Gift Horse by Terri Farley Read Free Book Online Page A

emergency brake on slowly, instead of giving it his usual loud yank.
    â€œLook at that,” Sam said, as she slipped out of the truck. She nodded toward the ten-acre pasture.
    â€œSaw ’em,” Dad said.
    In the big pasture—where Popcorn should have been—the other horses crowded against the fence, watching Dad. Tank’s white-splotched face and Strawberry’s roan one jerked skyward, but their eyes stayed fixed on Dad, acknowledging him as their leader.
    â€œCould the mountain lion be back?” Sam whispered.
    â€œNo,” Dad said quietly. “Look at Amigo.”
    Amigo belonged to Dallas, foreman of the River Bend for as long as Sam could remember. His aged sorrel gelding was the horse he’d ridden when she was a kid. Now, Amigo nickered gently, sounding as if he had things under control. Nike and Jeepers-Creepers, younger saddle horses, jostled past Tank and Strawberry until the fence creaked from the pressure of their chests.
    â€œGet back, now,” Dad told the horses, and though they stayed close, watching him, they quit pushing.
    Sam scanned the pasture again. Where was DarkSunshine? The buckskin mare was recovering from abuse at the hands of wild horse rustlers and she was in foal. Sam stared until her vision blurred shadows and trees into one dark mass, but still couldn’t spot the mare.
    â€œDad,” Sam whispered urgently as they reached the front of the pasture and started toward Gram and Brynna. “Where’s—”
    â€œIf you’re looking for the mare, she’s back in the shadows, near the run-in shed, but not under it.”
    Sighing, Sam realized Dad was right. Sunny’s chamois-colored coat was like candlelight in the far corner. She was safe, but even from here Sam could see she was trembling.
    Sam caught her breath as Ace bolted toward her. The gelding came at such a quick trot, Sam hoped he wouldn’t bowl her over. She got one hand up before he reached her.
    â€œHey boy,” she said, but Ace moved past her hand and thrust his muzzle against her chest, rocking her back a step. She smoothed her hand down his damp neck. The night air was so cold, she wondered why he wasn’t frosted with ice crystals.
    Ace shifted his weight toward her hand as she rubbed under his mane.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Ace?”
    In answer, he whisked his nostrils against her neck. He’d never done that before, and she didn’t know what it meant. But she stood still. If Ace tookcomfort in her scent, she’d let him sniff all night.
    As she stood there, Sam became aware of Blaze’s incessant barking from inside the bunkhouse. If the horses had been spooked by a cougar or some other animal, wouldn’t Dallas have set Blaze free?
    Blaze, the ranch’s watchdog, was protective and territorial. If another creature crossed the boundaries of the place he considered home, Blaze forgot he was only a shaggy black-and-brown Border collie and acted as if he had the size and strength of a lion.
    Dallas stood between the barn and the small pasture. He wore only a jean jacket over a white shirt, and must have been freezing.
    To the left, she saw River Bend’s two cowboys. They stood between the new bunkhouse and the old one, which smelled of fresh-sawed lumber and pine sawdust because it was being rebuilt. Pepper was hatless and Ross had his shirt-sleeves rolled up as if he’d been washing his hands for dinner. Together, they blocked the last avenue of escape for the horses.
    So why, with five horse-savvy people standing around, hadn’t the loose horses been put back where they belonged? Ace tagged along, practically walking on Sam’s heels. She joined Dad as he spoke to Brynna and Gram.
    â€œWhat’s up?” Dad asked, quietly.
    â€œI wish I knew,” Brynna said, shivering. Sam noticed Brynna wore only jeans and a long-sleeved tee-shirt.
    Gram’s pink sweater, prettier than it was warm, hung open over a