by Terri Farley
“Better than sitting alone while Kit meets his girlfriend and new horse in town, yeah?” Jonah asked him.
“Yeah,” Cade agreed.
Given the chance, Darby would have chosen time inside the Animal Rescue Society barn, watching Kit and his girlfriend, Cricket, bond with Kit’s newly adopted mustang, Medusa. On the other hand, maybe Cade hadn’t been invited.
The table was set on the lanai, one of Darby’s favorite spots on the ranch. The wide balcony overlooked hundreds of green acres of ranchland, grazed by horses and cattle of many colors.
An evening rainbow arched among the hills. Darby had just wished on it when Aunty Cathy said, “I seem to remember negotiating a deal to share dinner-cooking responsibilities. Not with you, Cade, but with these other three.”
“Mom, you won’t help your own cause by making dinners like this.” Megan held up a pinkish forkful. “I mean, if you make guava shrimp curry and I slap together Spam sandwiches, who’s going to show up on my nights?”
Darby nodded. She could follow directions to make a basic casserole, but the simplest thing on this table was rice. Even using a rice cooker, she couldn’t strike a balance between burning it brown and leaving it pale and soupy.
“Thanks for inviting me tonight,” Cade said.
Jonah gave an amused snort and Megan stuck out her tongue at Cade.
Darby tried to figure out what was different about Cade as, with the faintest of smiles, he helped himself to more macaroni salad.
As usual, Cade wore a roomy paniolo shirt of beige linen. It looked just like his others. Brown skin, brown eyes, blond hair in a tight paniolo braid—all that was the same. Darby couldn’t have explained what it was, but since he’d stood up to Manny, his abusive stepfather, there’d been a change in Cade.
He quit chewing and met her stare. Darby looked down at her plate.
“I’ll cook tomorrow,” she volunteered.
“Your mother will be here, and I want you to have time to talk with her,” Aunty Cathy said.
“How long is she staying?” Megan asked.
If Darby hadn’t been trying to look anyplace except at Cade, she might not have noticed Jonah’s fingers tightening on his fork.
Please let them get along, Darby thought, but she didn’t say it.
“Just the weekend, I think,” Darby said. “She mentioned she had to shoot an important scene on Wednesday.”
“I can’t help it,” Megan said. “I’m excited to meet a real star.”
“I’m glad she’ll be here for the ceremony at Babe’s,” Aunty Cathy said.
“What will we do with all that lovely money?” Megan stared off the lanai as if bags of gold floated near the pasture rainbow.
“I know what I’ll do,” Cade said.
“Yeah?” Jonah asked.
Cade nodded, flushed, and said, “I’m saving for land of my own.”
Jonah frowned, then cleared his throat.
“You know, as my hanai’d son, that…” His voice was constricted, as if something had wrapped around his neck.
Aunty Cathy leaned forward, forearms bracketing her plate, as if she could help.
“…you’re welcome here, forever.”
“Yeah,” Cade said.
“Would it be rude to ask if the Crimson Vale place belongs to your mom or Manny?” Darby asked.
“Sure it would,” Cade said, “but since I don’t know the answer, I guess that’s okay.”
It was then, as he tried not to laugh at her, that Darby realized it was Cade’s face that looked different.
“Did you shave?” she asked.
“Oh my gosh!” Megan put a hand over her eyes as if she was too embarrassed to look at Darby.
“What?” Darby yelped. Why would he be self-conscious about shaving?
“Are you six years old?” Megan asked.
“Mekana,” Jonah reprimanded softly.
“Sorry,” Megan apologized. “It’s just the very first time, I think, and that means our Cade is all grown-up.” When her sugary tone evoked no response from Cade, Megan moved to playfully sock his shoulder but Cade blocked the punch and gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Time for the news,” Jonah said, pushing back from the table. “C’mon, Cade, watch TV with me while the wahines clean up.”
“That means ‘the women,’ right?” Darby asked.
Aunty Cathy stood and began gathering plates from the table like a seasoned waitress. “Don’t let him get a rise out of you.”
“Why not?” Megan pretended to glare after Jonah as he turned on the television and settled into his favorite chair.
“I have pineapple whipped cream cake in the kitchen,” Aunty Cathy said.
“Maybe we won’t share,” Darby teased.
“I heard that,” Jonah called after them.
Stuffed full of dessert, Darby was leaning back in her chair on the lanai, mulling over what she should do about her mother’s diary, when Megan interrupted her thoughts.
“Unfair!” Megan shouted.
“What is?” Darby asked.
She stared at the girl she sometimes called “sis” and reconsidered the connection. Megan’s shout was so random, Darby had no idea what Megan was talking about.
“Didn’t you hear what he said?”
“He” who? Darby thought.
Aunty Cathy gestured toward the living room as Megan went on, “He’s saying something about two of the three young people being honored tomorrow helped save Moku Lio Hihiu’s wild horses during the flood. He left me out, even though I was over on Oahu representing my school.”
“…dramatic new rescue footage you’ll see only on Channel Two…” As the voice of Channel Two reporter Mark Larson floated to the lanai from the television in the living room, Darby understood.
“I’ve got to watch,” Darby said, and followed after Aunty Cathy and Megan as they left the lanai.
Megan sprawled on the floor in front of the television. Aunty Cathy sat on the couch without crowding Cade.
Not that he would have noticed, Darby thought. Sitting there with his gaze fixed on the television screen, hands resting on his knees, Cade looked hypnotized.
Darby stopped behind Jonah’s big chair. After one glimpse of the news report, she didn’t want to go closer.
She’d forgotten how awful the island had looked just after the tsunami. Shooting from the TV helicopter, the camera showed tobacco-brown water strewn with debris and dead animals.
When reporter Mark Larson, wearing his trademark Hawaiian shirt, filled the screen, Darby let out the breath she’d been holding.
“By morning, the kai a Pele, Pele’s tide—traditionally a punishment from her sister the sea goddess, angry because Pele poured lava into her realm—had receded.” The reporter spoke in a storyteller’s voice as the camera scanned the dawn sky, then dropped to show the wet, huddled horses.
“The wild herd had been stranded for twenty-four hours. Although the tsunami took some of them, the horses on the spit of lava rock were also prey to rain, sharks, and floating debris. Surrounded by danger, the horses were not about to come ashore on their own. Finally, they were rescued by dedicated equestrian volunteers.”
“Hoku!”
“Don’t tip me over, Granddaughter,” Jonah said when Darby bumped the back of his recliner at the sight of her horse on television.
It was weird to see Cade, Kit, and herself riding three across. Reflections of Joker, Navigator, and Hoku showed on the wet sand.
It was like a movie, except that she recalled images the camera didn’t show, like Kit tying down his Stetson with a stampede strap and Cade leaving behind his prized hala hat and green poncho, going barefoot in jeans and a white T-shirt into the wind and waves.
The camera pulled back to show an earthquake-damaged house, a flooded taro field, plastic fence set up to funnel the horses to safety, and finally the red trucks with firefighters beside them, waiting.
And then things really got weird. The view shifted to M
ark Larson inside a helicopter. He shouted over the rotors as he pointed toward a trail of white spume on the water below.
“And here comes another volunteer, there on the Jet Ski.” His voice deepened and took a reprimanding tone. “A misguided soul, to judge by our interview with the Animal Rescue’s expert. She indicated that the mechanical rescue of wild animals—wait, can you get that?” Mark Larson stopped his commentary to talk to the camera operator.
Suddenly there was a shot of Manny steering at high speed toward Hoku.
“Viewers, I have an unconfirmed report that the man on the Jet Ski is Manuel Billfish and the girl on horseback is Darby Kealoha, Lehua High School student and great-niece to ‘Babe’ Kealoha Borden.
“Mr. Billfish was ordered not to take a mechanized vehicle into the water during the rescue attempt. Harassment of a federally protected species, like the wild horse, is a felony.”
For a moment the sound grew too scratchy to understand, and even though she knew how this story ended, the sight of her frightened horse made Darby’s fingernails sink into the fabric of Jonah’s chair.
Seeing the events again, Darby remembered hating Manny. Her brave horse had tolerated strange weather, sounds, and smells, and then Manny had zoomed at her with a snarling metal beast.
Darby didn’t remember Hoku rearing. She didn’t remember falling.
“Hold a good thought for that young lady under the storm waters,” Mark Larson said on-screen, “and we’ll move in closer to help if we can.”
Megan took an audible breath and said, “You sure stayed under for a long time.”
Aunty Cathy’s gasp was almost a scream, as she pointed. A close-up showed a piece of corrugated iron rocking on Jet Ski–generated waves. It bounced about a foot into the air.
“That was you. I saw your hands, your head,” Aunty Cathy said. “That’s what bruised your head, that big piece of metal.”
“I don’t think so,” Darby faltered, but she touched her head, trying to remember.
For a split second, the camera showed Joker leaping waves. Cade hurled himself off the Appaloosa. Hair streaming loose, he hit the water.
“A woman is coming to Darby Kealoha’s rescue,” Mark Larson said, but the mutter that followed made it clear he’d realized his mistake.
The jiggling camera caught Cade’s ripped T-shirt before the focus widened to take in his hands. He gripped Hoku’s rein while he kept Darby’s head above the waves.
“I beg your pardon, viewers….”
If Mark Larson said anything interesting after that, no one heard. Everything was drowned out by Megan’s laughter. She’d clearly gotten a kick out of Cade being called a woman, but Darby was preoccupied with a slow-motion replay on the television.
“Crazy superhero, yeah?” Jonah said. He leaned toward the couch from his chair and gave Cade’s shoulder a shake.
“Naw,” Cade said. He looked at the floor as the TV reporter’s voice continued.
Darby watched herself act like a…what? She could only come up with an expression she’d read. She’d acted like an ungrateful wretch. Had she been so dizzy and bewildered, hypothermic, maybe, out there in the ocean, that she’d really shoved Cade away hard enough that he’d made a big white splash, so she could climb onto Hoku without help?
“I don’t remember it like that,” Darby said, not really talking to anyone until she turned toward Cade and said, “Thank you.”
Megan was still laughing her head off, so probably no one heard.
Except Cade.
“He mea iki,” he said, which she took for You’re welcome. Then, as the TV report ended, Cade grumbled, “I hope they never show that again.”
“Me too,” Darby said, but her mom had told her about news services picking up local stories and printing them in newspapers all over the world. TV news services must be the same.
That meant people all over Hawaii, maybe all over the world, would see Manny’s intentional harassment of Hoku. That was good. He’d stay in jail.
They’d also see her fall. Oddly, that didn’t embarrass her. What mattered was that Hoku, a mustang born free and wild, had stood by her human, just like she had today.
Yes! Excited chills raced down Darby’s arms. This was a dramatic story. Some news service might broadcast the story in Nevada. She could picture her friend Samantha Forster dancing in delight over the wonder of wild horses.
Darby’s smile faded as she realized worldwide viewers would see Cade ride to her rescue. She grimaced. That part, she could do without.
“Megan, it’s not that funny,” Aunty Cathy said, finally.
Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, Megan said, “Oh, Mom, it is, too. They thought Cade was a girl.” Another round of giggles shook her, but she held up a finger because she had more to say. “But the good thing is, Cade will have a chance to set the record straight tomorrow.”
“No,” Cade began.
“See if you kept that torn shirt, yeah?” Jonah teased.
The whole situation was a happy one, Darby told herself. Pouting because she looked like she’d nearly drowned instead of swimming like a champion was childish. She decided to leave the room before she ruined everyone’s fun.
“I’m going to go do the dishes,” Darby said, wheeling toward the kitchen.
“I’ll help,” Cade added.
“Me too.” Megan’s voice overlapped Cade’s and he shrugged.
“Then I’ll go hide in the bunkhouse. Hope Kit was too busy with Medusa to see that.” He pointed at the television, almost smiling.
Darby stood in the kitchen doorway, about to describe the black-and-white mare to Cade, as he sat on the entrance hall bench to tug on his boots.
“Okay?” Cade said under his breath without looking up.
Darby wasn’t sure what Cade meant. Was it okay he’d rescued her? She didn’t like being a damsel in distress any more than she liked being the wahine cleaning the kitchen, but Cade was standing taller than he had since she’d first met him.
Confronting Manny, and now this…
Still seated, Cade jerked down the cuffs of his jeans and raised his eyes to her. His jaw was set hard. “I know you woulda pulled yourself out.”
Darby noticed Megan walking toward the kitchen, still looking amused.
“Yeah, after I swallowed a couple gallons of salt water,” Darby said, then added, “Thanks for having my back, Cade, really.”
Cade stood, shrugged, and pulled his hat over his eyes, but not far enough to hide his flush. Then he shouldered past the front door and into the night before Darby had a chance to say anything about the mysterious mare.
Chapter Four
“My father treats me like a slave!”
The words in Ellen Kealoha’s high school diary were written in red ink that bled through the page. After reading that first sentence on the pages that had fallen out of the black leather book, Darby couldn’t stop.
“He says I don’t understand, but he won’t explain!!! When I beg him to, he walks away. Always. He can’t think of a good enough argument because I’m right when I tell him he’s too stingy to hire a ranch hand when he’s got a kid he can work half to death!!!
“Too bad if she’s a REALLY TALENTED ACTRESS. I wouldn’t even care about the work if he’d let me ACT. Mr. Taylor says I’m good and his new student teacher Mrs. Martindale said so, too.”
Darby looked up from the page for a second. Mrs. Martindale? Could it be the same Mrs. Martindale who was her Creative Writing teacher this year?
“He couldn’t come see me in the play because he had to stay home with Mom. Obviously, I get that, but I showed him my Anne Frank review and he was proud! He said to go ahead and try out again and he’d come see me. But what’s the use of auditioning for a play if he won’t let me stay after school for rehearsal? He makes me come home right away, every single day!”
Darby thought of Mrs. Martindale again. Even though her Creative Writing teacher had wrongfully accused her of plagiarism, she’d lat
er apologized. But that wasn’t what Darby was remembering.
When Mrs. Martindale had suggested Darby be on the staff of the school’s literary magazine, Jonah had asked if that met after school.
Mrs. Martindale had said yes, but added that the school was getting a new after-school activity bus for kids from outlying areas—like Darby.
And when Jonah made excuses, Mrs. Martindale had winked at Darby and insisted they’d work something out.
It was strange, Darby thought, that Jonah, who let her go on all kinds of adventures all over the island, had acted like she had to come straight home from school and do chores. Almost like it had been a reflex, left over from her mom’s high school days.
Was that possible?
Darby started to turn the page, but it was stuck to the next one. Carefully, she worked her fingertip around the edge. When the pages parted, she found pink flower petals, a scrap of newsprint, and just two sentences written on the page.
“I like being with the horses, I love Prettypaint and Ebony and all of them, but the real me is on that stage. Can’t I have both?”
Darby was smiling until she managed to read the small newspaper print on the short article.
“Alexandra Rojas Kealoha died at her home on ‘Iolani Ranch following a long illness. Wife of Jonah Kealoha, mother of Ellen Kealoha, daughter of famed soccer player Roberto ‘Boot’ Rojas and schoolteacher Ikena Kamakau Rojas, she was born on Moku Lio Hihiu….”
Darby’s gaze raced over the words three times before she realized she was reading her grandmother’s obituary. Her mom’s mother had died while Ellen had been a freshman in high school.
“One year older than me,” Darby whispered into her bedroom’s stillness. She closed her eyes against the burn of tears. Though she’d never known her grandmother, Darby couldn’t help putting herself in her mom’s place.
Once the pang of empathy faded, Darby looked at the obituary again. She studied her bloodlines like she would those of a horse. Then she got out her own diary, copied names, and drew a diagram of her heritage. It didn’t go back far, but it was cool that there were Hawaiian names in every generation. Rojas was Hispanic, but from which country? And Carter, her dad’s family, what kind of name was that? It would be fun to find out.
