The Mystery of Misty Canyon

by Carolyn Keene

  “You mean start riding in rodeos again?”

  “Why not? There’s a huge rodeo planned for the Fourth of July in Boise, Idaho. The biggest ever. The prize money is the best it has ever been. If I can win at Boise, I can make the back payments on the loan. And that’s not all—the winner will star in a series of commercials and maybe even get a part in a movie. I could tour nationally and save this place with the money I’d make.”

  “That would be great!” Nancy said.

  A sharp clanging noise rang through the house.

  Tammy glanced at her watch. “Supper’s on, and we don’t want to keep Peggy waiting. I promised her I’d help serve tonight. Besides, I shouldn’t be telling you all my troubles.”

  Nancy followed Tammy into the dining hall, stopping at the entrance to introduce Nancy to the tall, silver-haired ranch foreman, Hank West. He acknowledged Nancy’s smile with a curt nod. Nancy saw that George was already seated at a long table.

  “What’s keeping Bess?” Nancy asked, sliding into the next seat.

  “I don’t know. While I was in the shower, she told me she was going to take a look around.”

  “Maybe I’d better go find her,” Nancy said. “If she doesn’t hurry, she’ll miss dinner.”

  But before Nancy had a chance to stand up, a shriek of terror shattered the still evening air!

  2

  Renegade

  Nancy leapt to her feet and dashed out of the house. As she raced across the yard, she heard another blood-curdling scream. It was coming from the direction of the stallion barn.

  It was Bess. She was trapped, flattened against the rough boards of the stallion corral by a huge, muscular black stallion. He reared menacingly. His dark eyes were wild, and his sweaty coat gleamed blue in the glow of the security lamps.

  Renegade! Nancy thought fearfully. Her heart leapt to her throat.

  “Watch out!” Tammy cried from behind as Nancy vaulted the fence.

  The stallion tossed his head, and his hooves slashed through the air only inches away from Bess’s face. Nancy waved her arms to distract the angry stallion, and Bess slid toward her friend.

  As the horse reared again, Nancy grabbed Bess’s arm. “Let’s get out of here!” she yelled, dragging Bess to safety. Tammy shut the gate behind them.

  “Th-thanks,” Bess gasped.

  “Are you okay?” Nancy asked.

  “I—I think so.” Bess shivered as she stared at the horse.

  “What’s going on?” Hank West demanded, his boots crunching on the gravel as he ran to the paddock. “What were you doing in there?” He turned angrily to Bess. A group of guests had gathered around.

  “The gate was open,” Bess said. “I-I took a walk. I thought this was a shortcut back to the house.”

  “The gate was open?” Hank repeated. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes!”

  Nancy stood close to her friend. “Maybe one of the hands forgot to latch it.”

  “No way! The first rule at a ranch is to close all gates and doors,” Hank said, calming down a little, his brows drawn over his eyes in concern. “Are you all right?” he asked Bess.

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  “Good.” Realizing the guests had followed him and were watching the scene with curious eyes, Hank forced a tired smile. “Come on, folks, the show’s over. Let’s go back to dinner.”

  Mike Mathews led the murmuring group away, and Hank’s gaze swung back to the three friends. “You, too. All of you,” he said quietly as he strode briskly into the paddock to help Tammy with Renegade.

  “Before I go back, I’d like to talk to Tammy,” Nancy whispered to her friends.

  “Why?” George asked.

  “I’ve got a funny feeling that the gate was left open on purpose,” Nancy said. Something didn’t seem right to her. Too many people at the ranch had made cryptic remarks about Renegade. And now the dangerous stallion had almost injured Bess!

  “Why would anyone leave the gate open?” George asked.

  “That’s what I’d like to find out,” Nancy replied, watching Bess’s color return. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Nothing that a double cheese and pepperoni pizza wouldn’t fix,” Bess said with a wavering smile.

  George grinned, glad to see that Bess was back to her usual self. “Well, ma’am,” she drawled with a wink, “I’m afraid all we’ve got here is buffalo steak and black coffee.”

  Bess made a face. “I bet Peggy has something better than that,” she said. “Like dinner!”

  Nancy smiled. “I knew it! You’ve already made friends with Peggy.”

  “Someone had to help in the kitchen while you two were out exploring,” Bess said. “Besides, we have to help her later in the week. Remember?”

  “How could I forget?” George groaned. “I hate working in the kitchen!”

  Nancy’s blue eyes twinkled. “This is going to be better than I thought—Bess on a horse and George wearing an apron! Remind me to keep my camera handy.”

  George chuckled. “That’s right. And Nancy Drew with no mystery to solve. This is one for the record books.” George and Bess turned toward the house.

  “I’ll see you later,” Nancy said. Waving to her friends, she ignored Hank’s suspicious glare and leaned against the fence. She watched in fascination as Tammy deftly snapped a lead rope to the spooked stallion’s halter and began walking Renegade in a small circle. The horse snorted and pawed as he tried to yank the rope from Tammy’s hands, but she spoke softly to him.

  “Your friend could have been seriously hurt,” Hank said as he approached Nancy again. “This horse is a killer.”

  “A killer?” Nancy repeated. “What do you mean?”

  Before he could answer, Tammy had led the agitated stallion to the gate. “Renegade never killed anyone,” she argued.

  The horse neighed. Lather glistened on his inky coat, and his eyes were rimmed with white.

  Hank’s gaze narrowed on Renegade. “Believe me, his name fits. That horse is wild, nothing but trouble. Stay away from him.” Hank’s face softened as he turned to Tammy. He took the lead rope from her hands. “I’ll take care of this devil. You take care of her.” He nodded in Nancy’s direction.

  Renegade danced nervously, but Hank jerked hard on the lead rope, forcing the horse to follow.

  Frowning, Tammy left the paddock and locked the gate. “Is your friend all right?” she asked anxiously.

  “Just a little shaken up, I think.”

  “I don’t blame her. Renegade can be terrifying.” She offered Nancy a friendly smile. “But he’s not a killer. Hank is stretching the truth a little. Hank gets a little gruff, especially when things don’t go just right. He’s as worried as I am about the ranch. And he’s not fond of Renegade.”

  “Why not?”

  “He blames Renegade for Dad’s death.” Tammy leaned over the top rail of the fence, and her eyes followed the retreating stallion as Hank led him to the stables.

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said, “but the problem is Renegade’s temper. A few years ago, in Renegade’s rodeo days, he was billed as the horse no man could ride. The saying was that a man could rent saddle space on Renegade, but soon he’d go flying. My dad offered a lot of money to any cowboy who could stay on Renegade’s back for one minute. No one ever won the money.” Tammy’s face clouded. “One day, Dad tried to ride Renegade. He was thrown and crippled for life.”

  “I see,” Nancy murmured. “Is that when you decided to retire?”

  Tammy nodded. “Dad really needed help here, though he wouldn’t admit it. Hank persuaded me to return to the ranch. Despite what you may think, Hank has a heart of gold.”

  Nancy wasn’t so sure. “So Hank blames Renegade for the accident.”

  “Right. But it wasn’t really Renegade’s fault. Dad should never have attempted to ride him. Some people, like Hank, wanted Renegade destroyed. Dad wouldn’t hear of it. He claimed that Renegade would become
the most valuable asset of this ranch because the horse was such a tough bronc and would provide good breeding stock. Dad thought Renegade’s foals would become great rodeo horses.”

  “And have they?”

  “Oh, yes! Renegade’s first foals are three-year-olds and some of the best rodeo stock in the state,” Tammy said proudly. “It was Dad’s dream to sell Renegade’s offspring to pay off the loan on this ranch. Unfortunately, Dad died last year, before his dreams could come true.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nancy whispered.

  “So am I. I miss him. And Dad was the one who really understood the ranching business. Thank goodness for Hank West. He was Dad’s best friend.” Tammy pushed away from the fence and squared her shoulders. “Come on into the stables. I want to show you something.”

  Nancy followed Tammy inside. Tammy snapped on the light, and several stallions snorted. She called them by name and patted the velvet-soft muzzles that were thrust over the stall doors as she passed. Following Tammy, Nancy also rubbed the horses’ noses and looked into their liquid brown eyes.

  They stopped at the end stall. Standing on a bed of straw was Renegade, but now he seemed calm, with no trace of fire in his eyes. “Meet Twister,” Tammy said proudly, stroking the black stallion’s forehead. “This is the horse I plan to ride in the Independence Day Rodeo. Without him, I probably wouldn’t have much chance of winning.”

  “But he looks just like—”

  “Renegade. His twin.”

  “Twin?” Nancy repeated.

  “It’s rare, but it happens. Unlike Renegade, Twister has the temperament of a kitten—until he’s in the rodeo ring. Then he does just what I ask him to do and shows his spirit. He’s a real contender, aren’t you, boy?” Tammy slipped her hand inside the pocket of her jeans jacket and pulled out a small apple, which she offered to the horse. “Most of the time he’s a lamb, but he can really get fired up in the competition. It’s almost as if he knows what’s expected of him.”

  “How do you tell the horses apart?” Nancy asked. “Just by the difference in their personalities?”

  “That’s a big part of it,” Tammy said with a laugh. “Actually, Twister and Renegade aren’t identical. See that tiny white spot on his right front fetlock?”

  Nancy peered into the stall and noticed the tiny crescent-shaped mark above the horse’s hoof. “Fetlock? You mean the joint between his knee and hoof?”

  “Right—on that tuft of hair. Renegade doesn’t have any white markings, but Twister has that mark. Also, both horses wear halters with name plates.”

  “Isn’t Twister valuable?” Nancy asked.

  “Very—but Renegade’s the proven sire. His foals have shown far more promise than Twister’s.”

  Twister took a step toward Nancy and pushed his head across the rails. Coal black and tall, he was a beautiful animal. Nancy patted him on his sleek neck, and the big stallion nudged his nose into her arm.

  Tammy smiled. “He likes you. Come on. We’d better get to dinner.” She snapped off the lights.

  As they walked across the yard to the house, Nancy asked, “Who do you think left the gate open?”

  “I don’t know.” Tammy shook her head.

  “Has it ever happened before?”

  “Once or twice,” Tammy admitted, “but always because one of the guests forgot to latch it. It was probably just an accident.” She shrugged. “Let’s go inside. I want to see your friend and apologize for her encounter with Renegade.”

  • • •

  “I’m not sure about this,” Bess said, eyeing the horses warily. Though the trail horses seemed docile enough, she was still shaken up from her scare the night before.

  “Don’t worry. They’ll find the right horse for you,” Nancy said, offering Bess an encouraging smile.

  The girls and the rest of the guests were leaning against a fence the next morning as the stable hands led the horses into a large corral.

  “You’ll each be responsible for your own horse,” Mike Mathews said. “So I’m going to show you how to saddle, bridle, and mount your animal. Then we’ll take a short ride. Has anyone here ever ridden before?”

  Nancy, Bess, and George raised their hands, and they were placed in a group with Dr. Hobart from Boston. His wife and daughter were in another group along with a family from Kansas and Sam and Ellen Anderson, a couple from Chicago.

  Mike assigned each guest a saddle and a horse. He handed Nancy the reins to a buckskin gelding named General H. “You lucked out with this one,” Mike said. “He’s got spunk. He’s one of the best horses on the ranch. Tammy said you have a way with horses and insisted you ride the General.”

  “Good.” Nancy patted General H’s tawny back. “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

  While Nancy tightened the cinch around the gelding’s belly, Mike helped George, Bess, and Dr. Hobart with their mounts. George wound up astride a bay mare named Whirlwind, who sidestepped anxiously. Bess clung to the saddle horn of her palomino mare, Marshmallow, even though the horse was standing patiently in place.

  Tall in the saddle of his own horse, Mike led the others along a dusty, well-worn trail. The path wound through thick stands of pine trees and across a shallow, gurgling creek. The horses picked their way along the trail easily, walking steadily and occasionally breaking into a trot.

  On the way home, Mike allowed his group to let their horses stretch their legs.

  General H leapt forward, his long legs moving effortlessly as Nancy leaned over his shoulders. The wind caught in her reddish blond hair and rushed past her face as General H raced across the field, hurdled the creek, and landed with a thud on the far bank. By the time they reached the barn, General H had outdistanced even Mike’s horse, and Nancy felt a flush on her cheeks.

  “You’re quite a horsewoman,” Mike observed as he pulled up behind her.

  “It’s easy on this one,” Nancy said, patting General H’s shoulder.

  A movement in a nearby corral caught her attention. In the paddock, Renegade was running and bucking, though no one was riding him. Even in broad daylight, the black horse seemed dangerous. “Who do you think left the gate open last night?” Nancy asked.

  Mike’s smile fell a little. “How would I know?” he asked. “I was at dinner.”

  “So were all the guests,” Nancy pointed out.

  “Maybe one of the new stable boys—or your friend,” Mike suggested just as George’s mount, Whirlwind, slid to a stop.

  The spirited little mare danced sideways as George jumped to the ground.

  “Where’s Bess?” Nancy asked.

  George grinned and slapped the dirt from her hands. “I don’t know. Whirlwind left Bess and Dr. Hobart in the dust.”

  Mike shaded his eyes with his hands and stared across the dry field, frowning. “They should have been in sight by now. I’d better go check on the rest of the group. Can you handle cooling your horses?”

  “No problem,” Nancy replied. “Unless you want us to help you.”

  “No. Just tell Tammy where I am. I’ll be back soon.” He climbed into the saddle. Pressing his heels into his horse’s ribs, Mike leaned forward. His mount thundered away.

  As they walked their horses back to the barn, Nancy asked George, “Who do you think left the gate open last night?”

  “Oh, no you don’t, Nancy,” George said. “You’re not dragging me into a mystery. As far as I’m concerned, someone just didn’t latch the gate properly. It was no big deal.”

  “Maybe.” But Nancy wasn’t convinced. Her mind was still turning over the possible explanations when she noticed a tall young woman with platinum blond hair walking toward them. The woman was wearing jeans, a silver-trimmed western shirt, a red scarf, and a white hat.

  “Hi,” the young woman called brightly, flashing perfect teeth. “Have you seen Mike? I’m Stella Baines, a friend of his.”

  Nancy introduced herself and George, then said, “Mike should be back in a few minutes.” She allowed General H on
e small drink of water before she set him free in the pasture reserved for the riding stock. The buckskin took off, kicking up his heels and joining the herd.

  Stella’s mouth thinned, and she glanced at her watch. “I don’t have much time. I promised Dad I’d be home soon to practice.” She looked across the fields as if hoping Mike would suddenly appear.

  “Are you going to ride in the Independence Day Rodeo?” George asked as she opened the gate for Whirlwind. The bay sprinted across the field to join General H.

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” Stella said. She beamed as brightly as the silver buckle on her belt, until she saw Tammy walking quickly their way.

  “Hi,” Tammy called to Stella before turning to Nancy and George. “Where’s the rest of the group?”

  “Still on their way,” Nancy replied, noticing how Stella’s smile fell. “Mike went back to make sure there wasn’t any trouble.”

  “I hope not,” Tammy said.

  “What’s this I hear about you entering the rodeo circuit again?” Stella asked.

  “I haven’t got much choice,” Tammy said, gazing anxiously at the horizon. “My first entry will be at the Independence Day Rodeo in Boise.” She squinted into the bright afternoon sun. “Maybe I should go after Mike,” she said.

  Stella glanced at her watch again, then said, “When you see him, let him know I’m looking for him, okay? I’ve really got to get home!” Without saying goodbye, she turned on her heel and stomped across the lot to her pickup. She wheeled out of the parking lot in a spray of gravel.

  “She didn’t seem too happy about your coming out of retirement,” Nancy observed.

  “She probably doesn’t like the idea of having to compete with me again. Her father’s ranch is only a few miles down the road, and we’ve been rivals ever since we were kids.” Tammy sighed. “Since Mike started working here, Stella’s been hanging around a lot.”

  “Oh, look! Here they come!” George cried.

  Turning, Nancy watched as the rest of the group straggled in. Bess was near the end of the group, but her cheeks were rosy and her eyes bright with excitement.