Spring of the Poacher's Moon

by Angela Dorsey

  Chapter 13

  But actually, no sleep. The day’s events raced through my head and then Kestrel, who wasn’t as tired as I was, started whispering questions. I told her all about finding the moose calf and bringing him home, about Charlie stealing Twilight and having to convince him that she wanted to stay with us, and about the scary stuff in the poachers’ camp. The two hours sped by.

  We continued our conversation during and after the feeding, but Kestrel was finally getting tired too. We fell asleep about half an hour before the midnight feeding, and it was sooo hard to wake up. But we did it. I stumbled around, heating milk and pouring it into the bottle, and then watched Kestrel feed him. He slurped and gulped noisily, and then drifted off again. Kestrel and I tromped silently back to the house and climbed into our sleeping bags. I’m sure I was asleep two seconds later.

  The 2 a.m. feeding was even more arduous, except that I came up with a great plan. Mom agreed, so Kestrel and I moved our sleeping bags out to the stall and crawled inside. Kestrel started to snore, and then the next thing I knew, someone was hitting me. At first, I thought Kestrel must’ve crawled out of her sleeping bag the moment my eyes closed to play a joke on me, but when I looked up, a long furry nose was whacking me. Not Kestrel. Thumper. His dark eyes stared down, hungrily. I shone my flashlight on my watch. Only an hour and a half had passed. So much for my great idea. We were going to get even less sleep this way.

  I warmed the milk in a pan on the little wood stove in the barn as the calf woke Kestrel.

  “Leave me alone, Evy,” she mumbled.

  I snickered from the barn stove where I stirred the milk. Like I’d hit her while she was sleeping!

  “Evy! Stop it!” Then she must have realized who was actually bumping her because she stopped yelling. She groaned and made a weird growling noise, then stood. She appeared over the stall partition with straw sticking to her everywhere, especially her hair. She looked hilarious and I was about to laugh and point when she started giggling. I looked down. I was covered with straw too. The pale strands seemed to especially like my new flannel pyjamas. My hand flew to my hair to discover enough straw for a couple of birds to build a nest and raise a large brood.

  This time, Thumper drank an entire bottle before falling back asleep, and I got to sleep for three and a half hours before he butted me again, this time much harder. Apparently, he was getting his strength back.

  Again I warmed the milk while Thumper woke Kestrel. We were falling into a routine, except this time, before coming to the stove to fill the bottle, Kestrel walked over to the barn doors and peered outside.

  “Is Mom up yet?” I asked her, guessing that she was looking at the cabin.

  She looked again. “I think so. There’s smoke coming from the chimney.”

  “I bet she’s making pancakes for us.”

  While Kestrel fed Thumper, I fed and watered the horses. There was grass in their pasture, but I wanted it to grow higher. And besides, we actually had hay left over from the winter. We needed to use it up before we bought the next year’s hay from Kestrel’s family.

  When I returned to Thumper’s stall, Kestrel was already gone. Weird. She was usually as hard to pull away from the animals as I was.

  “Evy, hurry up,” she called from outside the barn.

  “Wow, you’re hungry,” I replied, then gave Thumper a final head scratch. “Good boy,” I murmured. “You’re a tough little fellow, aren’t you?”

  As if to prove my words correct, he did a funny hop and jump, then started to explore his stall.

  Deliciously, I was right – Mom was making pancakes, the best kind ever, with little bits of apple in them and lots of cinnamon.

  “Those smell awesome!” I said when I entered the cabin, making Mom smile. I expected Kestrel to say something similar and when she didn’t, I turned. She was still outside, looking down our driveway. Okay, so now this was just plain strange.

  “Thanks,” said Mom. “They’re almost ready. Why don’t you set the table?” I hurried to comply. The sooner the table was set, the sooner we could eat.

  “Oh, yum,” said Kestrel, finally coming inside. “Can I help?”

  “Sure,” said Mom. “We need the maple syrup and butter on the table too.”

  “Did you save the apple cores?” I asked Mom as she carried the delicious pancake mountain to the table. Rusty and Cocoa loved apple cores, and I assumed Twilight would too. She’d never eaten an apple in her life, so she might be a bit leery to begin with, but knowing her and her stomach, she’d quickly become addicted. Then she’d start rooting through everything, searching for apples.

  On second thought, maybe the apple cores should go in the compost.

  “So how are you girls feeling this morning?”

  “Tired,” Kestrel volunteered.

  “I think we can wait longer between feedings now,” I added. “He’s getting strong fast, and I have the bruises to prove it.” I shoved a huge forkful of maple-syrup-slathered apple pancake into my mouth and closed my eyes to enjoy my first heavenly bites.

  “Bruises?” asked Mom.

  I explained Thumper’s ingenious method of waking us, which Mom thought was hilarious. Then her face became businesslike. Uh, oh. “I want you to tell me everything about yesterday again, Evy. Right from the beginning, starting with finding the moose calf, and I’ll interrupt with questions.”

  I almost choked. This, during my heavenly pancake experience? I glanced at Kestrel – she was staring out the window. What was up with her? “But I’m hungry,” I mumbled to Mom through my mouthful, then swallowed.

  Mom smiled. “Okay, as soon as we’re done then.”

  I took another bite, much smaller this time, so I wouldn’t finish too quickly. Then I elbowed Kestrel. “What’s happening? What are you waiting for?”

  She looked at me, guilt all over her face. “What do you mean?”

  She really needed to work on her innocent expression. “You kept looking outside when we were in the barn,” I said. “And now you’re staring out the window. You’re waiting for something. It’s obvious.”

  Mom looked up with interest, her eyes searching Kestrel’s face. “Are your parents coming over today?” she asked.

  Kestrel looked down at her pancake. “Don’t make me tell you. I’m not allowed to say anything.”

  “So there is something,” I said. “I knew it!”

  Loonie barked and we all turned toward the big window overlooking the meadow. Kestrel’s horse, Twitchy, the only horse in the pasture, stared toward our rutted driveway, her ears forward. Loonie barked again, her intruder alarm bark.

  And then we heard it – a vehicle. Someone was driving up to the cabin. A horse neighed, a horse I didn’t recognize, and Twitchy replied. Then another vehicle approached, with a louder engine. It sounded like an army was arriving.

  “You know who it is?” Mom asked Kestrel.

  Kestrel nodded. “I was sworn to secrecy. I’m sorry.”

  Mom’s face turned pale.

  “But they’ve come for a good reason,” she added.

  “Who are they?” asked Mom.

  “Mom, Dad, Caroline, and Jon, her son. The Robinsons; they have five kids. Troy and his brother. Troy was going to try to find Charlie too.”

  “And why are they here?” Mom sounded like she was about the have a heart attack.

  “To help.”

  The truck stopped outside and assorted voices told Loonie to hush. Not that she would – the old girl was having too much fun. This was more people than had ever come to our house, multiplied about ten times.

  “It’s okay, Mom. Don’t worry. These are just our neighbours and some people from town. They’re not bad people.”

  Mom looked at me, and I saw fear in her eyes. Real fear. What could our neighbours do to hurt her? “You don’t understand,” she said. “What if…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered not to say anything that might hint at her secret. I sighed heavily. A few more words could have told m
e volumes.

  “I’m really sorry,” Kestrel murmured again. She sounded like she was going to cry.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said firmly, trying to take control of the emotions swirling around Mom and Kestrel. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Kestrel,” I said. “Right, Mom?”

  Mom pushed herself up from the table, looking stiff.

  “Right?” I repeated, when she didn’t say anything.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then opened them. “Evy’s absolutely right. There’s nothing to be sorry for, Kestrel. I’m the one who should apologize. You and your family are wonderful neighbours. I’m sorry I overreacted.” She looked toward the door with dread.

  “What’re they coming to help us with?” I asked.

  “The addition for your cabin. It was Mom’s idea. She thought you’d like the help, so she went around to the other ranches yesterday. A lot of people said they’d come. They’ve all heard about you and want to be friendly, that’s all.”

  “Awesome,” I said. And it was. I was totally into visitors.

  Another vehicle door slammed, and another horse whinnied. I reached out to the new horse with my mind – it too was a stranger. And so were the four other horses being ridden into our yard. So Charlie hadn’t come. I hoped he’d made it to town in time for the police to catch the guide and poachers last night, but maybe he hadn’t.

  Someone knocked at the door. I looked at Mom and she nodded, then arranged a smile on her face. She was going to make the best of it. I was proud of her. If she’d freaked, the entire experience would’ve been destroyed.

  Now I could enjoy this day to the max. Having this many people over was almost like a party. And my birthday was in just a few days. Thirteen years – yay!