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Phantom Stallion: Wild Horse Island #9: Snowfire Chapter One
Darby Carter pressed her legs against her stirrup leathers. The blue roan gelding beneath her stepped out into a jog, just as she'd asked, but the herd of red cattle ahead didn't speed up. They scattered.
Ten cows and eight calves didn't amount to a stampede, but Darby loosened her reins, letting Baxter extend his trot. His sudden speed made her black ponytail snap, but the cattle ignored the horse and rider.
"Get back!" Darby raised her right hand from her reins. She wished she had a hat to wave.
Not that Cade was waving his, she thought, glancing at him. The young Hawaiian cowboy rode at the front of the herd with his hala hat pulled down, almost covering his short, tight braid. He rode loose and completely relaxed in the saddle.
When they'd first started out, a calfless cow behind Cade had veered away from the bunch. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Cade had noticed and signaled Hula Girl, the chestnut cutter he rode, to smoothly block the cow.
Darby's job was to watch for stragglers, but Cade hadn't told her the cattle might spread out and stray in all different directions.
She shot another glance up at Cade. He made this chore look easy. If he knew she was entirely messing up her part of moving the cattle to higher pastures, he didn't show it.
Forget riding loose and relaxed, Darby thought. The only way she could keep the cattle moving forward was by trotting closer to the animals.
Baxter was new at this, but Darby didn't blame the gelding for their awkwardness. Baxter'sblueberries-and-cream-colored coat darkened with sweat as he tried to do what she wanted.
As they rode past the broodmare pasture, Darby spotted two foals sparring with each other. First she recognized the tan one, Blue Moon. The foals reared, nipped, and chased each other. As they raced past Lady Wong, the mare's foal, Black Cat, joined the game.
Even though their hooves were so tiny that Darby knew she could enclose one in her hand, the young horses were swift and agile. They swept near the fence and Darby saw the bay foal playing with them was Luna Dancer, Hula Girl's baby.
"He's Mr. Independence," Darby told Baxter, because Luna Dancer had weaned himself ahead of most of the year's foals.
Baxter's ears swiveled, but not to listen to Darby. He snorted with excitement as a calf corkscrewed its skinny tail, then straightened it high in the air before bounding away from the herd.
"Oh, no, you don't," Darby scolded.
The calf actually looked back at her before giving a buck of high spirits. Then he ran.
Should she desert her position at the rear of the herd to pursue the calf?
Baxter flattened his ears and decided for her. As he bolted after the calf, hooves falling in the same dusty zigzag path, Darby crowded against the gelding's neck.
Baxter was so excited, he raced right past the calf. Darby turned him back, trying to block the fugitive calf's escape. Baxter obeyed, making such a tight arc, Darby's left stirrup skidded on dirt.
Her turn wasn't pretty, but it worked. The calf gave a frightened bawl, then ran back to his mother.
Darby gave Baxter's sweaty neck a pat, but the gelding didn't notice. Once more, he was watching the herd.
The cattle mooed, rolled their eyes, and a few stopped. Others swung their big bodies back toward the ranch.
If the cattle made it back to where they'd started, Darby knew her grandfather, Jonah, and Kimo, a hardworking ranch hand, would turn her lack of skill into a good-natured joke.
What was she doing wrong? She was about to shout her question at Cade when Hula Girl slowed. Leaving the lead to a loud red cow, Cade made his mount drop back along the right side of the herd until she matched steps with Baxter.
"Slow and easy," Cade told Darby. "And quiet."
Hula Girl's gait dropped down to a walk, so Darby slowed Baxter.
Amazingly, the cattle moved back into a calm herd and continued their journey toward Upper Sugar Mill pasture. They walked with purpose, swinging their heads at occasional flies, but they looked relaxed, and Darby couldn't figure out why.
"Don't believe the movies." Cade's voice was so low, Darby strained to hear him.
"Don't believe the movies?" she repeated.
"You could make this herd do what you want them to by sitting over there"—he nodded toward a cinnamon-colored gouge on a green hill at least a mile away—"and raising your hand."
Maybe you could, Darby thought, but she just said, "Okay."
Darby watched Cade ride on back to the head of the herd, and muffled a cough with her hand. It wasn't her asthma kicking up, just a reaction to the dust, but she was reassured by the feel of her inhaler in her front pocket.
Since she'd come to ‘Iolani Ranch three months ago, her asthma had practically disappeared. The clean ocean air on Moku Lio Hihiu—Hawaiian for Wild Horse Island—was a huge improvement over the pollution and smog of Pacific Pinnacles, California.
Even to herself, she'd stopped calling California home.
Surrounded by flowers and birdsong, Darby drifted into thoughts of how much she loved Hawaii. She was convinced she'd landed in exactly the right place in the world. How many other eighth graders were riding up tropical mountainsides during their study breaks?
As a first-year student at Lehua High School, this was the first time she'd faced two-hour-long final exams. She'd had her last full day of classes on Friday, and today she'd gotten off at noon. Tomorrow was "dead day"—meaning a full day of study. And Wednesday finals began.
When Baxter tried to lope up the hill, Darby tightened her reins and kept him at a walk.
"To save your legs," she muttered to the gelding, but that wasn't the only reason. Baxter had to know what was expected of him. She couldn't just be a lump along for the ride.
Phantom Stallion: Wild Horse Island #9: Snowfire. Copyright © by Terri Farley. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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