Heartbreak Bronco

by Terri Farley

  Knee-high sunflowers bordered the path leading up to the new bunkhouse. Gram had planted the flowers among the boulders that edged the path. Sam thought they looked cute and cheerful, but neither Amelia nor Crystal noticed.

  The bunkhouse smelled of fresh-sawed pine. Wood stain had been brushed on to give the boards a golden glow. Compared to the cowboys’ bunkhouse, it looked like a vacation spot, no matter what Crystal said.

  “Good night, Blaze,” Sam said as they reached the bunkhouse door, but the dog didn’t return to the ranch house.

  Instead, he flopped down with a grunt across the sunflower-lined path. No one would leave without Blaze noticing.

  Sam opened the door and flicked on the light as they went inside.

  Instantly, Crystal crowded past.

  “I’m first in the bathroom,” she said.

  “Go ahead,” Amelia was saying as the door slammed shut.

  There’s a shock, Sam thought, sarcastically, but she didn’t say it.

  Right away, Amelia settled in a corner. Sitting cross-legged on one of the two colorful floor pillows Brynna had bought, She pulled out her cell phone and began tapping the keypad.

  “What are you playing?” Sam asked.

  “It’s new,” Amelia said without looking up. “I doubt you’d know it.”

  Neither girl was very polite, Sam thought. Though manners weren’t something she thought about much, it was easy to notice when they were missing.

  She saw that Crystal and Amelia had claimed two lower bunks of the three bunk beds by leaving their suitcases on them.

  Sam blew her cheeks full of air, then let it out. She’d wanted to sleep in an upper bunk, just for fun, but if Amelia and Crystal were going to be able to swing their feet to the floor, she guessed she should be, too.

  Sam glanced at Amelia in time to see the younger girl’s shoulders hunch as if she were trying to hide.

  That would be impossible. Though the bunkhouse was big, with lots of windows to let in sunlight, it was mostly open space. The three beds were clustered at this end, closets ran along one wall, and a long couch covered with golden-brown corduroy sat against the other. The bathroom took up the opposite end of the bunkhouse, but it wasn’t luxurious. It had a shower, mirror, and row of cubbies for toiletries.

  “No television, no CD player, not even a radio.” Amelia didn’t look up as she lamented her sad situation. “Crystal noticed that when we first put our stuff in here.”

  “It’s only for a few days,” Sam reminded her.

  “You’ve got that stuff in the house,” Amelia pointed out.

  “Yeah,” Sam agreed. She didn’t know what to say, or if she should feel guilty.

  Amelia closed her phone with a click, slipped it under the big orange pillow, then crossed the bunkhouse to unzip the duffel bag on her bed. She took out pajamas and a makeup kit.

  “Lights out at ten, right?” Amelia said.

  Her matter-of-fact tone made Sam guess Amelia had been in some sort of rule-crammed facility before the HARP program.

  “Yeah,” Sam said again.

  She walked around, pulling the curtains closed on each of the windows, then glanced at her watch. It was only nine thirty! She couldn’t stand the idea of being in here with two hostile strangers for another half hour.

  “I want to go check on Tempest and Dark Sunshine,” she told Amelia.

  Excitement brought a flush to the girl’s pale face and Sam knew she’d made the right move.

  She hurried. If she gave Amelia time to think, she’d whine that Crystal should come along. Crystal should, but Sam would bet her summer’s paycheck the dark-haired girl would refuse.

  “Crystal,” Sam yelled at the closed bathroom door. “We’re going down to the barn and check on the new foal. Do you want to come?”

  A few seconds of silence passed before Crystal asked, “Why?”

  What kind of question was that? Sam wondered. Automatically she glanced at Amelia, who shrugged. Sam hid her smile. Something in Amelia’s reaction made them a team, at least for a moment.

  “For fun,” Sam called back.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had about all the fun I can stand today. I’m not going down to sniff horse manure.” Crystal paused for a reaction. When it didn’t come, she added, “Amelia, are you leaving me here alone?”

  You creep, Sam thought.

  She didn’t turn around to look at Amelia.

  “Come with us, Crystal,” Amelia begged.

  “No way,” Crystal shouted back.

  “Please?” Amelia whined.

  Sam couldn’t believe Amelia thought that would convince the other girl.

  It didn’t. They heard running water, and humming, but no answer from Crystal. Crystal was banking on Amelia’s weakness.

  When Sam turned, Amelia’s hands were linked together. Her fingers clutched each other as if she were wringing water from a sponge.

  “Crystal will be fine here. We’ll only be across the yard,” Sam told Amelia.

  “Well…”

  “Besides, I have to go see Tempest.”

  “The filly,” Amelia said.

  “Yeah, she’s sort of my baby,” Sam confessed. “I was here alone, in a lightning storm with no power, on the night she was born.”

  “No,” Amelia gasped, and her hunched shoulders straightened.

  Now. Sam headed for the door. Amelia might forget about being Crystal’s follower if the pull of the horses was stronger.

  Sam opened the door, stepped over Blaze, and remained still for a minute. Heat radiated from the boulders edging the path, even though it was full dark. Crickets chirped in the grass and moonlight painted the ranch yard in shades of gray and white.

  “Stay, boy,” Sam said when the border collie scrambled to his feet.

  Recognizing an order, he sat obediently.

  “Are you putting him on guard so Crystal doesn’t escape?” Amelia asked, standing in the doorway.

  That was exactly what she was doing, so Sam didn’t deny it. Instead, she told a different truth.

  “Actually, he makes Dark Sunshine kind of nervous,” Sam said, and then she just started walking.

  The bunkhouse door closed and the next sound she heard was Amelia’s footsteps hurrying to catch up.

  Sam turned on the barn’s overhead lights. Beside her, Amelia took a deep breath of hay and horses. Sam glanced over, smiling, but Amelia was—touching her temples? Sam looked away. She’d turned so quickly, she wasn’t sure if Amelia was rubbing away a headache or wiping away tears.

  Sam didn’t ask.

  When she’d first moved back to River Bend, she’d noticed how much Westerners respected privacy.

  Gram had joked that the habit was rooted in the old days, when people came out West fleeing scandal. Jake thought it was from the old days, too, but he said toting a gun made people more polite. Dad and Brynna said respect for privacy was bred by space. When miles of range, desert, or mountains separated you from neighbors, minding your own business came naturally.

  Whatever had caused it, Sam decided to respect Amelia’s privacy. Amelia would talk when she was ready. Until then, maybe the horses could help her.

  Amelia stood sideways to the stall, letting Dark Sunshine approach slowly. Yes, Sam thought, this girl had definitely been around horses before.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Amelia sighed. “Look at her pretty butterscotch coat. You take good care of her.”

  Sam supposed Amelia could be kissing up like she did with Crystal, but she didn’t think so.

  “Sunny’s had a tough time,” Sam explained. “I’ve done what I can, but she still doesn’t trust people.”

  “That’s smart, don’t you think?” Amelia asked, hesitantly.

  “No one here will harm her,” Sam insisted.

  “How can she believe that? I think it’s way intelligent that’s she’s learned not to do what got her hurt.”

  Dark Sunshine sniffed at her between the boards and Amelia shivered wi
th pleasure.

  “I guess so,” Sam agreed.

  Amelia’s words made sense, but Sam had the feeling the younger girl was talking about herself, as well as the mare.

  “You like horses, don’t you?” Sam asked.

  For the first time, Amelia’s expression had real force. “If I didn’t, why would I be here?”

  “Good point,” Sam said, knowing better than to bring up Crystal.

  “I took English riding lessons when I was ten,” Amelia snapped. “They were a present from my grandparents, but the first time I got in trouble, my dad made me quit.”

  “I hate that,” Sam sympathized.

  “Hate what?” Amelia demanded.

  “If I really get in trouble—and it’s happened, believe me—I get grounded from riding Ace,” she said. “I know it’s not as bad, but—”

  “No, it isn’t. My dad took everything away from me. My music, my books, and he even ripped my posters off the walls. I live in a bare room with just my bed and chest of drawers.

  “I could have taken that, but when I couldn’t go to lessons, that was the end of riding for me. Just when my teacher said I was a natural.” Amelia ended in a whisper.

  Blaze yipped and Sam was pretty sure Crystal had decided to leave the bunkhouse, but Amelia didn’t notice.

  “Here’s the stupid thing: I was actually honest with him.”

  “Your dad?”

  “Yeah, I told him my friends at the stable were the ones helping me stay out of trouble. My friends in the neighborhood kept after me to steal stuff with them—”

  “That’s real nice,” Crystal’s sarcastic voice came from the dark outside the barn. Then she appeared in the doorway. “Ratting out your friends, huh?”

  Amelia giggled. Her eyes changed, taking on a sly look as she said, “Not really. I was just saying that.”

  The switch happened so quickly, Sam couldn’t guess which was the real Amelia.

  Crystal joined Amelia’s laughter. Together, the girls’ merriment was—Sam stopped. The word that popped into her head was something Gram would say. But it was the only one that fit. Together, Amelia and Crystal sounded vulgar.

  “What’s that?” Crystal’s hands flew up to cover her hair before Sam noticed the rustling overhead.

  “Pigeons,” Sam said. “They live up there.”

  “Not bats? Are you sure?” Crystal backed toward the doorway. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Okay,” Amelia said. Without a word or glance, she turned to follow Crystal back to the bunkhouse.

  The blue-green numbers on Sam’s watch glowed in the still-dark bunkhouse. Five thirty. In the morning.

  Sam yawned. She’d stayed awake until midnight, even though the girls had sounded like they were asleep.

  She was supposed to get up and have a meeting with Brynna. Five thirty was insanely early to get out of bed on a summer morning.

  Sam buried her face in her pillow. They didn’t need a meeting. But the rooster crowed from the hen-house, refusing to let her doze.

  Mentally grumbling, Sam slipped out of bed.

  “What?” Amelia sat straight up in her bunk. Her hazel eyes looked wide without glasses to hide them.

  “You scared me half to death,” Sam hissed at her. “Go back to sleep. You have another hour.”

  Amelia stared, then lowered her head to her pillow.

  Heart still pounding, Sam picked up her boots and carried them as she tiptoed from the bunkhouse.

  Sunflowers nudged Sam’s arm as she sat on one of the boulders to pull on her boots. A starling’s creaky call mixed with the sounds of fretting hens, but Blaze wasn’t on guard. After the girls were settled last night, he must have trotted off to join the cowboys.

  Sam’s knees and shoulder joints felt like they were filled with sand. They cracked and popped, though she couldn’t remember doing anything especially strenuous yesterday. Maybe sleeping in a strange bed was enough.

  Get used to it, she told herself.

  Then, as she walked across the ranch yard, she noticed the horses in the ten-acre pasture seemed to have divided into two herds. Most were at the far end, grazing, but Popcorn and Ace watched her from the fence line closest to Jinx.

  Ace’s nicker floated through the morning. When she clucked a greeting back, he stamped a front hoof, but stayed where he was.

  By the time Sam reached the kitchen, she was wide awake and bursting with the news that the three mustangs might have banded together.

  “Good morning, dear,” Gram said. She held her hands, sticky with bits of bread dough, clear of Sam as she kissed her cheek.

  “Mornin’,” Dad said as he came into the kitchen. “Got you a head start on wakin’ up.” He nodded toward the cup of hot chocolate waiting on the kitchen table.

  Sam blew curls of steam from the surface of her hot chocolate, waiting for it to cool while Dad poured coffee for himself and Brynna.

  “I don’t know why I’m so sleepy,” Brynna said as she padded into the kitchen in jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt. She was barefooted and still braiding her hair.

  Sam laughed. Brynna got up early every morning, but she never seemed to get used to it. Sam watched her stepmother take an experimental sip of coffee, then sigh.

  “So, how did it go last night?” Brynna asked.

  “Not bad.” Sam explained how Crystal kept acting bossy and Amelia kept giving in.

  “It’s really only the first day,” Brynna said.

  “Oh, but I found out something cool.” Sam took a quick swallow of her hot chocolate. “Amelia took riding lessons about a year ago.”

  “Great,” Brynna agreed. “That fits perfectly with what I’ve been thinking….”

  “Is that why you were tossing your covers off and thrashing around all night?” Dad joked.

  “Afraid so,” Brynna conceded. “And I’ve about decided I want Crystal to ride Popcorn.”

  “I thought you wanted the grulla to teach her a lesson,” Dad said.

  “That was before I knew she was afraid of animals,” Brynna said.

  “Even the pigeons in the barn rafters,” Sam added.

  “I didn’t think usin’ a horse to bring her down a peg was a good idea to begin with,” Dad said.

  “You were probably right,” Brynna agreed. “But we won’t know for sure until Sam’s finished riding him today.”

  Dad rubbed his fingertips over his brow. It was a gesture Sam usually saw him make at the end of a long day, not first thing in the morning.

  He was afraid she couldn’t ride Jinx.

  “Dallas said Jinx was fine,” Sam told him.

  “He was fine for Dallas,” Dad pointed out.

  “I won’t let her do anything risky,” Brynna promised.

  “It’s your call,” Dad said.

  Sam felt a little sorry for Brynna. Dad had a way of making you take responsibility that sounded downright scary. “I’m going out brush-poppin’ with Ross and Pepper, but I don’t want to come home to any surprises.”

  Brush-poppin’ meant riding through ravines clogged with sagebrush, searching out cattle that might have hidden during the recent roundup.

  Sam felt a little envious, but Dallas’ story about Jinx had made her eager to lavish attention on the misunderstood horse.

  As she walked away from the ranch house, Sam imagined how beautiful the curried and cared-for Jinx would look.

  The sun had risen and it was almost too warm when she stepped inside the new bunkhouse.

  “My hair’s going to turn orange,” Crystal accused, grabbing Sam’s arm to drag her into the bathroom.

  Crystal pointed at the floor of the shower.

  “Do you mean those streaks?” Sam said. “There’s iron in the water. Just wipe it out.”

  “I was worried about my hair, not your shower,” Crystal bawled, but as soon as she paused for a breath, Amelia cut in with a second complaint.

  “Crystal’s not wearing boots, so I’m not going to, either.”

&nbs
p; “You have to wear boots. Both of you. Today it might not matter, but it will when we mount up. You might as well get used to them.”

  Sam hadn’t meant to sound so bossy, but taking back her words would be a mistake. A shoe without a heel could slip through the stirrup. If the rider fell and the horse kept moving, she could be dragged.

  As Sam made up her bunk, she heard Crystal mutter, “Who died and made her queen?”

  Go ahead and hate me, Sam thought as she opened the curtains on each window.

  Ignoring their unmade beds, the girls stood together at the bathroom mirror. Amelia seemed to be mimicking Crystal’s way of applying eye makeup.

  “I’ll meet you up at the kitchen for breakfast,” Sam said.

  She sighed as she left the bunkhouse, but it wasn’t the sound of her own breath that stopped her three steps down the path.

  The whirring noise drew her eyes to the flat-topped boulder she’d sat on just an hour ago.

  Nightmares were like this.

  You looked.

  You saw.

  Your cry was strangled to silence by fear.

  Chapter Nine

  The snake lay across the boulder like a foot-long mosaic of beige and brown. His forked tongue flicked. The bumps on his tapered tail looked like rows of corn on the cob as they twitched from side to side.

  Do rattlesnakes have to be coiled to strike? Can they bite through leather boots? How about jeans? Will it come after me if I back away?

  The rattlesnake’s seeking head raised off the rock. Its intent eyes glinted.

  Sam couldn’t remember what to do.

  It’s more afraid of you than you are of it.

  She’d heard that about all kinds of wildlife. She hoped it was true of rattlesnakes.

  Sam scuffed her boot on the dirt, trying to frighten the snake. Like magic, it wove itself into a coil and its rattles beat louder.

  Sam took a step backward. The snake didn’t seem to notice. She took another silent step away, and another, until her back was pressed against the bunkhouse door.

  It couldn’t reach her from here. Then, even though she was watching, the snake disappeared. She couldn’t say which side of the boulder it had flowed down. There was movement and it was gone.

  Sam’s breath rushed out and she rapped on the closed bunkhouse door. She didn’t feel like turning her back on the path. It hadn’t been a very big snake. What if its mother were nearby?