Native Silver

by Helen Conrad

  She’d known she would see him if she came out to watch the parade. She should have stayed away. But something had drawn her here, and now that she’d come, she was glad.

  David was dressed like the Spanish caballero she imagined him to be, with silver buttons down the seams of his trousers and a red-velvet waistcoat. He held his head so high and proud, he might have stepped out of another century. She watched him hungrily, unable to tear her gaze away.

  Then he looked across the road and saw her, and something flashed in his eyes. For one breath-stopping moment, she thought he was going to ride by and swoop her up into his arms to carry her off with him. But then the moment was gone and he looked away. And her heart crumpled within her.

  He rode on and her eyes were filled with tears. She wasn’t sure why. But at least there was one good thing to cling to. At least Megan wasn’t riding with the Santiagos. Not yet.

  Time seemed to drag with excruciating slowness, and then finally the horse-show was begun with a flourish of trumpets and a short choral performance from the local Junior High School choir.

  One after another the horses entered the ring, were examined by the judges, and then put through their paces. One after another, horses stumbled or balked, and Shawnee knew she and Miki had a very good chance to do much better. Allison had drawn an early time and Shawnee watched as she performed flawlessly.

  That is what we have to beat, she whispered to herself, steeling her determination.

  And finally it was her turn. The applause from the crowd was only polite. Miki was a beautiful horse, but not at all like the thoroughbreds they were used to. She turned Miki into the ring and toward the spot where the judge had pointed out for her to stop, and suddenly there was a loud crash as a set of stacked barrels fell over. Miki jumped, pulled away from Shawnee’s control and reared high into the air with Shawnee holding on for dear life.

  She quickly got him under control again, but she knew what had happened had looked very bad to the judges. Loud noises were not part of the testing and they would take that into account, but still, it would stick in their minds.

  “We’ll just have to make up for it,” she whispered, leaning low to talk to Miki. “We can do it.”

  “Miss Shawnee Carrington riding Native Silver,” the announcer said clearly, and the crowd clapped again. Shawnee put what had happened behind her and the two of them, horse and rider, went to work.

  The judges put them through a whole array of tests to check Miki’s willingness and training. There were barrels to jump, obstacles to make their way through, complicated gates to open as though they were riding the range and had to get through the gate quickly and smoothly without letting other stock through.

  At one point Shawnee was asked to drop the reins and walk away to see if Miki would remain absolutely motionless. He did. At another, she demonstrated putting on a rain-slicker while mounted. At every maneuver, Miki was rock steady, depending on the signals she gave him through her hands, her knees, her voice, to guide him through the minefields.

  Elation filled her as she left the ring. She knew they’d done well. “You’re a dream, you great big beautiful horse,” she whispered as she rubbed Miki’s neck. “I think we did it.”

  They had to wait until all contestants had finished, but shortly afterwards, the announcement came. “Shawnee Carrington, riding Native Silver, takes first place.” Allison was a close second, and Petra was well back in the standings.

  “You did it, you did it!” Lisa was jumping up and down, Brad was grinning from ear to ear, and Granpa Jim was looking happy, but slightly stunned.

  “She beat the Santiagos,” he kept repeating over and over, as though he just couldn’t believe it.

  “I haven’t really beaten them yet,” she reminded them all. “This is only the first day of competition. The combined total will tell the tale.”

  “You’ll do it,” Lisa crowed, forgetting how sure she’d been that there was no chance. “You’re a winner, kid. We love you!”

  The glow dimmed a bit when time went by and no one from the Santiago family came to congratulate her. There was no reason why anyone should, but she couldn’t help but wish ...

  No, she wasn’t going to do that anymore!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ABOVE ALL, HONOR

  Shawnee wasn’t nearly as nervous the second day. Whether it was because of winning the day before, or something else, she wasn’t sure, but there was an excitement sizzling in her blood, a sense of elation that wouldn’t go away. She just might do it. She just might win the Cup. And if she could do that—if she could put that cup in her grandfather’s hands— they could live with all the rest.

  She was alone in the stall, grooming Miki, when David came to visit. One minute she was murmuring soft encouragement to her animal, the next she looked up and there was David standing in the doorway.

  She straightened, but for a long moment, neither of them spoke. He was no longer dressed as a caballero. His grey slacks had a modern crease and his blue shirt was open at the neck. He held a sheaf of white papers in his hand, but they were folded.

  Her mind filled with memories of sound and taste and feelings of the lovemaking they’d shared before she managed to shut it off. She had to forget all that.

  “I guess congratulations are in order,” he said at last.

  She tried to smile. “Thank you.”

  He took a step into the stall. “How do you assess your chances for today?”

  She tilted her chin. “I hope to win. You know that.”

  His eyes were so very large and so very dark. “Does it mean that much to you?” he asked searchingly. “Do you have to go out there?”

  She frowned, not really sure what he was saying. “Of course,” she answered. “I have to win.”

  His hands were clenched into fists, crumpling the paper he held. A pulse was throbbing at his temple. She stared at him, sensing that he was tormented by something but unable to understand what it could possibly be.

  Finally, he said it. “I don’t want you to ride today,” he said simply.

  Her jaw dropped at his audacity. “What?”

  “I don’t want you to go out.” Miki nuzzled into his shoulder and he stroked the big horse’s head.

  Shawnee was completely confused. Did he really think he could stop her from beating his sister this way?

  “I’d like to see you stop me,” she challenged.

  He shook his head, “I can easily stop you,” he said softly. “I’d rather you withdrew yourself.”

  Cold dread began a slow creep through her system. He was serious. “I can’t do that,” she said, choking out the words.

  He turned from her, still stroking her horse. “Native Silver is blind, isn’t he?” he said quietly.

  As simply as that, it was all over. She felt all the life drain out of her and she had to reach out to steady herself. “How did you know?” she whispered.

  “When I first saw you ride, I thought you and he were some sort of miracle. You were so closely connected. When you flew across the hills, you were part horse, part rider, as though you’d fused into one being. I kept watching, wondering how you did it. It was as though you communicated through mental telepathy. Then I began to notice little things. And I put two and two together.” He shrugged. “Watching you yesterday in the ring, I was sure of it.”

  She felt very old and very tired. “What are you planning to do about it? Are you going to tell the judges?”

  He was still stroking Miki, not looking into her eyes. “I know the two of you are like magic together when you ride the trails. But this is different.” He gave Miki one last pat and turned to face her. “This is over very rough terrain.”

  “Oh, but don’t you see?” she put in eagerly, hoping to make her case. “We’re handicapped by Miki’s blindness because it makes me work harder. But at the same time, we have an advantage in concentration. He’s never distracted by things the way other horses are. His mind is totally on what we’re d
oing.”

  David shook his head. “He’s still a blind horse. This trail is set up to challenge the best in the field.” He took a quick, impatient breath. “You could get hurt. I don’t think you should chance it.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to tell me you’re doing this for my own good?”

  “Of course.”

  “And you expect me to believe that?”

  “Why else would I stop you?”

  She made an exasperated noise. “To let Allison win, of course!”

  He frowned, obviously offended that she would think such a thing. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Don’t you want her to win? Didn’t you tell me how much better she was going to feel after she won the Cup?”

  “Yes. But Allison has nothing to do with this.”

  She swung away from him, hot tears of frustration brimming in her eyes. How could he say that? Allison had everything to do with it. Why else would he do this to her?

  “Please, David,” she forced out in a strangled voice. “I’m begging you, for my grandfather’s sake. Let me compete.”

  “Shawnee . . .” He was reaching for her, about to take her in his arms, but she stiffened.

  “Don’t touch me,” she said coldly. “I don’t need your comfort. All I need from you is fairness. That’s all I ask.”

  “I can’t be fair where you’re concerned.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” she said, her voice shaking. “Like-father, like son. That old thief, Dan Santiago, knew how to cheat the Carringtons, and now you’re carrying on the heritage. Your father would be proud, I’m sure.”

  His voice hardened with resentment. “Now just a minute, Shawnee . . ,”

  He was getting angry. Good. She wanted him angry. She was pretty angry herself.

  She whirled, not caring if he saw her reddened eyes. “You want to steal the Cup from me just the way your father stole Rancho Verde from my grandfather. Well, I won’t withdraw, David, I won’t make it easy for you. You’ll have to go to the board and have me kicked out. You’ll have to do it in front of everyone.”

  He started toward her, but at that moment, Granpa Jim came ambling into the stables, calling her name. David stopped, staring at her. His dark eyes were full of a certain agony she couldn’t name. He looked like a tortured man, and for just a moment, she started to reach for him, wondering if she was misreading the situation. He looked hurt. Vulnerable. Even…scared.

  “Can’t find the darned churro stand,” Granpa Jim was muttering. “How they gonna sell the stuff if they keep hiding the cart for it?”

  David grimaced, hit the folded papers he carried against his palm and turned on his heel, leaving the stables without another word. Shawnee watched him go and she almost went after him. He’d looked so lost. But Lisa and Brad came into the stables at that moment, and the chance to follow him had passed. She was too busy trying to pretend everything was okay to her family, even as she knew the dream was over.

  She waited numbly, sure she would soon receive word to pack up and go home. But two hours passed and no word came. And finally it was time to get ready for the trail ride.

  All the contestants were asked to line up and trot out past the timekeeper so that the judges could evaluate the condition of each horse, checking for any injuries that might have been sustained since the previous day.

  Then Shawnee walked Miki, waiting for her time to leave. She searched the stands for any sign of David, wondering what he’d decided to do. But she didn’t see him anywhere. Up until the very last minute, she expected someone to come up and tap her on the shoulder, ordering her out of the show.

  “Hi,” Petra called, walking her horse nearby. “You did great yesterday. Good luck today.”

  “Thanks.” She walked Miki a little closer to the girl. “You did pretty well yourself.”

  Petra smiled dismissively. “It was fun.”

  Shawnee hesitated. “Have you seen David?” she asked at last, unable to bear the suspense any longer. “Do you know where he is?”

  A strange look came over the girl’s face. “I . . . well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell you.” She came closer as well. “I saw him about an hour ago. He was really angry about something, but he wouldn’t say what. Someone asked him to fill in as a judge at one of the livestock contests and he practically bit the poor man’s head off. Then he mumbled something like ‘the hell with it’ and left for Santa Barbara.”

  Shawnee stopped dead in her tracks. “Left for Santa Barbara?”

  “That’s where he said he was going. ‘And don’t expect me back before the weekend,’ he said as he slammed out.” She shrugged. “I’ve never seen him act like that before. But you asked where he was. I guess he’s on the road to Santa Barbara right now.”

  So he hadn’t told the board. Shawnee felt a vast sense of relief. Maybe her pleading, and then her anger, had got through to him. And yet, she couldn’t be too confident. He could still invalidate her run later on, if he chose. Did he want Allison to win that badly? She was still angry with him, angry and hurt. At the same time, she worried about what he’d done, leaving so abruptly. Had Megan gone with him? No, she caught a glimpse of the blonde as she began to walk Miki to the waiting area. That made her worry about David. If he was driving all alone and angry….

  But there wasn’t time to mull over his actions. It was time for the riders to begin leaving.

  Allison was one of the first riders to go. Petra drew a time a bit later, and it was fifteen minutes after that when Shawnee was assigned to leave. When she and Miki were finally flying along the road on their way to the hills, the anger and numbness fell away. She was still in the competition, so it was time to concentrate and do the best job she could. That was what she’d been working towards for so long. It would be a shame to ruin everything with fear and emotion.

  The object in trail riding was to cover the course in the allotted time, overcoming all obstacles, and return with the horse in as fresh a condition as possible. Shawnee had been over the course a hundred times in her head. She was prepared to let Miki lope whenever possible, as that was the gait he preferred over all others. But she would have to walk him where the terrain was particularly rough, and be ready to give him all the help she could when it came to fording streams. And she would try to persuade him to trot or canter downhill to save his wind.

  Things were going beautifully. Miki was in peak form and responding to every command as though he anticipated it. Sometimes she wondered if he really was still blind. Under her control, he seemed to see better than any other horse she’d ever ridden.

  She checked her watch often and was pleased to see that they were clicking along, right on time. They were doing so well, in fact, that after an hour of riding, she was able to give Miki periodic rest stops where she could stretch her legs a bit, loosen the girth for a few minutes and check him over.

  They passed some of the other riders. One horse had gone lame, another was totally winded. After about two hours, they saw a sorry sight. A horse had thrown his rider and run off for home. Shawnee called to the man who was walking along looking more embarrassed than angry, but he waved her on.

  The day was hot and Miki was getting progressively more tired, but doing well. Shawnee’s hopes were soaring. She knew Allison was her only real threat. If only she knew how well Allison was doing right now.

  Three hours gone. They were on the home stretch now. She could imagine Granpa Jim and Lisa waiting at the finish, looking at their watches. There was no need for them to worry at all. She was coming in fresh, with time to spare. She hoped to be able to walk in the last two miles, so that Miki would be really rested.

  They were climbing a ridge above a day creek when something caught her eye. There was a huge blackberry bramble covering the bottom of the creek. A bright flash of blue and white came from the far edge of it. Someone was down.

  Shawnee recognized the horse grazing nearby. It was Petra’s big bay mare. With a word to Miki, she changed the
direction of their climb and turned instead to plunge down the hillside.

  “Petra!” she called as they came near. “What happened?”

  There was no answer. Shawnee stopped Miki and scrambled down to push her way into the bramble, Petra lay very still, her face very white.

  “Oh no,” Shawnee whispered. “Oh no, please no!”

  Moving quickly, she pulled a pocketknife from her slacks and began cutting back the thorny arms of the blackberry bush, making a tunnel she could crouch down in to get to the girl.

  “Petra, Petra, please answer me.” She felt for a pulse and was flooded with relief when she found it easily. At her touch, the girl stirred.

  “Oh!” Her eyelids fluttered.

  “Lie still.” Shawnee checked her for broken bones and found no evidence of any. “Don’t try to get up.”

  She might have saved her breath. Petra was unconscious again. Shawnee jumped up and ran to the bay horse, pulling the saddle blanket out from under the saddle and dashing back to cover Petra. She rolled a large, flat stone over to place beneath the girl’s feet, then sat back. “Keep her warm and elevate the feet,” she recited from a long-ago class in first aid. “But what else? What can I do to help her?”

  She knew Petra shouldn’t be moved without professional advice. She could wait here and call to the next rider who came through to give them word back at the fairground. Or she could ride back herself. Either way, her chance for the Cup was over.

  She glanced at her watch. She had almost half an hour left on her time, but the trail riding-path back was circuitous. If she jumped on Miki and they rode hell-for-leather the straight way, she could reach help in less than ten minutes.

  She hated leaving Petra, but she knew she wasn’t doing the girl any good just sitting here beside her. She needed a doctor. There was no telling what she’d hurt in her fall. Shawnee knew she had to get back to the fairground as quickly as she could.