before he spoke, she demanded, âWhat does it look like?â
âItâs not the Phantom. Thatâs for sure. Or that young black you took a fancy to.â
A sigh of relief rocked Sam.
âItâs a paint mare, red-brown spotted,â Pepper said. He made a wide gesture over one side of his chest, showing how the horse was marked. âA young horse, probably hasâuh, had, some draft blood.â
The description sounded familiar, but it wasnât one of the pintos belonging to Mrs. Allen, the lady who owned the Blind Faith Mustang Sanctuary. Neither Calico nor Ginger could be mistaken for young animals.
âDied between here and Three Ponies Ranch. Jake found her, saw me and Ross cominâ by, and flagged us down. Thought Brynna should be told.â
That almost guaranteed the horse was a mustang. Jake had a phenomenal memory and a great eye for detail. If the horse had belonged to a neighboring ranch, he would have recognized it. And he was right, since Brynna worked for the Bureau of LandManagement, the government agency charged with keeping an eye on all wild horses, she should be notified.
âHe thinks she died of something bad,â Pepper added. âIllness or something.â
Sam was so startled, her shoulders jerked.
Illness? When Linc Slocum hatched a plan to build a resort, a super dude ranch, heâd tried to create a Western mood by putting out hay along the highway, baiting wild horses so that out-of-town investors would admire them.
Even though heâd been arrested and punished for the illegal activity, Sam had assumed a mustang had come along looking for hay, and been struck by a car. Horses didnât always look both ways before crossing a street. Especially wild horses.
The thought of illness, on the other hand, made chills race down Samâs arms. Because they lived in close communities, disease was always a threat to mustangs.
Suddenly, she remembered the horse Pepper had described.
âI hope Iâm wrong,â Sam said. âBut last week, when I saw the Phantomâs herd, he had a new lead mare. A red-brown paint.â Sam swallowed hard. She didnât want to ask the next question. âDid this horse have a flaxen mane and tail?â
Pepper stood quietly, but not from uncertainty. He frowned and kicked his boot toe in the dirt.
He nodded. âYep.â
So the mare had been with the Phantomâs band, just days ago.
If it was something contagiousâ¦if it was deadlyâ¦Samâs mind swam with awful possibilities. Not only could disease wipe out Phantomâs herd, it could infect domestic horses whoâd been around them. Ace. Witch. Chocolate Chip, Quinn Elyâs gelding. Queen, the red dun whoâd once been the Phantomâs lead mare.
Sam was so involved with thinking of domestic horses that might be in danger, she didnât notice Dad until he stood beside her.
âWhat kinda nightmares are you giving yourself now?â he asked.
Sam shook her head. Why should she pile her misgivings on Dad? He had little affection for the wild horses who competed with the cattle for grass. After all, cattle supported the River Bend Ranch.
âYouâre afraid this is one of the Phantomâs band. Am I right?â He paused until Sam nodded. âWe wonât bury the mare until Brynna takes a look, but Iâm gonna drive out and make sure she wasnât killed by that cougar. Do you want to ride out there with me?â
It was a gruesome offer, but Sam appreciated it. Dad must have stopped thinking of her as a little kid.
Of course she didnât want to go. She didnât want to see any dead horse, but she had to know if a disease could be spreading through the Phantomâs herd.
âIâll go,â Sam said. âI think I should.â
Â
Sam had no appetite for dinner that night. Her mind couldnât erase the image of the big paint mare, whoâd been fierce and bossy just
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