. More than once she'd gone into his office to check on him, and he hadn't even known she was there.

Ryan burst into the room, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Dad! I'm ready to go, see? There's even room for my videos.”

While Dad tried to explain to Ryan why he couldn't take his videos of old John Wayne movies, Kara finished setting the table. Poor Ryan. He wasn't much of a reader yet, and there was no TV at the lodge. No electricity either, except when they ran the generator. Ryan polished off his spaghetti and reached for the last slice of bread. Kara snagged the basket. “Eat some salad, Ry. You've already had three pieces.” She looked at Dad for support, but he was concentrating on the latest
Cattleman
magazine. She finally split the bread with Ryan and threw the last of his salad down the garbage disposal
.

She had tried to talk Dad into letting her ride in to the wilderness lodge with her brother Greg and the rest of the
herd, but he'd insisted she fly in tomorrow with him and Ryan.

“There's too much to do, Wakara,” he'd said. “I need your help getting the cabins in shape. Besides, if you don't come, who'll watch Ryan? We have to work together on this.”

He was right, but why did she always have to be the one responsible for Ryan?
Because there is no one else, that's why
.

She packed the last of her things and set her clothes out for morning. It was close to midnight, but she had a hard time falling asleep.

Last year, preparing for the trip to Eagle Lodge had been exciting. Mom had fixed their dinner, helped Ryan pack his clothes, and then read him a story. After he had settled down for the night, she had spent time in Kara's room talking about their plans.

Ten months ago all Kara had to worry about were her grades and which outfit she was going to wear. Now she had to take care of Ryan, do all Mom's chores, and do her schoolwork besides. It just wasn't fair.

Quit whining, Wako. No one ever promised you that life would be fair
. She used the nickname Greg had pinned on her when Dad was out of hearing range. She hated it, but lately it seemed to fit her state of mind.

She had a lot of work to do, but at least she could scratch the schoolwork for now. Yeah, three months in some of the most beautiful wilderness in the world, and all she had to look forward to was cleaning toilets and scrubbing floors.

R
YAN CHATTERED ALL THE WAY
to the small airport on the outskirts of Lariat. Kara tried to concentrate on the scenery. To their left, the rugged Wallowa Mountains shot straight up into the silver morning mist. She knew their jagged peaks were still spiked with snow
.