Mistwalker by Terri Farley Read Free Book Online

Tilting her head back, she drank the last of her water, then flashed an innocent smile. “I mean, you got yourlast jewelry from ancient ghosts.”
    â€œYou know that still creeps me out,” Darby said. “And I think that’s something we won’t share with my mom, if you don’t mind.”
    Darby ran through her chores as fast as possible, but when she got back to Sun House, she could already hear Megan’s hair dryer whining upstairs.
    Hurry, she told herself. You’ve got to look great .
    When she made it to the kitchen, she had every intention of just pouring a bowl of cereal and shoveling it down while standing at the counter.
    â€œI need bigger calves,” Jonah said. He and Aunty Cathy were dawdling over coffee as if it were an ordinary day. “I can’t afford to ship them to the mainland for fattening, but this hippie grass-fed beef thing…”
    What? Wasn’t all beef grass fed?
    Hurry. Don’t listen to Jonah. Don’t get into conversations that will make you late.
    â€œJonah, grass-fed beef is healthier,” Aunty Cathy was saying.
    â€œFor cows or humans?”
    â€œBoth.” Aunty Cathy looked serious. “And if there’s one thing we have plenty of, it’s grass. Besides,” she added with a grin, “no one on earth would mistake you for a hippie.”
    Jonah’s frown kept Darby from thanking him for the necklace. Besides, it could have been from Aunty Cathy. Even Megan could have slipped it in there and pretended to know nothing about it.
    Why didn’t she just ask? All at once, Darby realized her fingers felt cold. Before she’d come to Hawaii, that had only happened when she’d felt really unsure. On the verge of timid .
    Darby blamed a combination of hurry and worry.
    Vowing to shake off these feelings, she said the first thing that came into her head: “Did you ever have any paint horses?”
    Before he answered, Jonah’s eyes shifted toward the hallway. Something in the glance made Darby sure the necklace had been from him. But now he was answering her.
    â€œIf you mean your Tutu’s Prettypaint, that mare’s papers say she’s a gray.” He gave a long, dubious shrug. “I can’t claim I’m unhappy to have her out of my sight, though.”
    â€œI think she’s a beautiful horse.” Aunty Cathy shot Darby a conspiratorial look.
    â€œMe too,” Darby said, but she hadn’t been thinking of Prettypaint. She’d been picturing teenage Ellen, Ebony, a black-and-silver stallion, and the horse that had come to visit, just yesterday.
    Darby took down a bowl and a box of cereal, then asked, “Don’t you like paints?”
    â€œHave I mentioned this is a Quarter Horse ranch? Seems like I did.” Jonah used a knuckle to smooth one side of his mustache in mock concentration. “No wild kanaka stock from Crimson Vale or Sky Mountain, no blue-blooded Arabians, Thoroughbreds, Morgans,big-as-a-truck Friesians, or anything else.”
    â€œOkay,” Darby said, trying not to spill the milk she was pouring.
    â€œJust Quarter Horses. The registry won’t accept paints, so I’m careful with my bloodlines.” He glared at Aunty Cathy when she cleared her throat. “I’d never have one, and if some throwback popped up, I’d sell it.”
    Her mom had gone for revenge in a big way, then, Darby thought, but it didn’t sound like she’d achieved it.
    Darby finished her cereal just as Jonah started out of the kitchen and she was quick enough to catch him before he left the house.
    â€œThanks for the necklace,” she said.
    Her grandfather’s wry smile said he wasn’t surprised she’d read him like she did horses.
    â€œIt was just rattling around in a drawer,” he said with a shrug, “but you’re welcome.”
    â€œI really like it,” she added.
    â€œIt’s just a reminder,” he said.