Gypsy Gold by Terri Farley

bridge of her nose. “After all, he joined up with you.”
    â€œHe joined up with Lace,” Nicolas corrected her. “He hasn’t let me touch him.”
    Sam sighed. Each time she’d reached for the little dun, he’d skittered away, but she’d thought it was because he didn’t know her.
    â€œHe could belong to someone,” Sam suggested. “And Brynna knows how to look him over for brands, tattoos, microchips, and all that stuff.”
    â€œSomething could have happened to his mother and he just wandered off on his own.” Jen looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe his owner’s posted a reward for—”
    â€œI don’t want a reward,” Nicolas interrupted.
    â€œOkay, we’ll take it!” Jen said, but she shot a quick sideways glance at Nicolas.
    â€œI don’t want anyone to be suspicious,” he explained. “I let him follow us because he wanted to, not because—”
    â€œWe’re not suspicious and Brynna won’t be, either,” Sam said flatly. “We’ve had lots of experience with horse thieves—”
    â€œOh, good,” Nicolas moaned.
    â€œâ€”and you’re not one,” Sam finished.
    Nicolas fixed her with a look that said she couldn’t possibly know that for sure, but Sam held up her hand.
    â€œI know what I know,” she insisted. Then she folded her arms and nodded.
    â€œForsters are notoriously stubborn,” Jen pretended to whisper to Nicolas. “We might as well mount up and go. If you try to talk her out of it, we’ll be here all day.”
    Minutes later, two riders, one caravan wagon, and a skipping foal trotted out into the autumn morning. The crunch and thud of hooves crossing orange and yellow leaves made their passage a celebration.
    This was a lot better than lying in the dry grass waiting for vultures to swoop down for a peek, Sam thought, and she was pretty sure she didn’t have any Sunday night homework.
    When the horses settled into a walk, Nicolas took out his violin and played a jig he called traveling music.
    Once, from the corner of her eye, Sam thoughtshe caught movement. She halted Ace and swung him around, backtracking in case the Phantom had followed, but she didn’t spot the stallion.
    Surely his instincts would keep him away during the daylight, no matter how much he liked Nicolas’s songs. Especially if someone was firing a gun.
    Sam reined Ace back onto the path. In a few steps he’d caught up with Silly and Jen.
    They’d been on the trail for almost an hour when they heard another shot.
    Sam and Jen drew rein. Lace snorted and stopped. She reached her chin over the colt’s crest, pulling him close.
    â€œDefinitely a gunshot,” Jen said.
    â€œBut what’s that?” Nicolas asked.
    Dry grass crackled as something crashed through it.
    An animal, Sam thought. Was it fleeing the gunman?
    â€œIt’s the coydog,” Nicolas said.
    Sam’s breath caught. She twisted in the saddle and noticed Nicolas, sitting high on the wagon’s driver’s seat, had a better view. Could he really see—
    The horses shied as a patchwork coat of coyote gray and white showed through the brush. The pup streaked closer, then sensed the horses and humans, and changed course.
    Sam stood in her stirrups, searching for more swaying grasses that would show her that the femalecoyote and Blaze were with the pup, but she saw nothing.
    The pup was doing okay on his own. Fleet and determined, he kept running. For a baby, he was doing a great job. He’d outdistance whatever followed him.
    But why was he alone?

Chapter Seven
    C racking through the sunny morning came another gunshot. Then a yelp.
    The dun colt bolted and Sam gathered her reins, ready to send Ace galloping after him until Nicolas shouted, “Let him go. He’ll come back to Lace.”
    When she heard a volley of barks, Sam knew she couldn’t have set