Storm Chaser by Chris Platt

Wild Hawk Ranch into a guest ranch for city folk. Confused, she turned and crept back up the stairs, seeking the comfort of her bed.
    She crawled under the covers and lay staring into the darkness of her room. The whole family knew how her father felt about renting their home out to strangers. If he would even consider such a thing, they had to be in even more trouble than she’d thought.

SIX
    Jessica saw the dust cloud rising over the mountain before the riders and the herd came into view. She turned and shouted to her parents. “They’re coming!” She’d spent the last hour preparing the pen, making sure the water tanks were topped off and the mangers were full of the sweet-smelling grass hay that several of the local ranches had donated to help out. The horses would be tired and thirsty after the long trek back to the ranch. She wanted them to be glad they’d returned. They needed to see Wild Hawk Ranch as their home.
    Rusty pricked his ears and neighed a welcome to the returning horses as they picked their way down the mountain. Jessica was happy to see him perk up. That meant he had to be feeling better. She joined the old gelding in his corral and watched the approaching horses and riders. Squinting into the morning sun, she scouted for the black-and-white coat pattern of her favorite filly.
    â€œDo you see her, ol’ boy?” Jessie scratched him behind the ears. Rusty nickered as if in reply, but Jessica knew he was just responding to the approaching herd. She searched the sea of bays and chestnuts, spotting the one gray and the blue roan in their midst, but not the paint. Where was the filly?
    She waited until the herd trotted into their pen, then went to join the boys. “Duncan, where’s the paint filly?” She tried to keep the concern out of her voice, but she could tell by her brother’s smile that he saw right through her. Later, when he decided it was time to talk, he’d probably lecture her about not falling in love with a horse they were going to sell.
    He nodded his head toward the mountain. She shaded her eyes from the sun and saw the lone horse hobbling down the hillside trail. “What happened?” she cried in alarm.
    Wyatt rode up beside her and dismounted. He towered over Jessie by six inches. When he smiled down at her, it made her stomach do a funny little flip. She cleared her throat nervously and took a step backwards, waiting for him to speak.
    â€œYour little filly hurt her foot about five miles back,” he said as he led his horse to the water trough. “She couldn’t keep up with the herd, but we made sure she stayed within sight. You might want to walk Rusty out there and see if she’ll follow him into the corral. That’d be a big help. She’ll need to be kept apart from the others for a few days.”
    Her little filly? Was she that easy to read? Jessica glanced around for her father. She didn’t want him to have any idea how much she liked the paint horse. All she’d get was a lecture. She already expected one from Duncan. Her chances of owning the beautiful horse had gone up in smoke the moment the lightning struck.
    Jessica grabbed Rusty’s halter from the rail of his corral and slipped it over his head. She had to stand on her toes to buckle it because the gelding held his head high, keeping his eye on the lone horse making its way down the trail. “Come on, pal.” She tugged on the lead rope and led him through the gate. Let’s give your new friend an escort back to the ranch.”
    Rusty walked at her side, his head bobbing as he eagerly drew closer to the black-and-white filly. Jessica kept the pace slow. Doctor Altom had told her to take him for slow, short walks, but cautioned her not to stress his damaged lungs. Already, she could hear the horse’s breathing grow heavy and they hadn’t even left the stable yard.
    They walked another hundred yards and Jessica stopped near