by Terri Farley
“Technically eighth, but I take some tenth-grade classes, too,” he said.
Had Patrick Zink read even more books than she had? Bet on it, Darby thought. And he wasn’t ashamed to be smart.
The thought pleased Darby until she caught her mom looking between the two of them, smirking.
No googly eyes, Darby wanted to tell her mother, but that would have been embarrassing for all three of them.
So Darby just held her reins, leaned back against Navigator’s solid shoulder, and said, “Mom, I don’t have room for anything else in my life but horses.”
“That’s how I feel about exploring!” Patrick told her. “You’re going to hear that I’m accident prone—”
Darby didn’t admit she’d already heard. Instead, she blurted, “All I’ve heard about is your barbed-wire fences.”
“Really?” Patrick said it in a contemplative way, as if he’d never thought of their fences. Then he nodded, as if making a mental note, before he continued. “It’s not that I’m accident prone; it’s just that I do stuff. I love exploring. The last time I had a cast, I was lucky—”
Darby doubted many people had ever started a sentence that way.
“—it was on my left arm. I wrote on it, I was born for this.” He closed his eyes, savoring the words, until Mistwalker nudged him.
Patrick’s exploration fever was infectious. The vine-draped steps and structures tempted Darby to learn their secrets.
“My mom used to be in an explorers club,” Darby told Patrick.
When Patrick stared at her, wide-eyed, Ellen made a “settle-down” motion with her hands. “We were little kids, Darby.”
“Who else was in it?”
“No one you know,” Ellen insisted.
“That’s pretty implausible, Mrs. Carter. On this island, everyone knows everyone. Between the members of the Zink, Kealoha, and Kato clans, one of us knows someone from your club who’s still around.”
“Well.” Ellen put her hands on her hips and said, “If they’re responsible adults, they won’t talk about it.”
“And that means you won’t,” Darby confirmed.
“Right,” her mom said, but she looked past Darby at Patrick. He rubbed his hands together, as if anticipating a great meal. “Forget it.”
“Later, then,” Patrick said. He looked from Darby to his horse. “I usually climb onto her back from the platform.” He pointed to the thing Darby had been thinking of as a dock. “But it really is getting late. I’ll saddle and bridle her and maybe you can give me a boost up?”
“Sure,” Darby said, but she was watching her mother and the paint mare.
Mistwalker nuzzled Ellen’s hands until she rubbed behind the horse’s silvery ears.
Darby knew just what she should do with the reward money she’d received for returning Stormbird. She should buy Mistwalker for her mother. She’d only phoned Ellen for Mother’s Day, and that wasn’t much of a gift. Wow, not only would the mare be a dream come true for her mother, but Mistwalker belonged in Hawaii, not Pacific Pinnacles, so Ellen would have to agree that she, Darby, and their horses belonged together on Wild Horse Island.
The mare disrupted Darby’s fantasy with a loud sigh. Okay, so Patrick probably wouldn’t give her up. Still, it would be cool if Mom had a paint horse of her own.
“You sound like an old dog in the sun,” Ellen teased. She kept petting Mistwalker as she watched Patrick jog toward a ruined building. “That holds a big grinding wheel, if no one’s hauled it out.” As Patrick slipped into the structure, Ellen shook her head. “He’s not safe in there.”
When Patrick returned with a snaffle-bitted bridle and small saddle, Mistwalker backed away from Ellen and positioned herself in front of Patrick.
“That thing looks like it’s ready to fall down.” Ellen nodded at the old building. “I’m surprised it hasn’t been flattened by an earthquake or blown over in a storm.”
She wasn’t scolding him, just reminding him to be careful.
“I listen, when I’m in there. And my parents don’t care.”
Ellen uttered a sound of disbelief.
“Really,” Patrick insisted. “My dad’s into fishing, mostly, and my mom’s writing a book about the plantation. As long as I keep my grades up, they don’t care what I do. They say I’m a pretty low-maintenance kid, except for the doctor bills.”
Patrick scratched his arms through his long sleeves. Did he have some kind of rash, or were the mosquitoes out and biting?
“What kind of saddle is that?” Darby asked.
“An endurance saddle. My mom picked it because it looked like a cross between an English-style saddle and a Western one,” he said. “Mom didn’t know which I wanted, but she figured she’d be at least half-right.”
Mistwalker opened her mouth for the bit and rubbed her head against Patrick’s chest after he’d folded her ears into the bridle’s headstall. He dropped the reins and she stood waiting while Patrick tossed the saddle—made of nylon canvas instead of leather—onto her back.
“You two are quite the team,” Ellen said.
“She’s my best friend,” Patrick said. “But I can tell she likes you. It’s good for her to know other people. It really would be okay if you rode her.”
“I’ll remember that,” Darby’s mom told him.
The indulgent way she said it made Darby worry. Her mom didn’t sound like she planned to spend much time hanging around the forest, where Mistwalker would appear out of the fog.
Darby handed Navigator’s reins to her mom. Interlacing her fingers, she stood facing Mistwalker’s tail, with her shoulder near the filly’s.
Patrick was heavier than he looked, and Darby grunted with the effort needed to boost him into the saddle.
“Thanks.” He settled into the small saddle, then pulled a veil-like thing down from his pith helmet. “Mosquito netting,” he explained, and then waved. “See you at school!”
Listening to the filly’s hoofbeats as she watched Patrick go, Darby said, “That is not an ordinary kid.”
“Hawaii has its share of interesting personalities,” Ellen said.
Then, as Darby started to mount up, her mother stopped her.
When she spoke, her voice sounded rehearsed. “Darby, take your boot out of the stirrup. I have to tell you something.”
Chapter Eleven
“What do you have to tell me?” Darby asked.
She didn’t like the sound of this.
Her mom wouldn’t answer until Darby lowered herself back to the ground. She twisted the ends of her reins as she studied her mom’s face.
“It’s not bad,” her mom insisted. “In fact, what was that expression you and Heather used to use? Oh, I know. It’s a VGT.”
VGT meant Very Good Thing, and her mom looked lighthearted.
But Darby’s jaw tightened. She couldn’t help it.
Ignoring the reins they held, Ellen took both of Darby’s hands in hers, then asked, “Are you hyper-ventilating?”
“Maybe,” Darby admitted.
“Stop. Here’s my news: We’re not poor anymore.”
Not poor. When had they been poor? Didn’t all mothers spend phone time talking to the bank, landlord, and power company? And the Stormbird reward was for college, so Mom must have gotten another acting job.
“This isn’t a riddle, Darby. I’ll tell you what I’m talking about if you’ll listen.”
“Okay,” Darby said, but she still watched her mom’s eyes, wanting to know before she was told.
“Starting in August, I’ll be spending half the year in Tahiti.”
“Tahiti,” Darby echoed. That was where Ellen’s job was now.
“While the movie shoot was delayed by rain, the early footage was making the rounds in Hollywood and it was a hit. It’s gone from being a made-for-TV movie to a pilot for a new series. The producer loves the Tahitian light, color, tax advantages—and the cast.”
“Especially you,” Darby said.
“Including
me.”
But Ellen was being modest. Darby knew her mother would end up being the star. And a TV series meant a steady job, at least for a while.
“Since it’s being shot in Tahiti, you’ll be nearby.” Darby tried not to celebrate too soon, but her blood was carbonated with excitement.
“Fifty-fifty,” her mom said, releasing Darby’s hands. “Part of it will still be shot in the Hollywood studio, so we could keep our place back home, or—”
“We’re going to live in Hawaii!”
“I didn’t say that,” Ellen cautioned.
Darby forced herself to think past her exhilaration. She’d read that the secret to a convincing argument was slow delivery. You had to allow three seconds between each point you made. Three points, she remembered. And, you should use a low-pitched voice.
“I love my new school,” she said.
One, two, three.
“I’m healthier in Hawaii,” Darby pointed out.
One, two, three.
“I love Hoku and learning about horses.”
Darby took a deep breath. Slow and low was working. Her mom hadn’t interrupted yet.
So, why did she have to remember what Jonah had said at lunch?
“Mom, you know why else I have to stay, don’t you? How many people get apprenticed to a real-live horse charmer who’s training her to take over his ranch? That just doesn’t happen in real life! Except for Cade, of course, but—”
Ellen pointed a resolute finger at her, and said, “Remember that, Darby. It just doesn’t happen.” She stopped to let her words soak in. “The very idea that he’d turn the ranch over to you is absurd.”
What had gone so wrong that her mother really believed her father wouldn’t leave the ranch to her, his only grandchild? This had to be about something more than Jonah not letting Ellen stay after school for play practice.
Darby tried to recall all that Jonah had said at lunch, word for word.
Not next week, you know. But, eventually, Jonah had said. Didn’t her mom remember that?
“I think he meant later, when, you know…” Darby tried to speak slow and low, but the word absurd kept poking at her. “Who’s going to inherit it, then? Aunt Babe? Why not me?”
Navigator snorted and jerked his head high against the reins. Darby wondered if she’d been shouting. Probably, because her mother waited until she’d run out of words, then changed the subject.
“Here’s my plan,” Ellen said. “I know you have chores, but there are—what? Two or three cowboys on that ranch.”
“Three,” Darby said. “But they do lots more than I do. Besides taking care of horses, they work the cattle, check the water troughs, tend sick animals, act like mechanics and plumbers….”
Her mom didn’t seem to have heard anything but the number.
“That’s three more than there were when I lived at ‘Iolani Ranch, so Jonah can do without you for a couple days while you stay with me at Aunt Babe’s.”
Ellen left no wiggle room in that sentence, and she wore an “or else” expression, as if she expected Darby to refuse the chance to spend time with her!
With raised eyebrows, she waited, and even though Darby would’ve liked it better if her mother had stayed at the ranch, getting to know Jonah again, she knew that scheme might backfire. She loved both Mom and Jonah, but right now they were a volatile combination.
“That would be so much fun, Mom!” Darby said, and she meant it. She wasn’t being selfish, either. She could get her mom to say yes about staying in Hawaii just as easily at Sugar Sands Cove Resort as she could on ‘Iolani Ranch. Maybe easier, without Jonah as a distraction.
Later, she’d work on bringing father and daughter back together.
Ellen’s eyes sparkled and she laughed with delight. She squeezed Darby with one arm just as a niggling worry popped into Darby’s mind.
“Hoku still hates men, so I’ll have to see if Megan or Aunty Cathy can take care of her.”
“Is there any doubt in your mind they’ll do it?” her mom said against Darby’s ponytail. “They’re both wonderful, kind people. I can see that Megan would do anything for you, and Cathy would do anything for Jonah.”
That was kind of a weird way to put it, but Darby let her mom’s words lie.
Leaving ‘Iolani Ranch was entirely too easy.
Jonah wasn’t in sight. Cade took their horses and insisted on cooling them out and putting away their tack. Hoku wouldn’t come to the fence to say good-bye.
While Darby packed an overnight bag, Ellen talked to Aunty Cathy, and Megan offered to take over Darby’s chores and care for Hoku.
Megan leaned against the door frame of Darby’s room. Darby sat in the middle of her bed, deciding which book to take along.
“This is only for a couple days, yeah?” Megan asked.
“Only one, if I can swing it,” Darby whispered.
“You’re crazy,” Megan told her. “If I could stay at Sugar Sands, all expenses paid—”
“Do you want to come?” Darby asked. Excitement pulled her up onto her knees. “That would make it—”
“Quiet,” Megan shushed her. “Really, this is one time I’m so much more mature than you. I just don’t get it.”
Megan’s words rankled, but Darby knew she was right. There was a bigger difference between eighth and tenth grades than she’d thought—on handling parents, at least.
She sat back down, arms wrapped around her legs, and waited for Megan to tell her what to do.
“You want your mom to let you stay here, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Go with her for as long as she wants—”
“But what about school?”
“If you think she’d really take you out of school for a vacation, she’s cooler than I thought,” Megan joked.
“I guess she wouldn’t.”
“When she’s not waiting for Jonah to”—Megan gestured vaguely outside—“act like he does, and when she relaxes a little, she might see that this—that here—is what’s best for you.” Megan swallowed hard enough that Darby heard her, then looked away.
Touched by her friend’s emotion, Darby was starting to go hug her when Megan held out a hand, and said, “Don’t even.”
Darby laughed, then realized she hadn’t told Megan about her mom’s news.
“Wait, I have to tell you about the TV show!”
“What TV show?”
“Swear you won’t tell?”
Megan crossed her heart, and that was all the encouragement it took for Darby to repeat what her mother had told her.
Megan’s eyes widened with each new detail.
“Oh my gosh. That is so cool!”
“And it’s shot half on Tahiti and half in Hollywood, so it only makes sense…”
“What’s it called?”
“Birthright, I think. Mom doesn’t like it, but it’s just a working title, and better than the first one, which was Tahitian Sunrise or something. She said it sounded like the name of fingernail polish.”
“Oh my gosh,” Megan repeated.
“Darby?” her mom called down the hallway.
“I’m almost ready,” Darby said. She zipped her bag, jumped off the bed, and this time she did hug Megan. “Mahalo, Sis.”
Darby almost made it to her mother’s watermelon-colored rental car without crying.
But Jonah rode Biscuit up from the lower pastures, galloped him down the driveway, and pulled him to a stop.
Darby glanced around, sure she’d missed some emergency. There was no smoke, no earthquake-shaken buildings. No runaway horses, cows, or goats.
Jonah seemed to have galloped up here just to say good-bye.
Darby dropped her suitcase at the car and hurried toward him, but her mom, out of riding clothes and back in her dress, leaned against the car with her arms crossed, watching.
Smelling of leather and horse sweat, her grandfather caught her in a hug.
“When you come home we’ll work on that bronc stop, ye
ah? Don’t want your little Hoku more confused than she has to be.”
“It’s only for a day. Or two.” Darby gulped.
“I know that,” he said. Setting her away from him, Jonah looked at the winged heart necklace that Darby still wore.
She tried to think of Jonah pounding the table and yelling at Mom. She tried to be angry because he’d called her a timid mouse. Nothing stopped the tears from gathering in her eyes, or her hand from closing over the gold heart charm.
Because she couldn’t talk without crying, Darby flashed him a Shaka sign and headed back to the car.
“He’s making me the bad guy,” her mom muttered.
“Ellen!” Jonah had heard, too.
She stopped with the car door half-open.
Jonah strode closer. “I don’t want to make you anything but happy. You just won’t allow it.”
Ellen was facing away from her, but Darby saw her mother’s hand tremble, then grab onto the car door, holding herself back from another fight.
“See you later,” her mom said lightly, but she slammed the car door.
My heart hurts, Darby thought. She hadn’t felt like this since she was five years old, during her parents’ divorce. She tried not to cry.
Ellen revved the car’s engine. Darby didn’t know if she did it on purpose, or because she was unfamiliar with starting it.
Either way, the sound wasn’t loud enough to block out Jonah’s voice. Darby wished it had been. As she looked out the car’s back window, she saw him kick at the dirt. And then she heard her grandfather swear.
Chapter Twelve
It didn’t make sense.
Darby didn’t know why her mother and Jonah were still fighting. Obviously she hadn’t read enough of her mom’s diary to know what had started this feud.
Darby stared out the car window. Her chances of staying in Hawaii would improve a lot if her mom and Jonah got along.
Jonah had made his teenage daughter stay home and do chores. Darby tried to see it from his side. He was working a five-thousand-acre ranch alone. He’d just lost his wife. He needed the help and probably wanted company. A school play must have seemed pretty trivial by comparison.
