stepped forward.
His willingness tugged at Samâs heart. Ace still had welts from the bites in the camp corral. He couldnât want to return. Yet here, too, Ace was an outsider.
Sam caught the reins and vowed to talk with Jake about horse behavior. Sheâd help Ace if she could.
Sam moved as if she wore ankle weights. She had to go, but longed to stay. She stepped carefully and kept her eyes fixed on the passage ahead. That tunnel would lead her out of the valley. Ace lagged at the end of his reins as she led him.
Ace stopped, and Sam heard the thudding of other hooves. She looked back in time to see the Phantom touch noses with the gelding.
Entering the passage was easy, but the rock tunnel closed around her, dark and creepy. Sam blinked, wondering how Ace walked without hesitation.She could see nothing. It smelled damp, like a cave. She imagined bats sleeping just overhead and her boots slipped on the smooth stone underfoot.
By the time Sam and Ace emerged from the tunnel, daybreak had turned the sky peachy-pink. The high desert lay silent and calm, but Sam wasnât sure what to do.
They stood atop a hill. Not a huge hillâit was about the size of three houses piled one on top of anotherâbut it was steep and she could see no way through the sharp-edged shale covering it all the way down to level ground.
There must be a way down. In last nightâs darkness, the horses had jogged up with so little hesitation, they might have been traveling on a bridle path.
Sam decided to trust Ace. She swung into the saddle, gave the horse his head, and prayed he wouldnât fall.
As Ace started down, Sam stared between his ears and swayed in the saddle, trying to ride loose. Even when Aceâs hoof made something skid away, starting an avalanche that sounded like a crash of dropped dishes, she didnât tell Ace what to do.
Dad had taught her horses were prey animals: Their brains believed that something fast and hungry was always lurking nearby. If a horse shied at a blowing branch, it was because a crouching cougar might have caused that movement. If a horse refused to cross a creek, it was because his legs moved slowly inwater and something on the bank might notice and come after him.
Horses knew pursuit could happen anytime. Speed was their secret weapon. They fought to stay on all four fleet feet. So Sam trusted Ace to pick his way down the hillside, safely.
Just the same, Sam didnât notice the approaching rider until she had reached level ground.
âSamantha!â Linc Slocumâs bellow surprised two sage hens into flight.
Sam ran a hand over her short hair. Its tousled appearance was a dead giveaway that she hadnât just gone out for an early ride. Sleeping against a rock had left her hair mashed in some places, sticking out in wild swoops in others.
Sam hoped her hat would cover the worst of it.
âWhere have you been?â Slocum yelled, when he was still a city block away.
Sam cupped her hand at her ear, as if she couldnât quite hear, giving herself time to think.
âWhere were you?â Slocum asked. âIf Jake hadnât said he knew where to find youââSlocum smirked, glad to have proven Jake wrongââyour Dad would have sent out a search party.â
Sam still didnât answer, because she was distracted. With their horses just feet apart, Sam saw Slocumâs big palomino chew at his bit. Foam had gathered at the corners of his mouth, and he rolled his eyes.
âThis is pretty rough country for a newcomer,â Slocum added.
âI was born here, Mr. Slocum.â
âSo, where have you been?â Slocum squinted past her, but Sam didnât turn to see if the silver stallion had followed.
If he had, sheâd chase him away herself. The Phantom was one trophy Slocum would never have.
âI woke up and decided to go for a ride,â she said. That much was true. She hadnât mentioned where sheâd
His willingness tugged at Samâs heart. Ace still had welts from the bites in the camp corral. He couldnât want to return. Yet here, too, Ace was an outsider.
Sam caught the reins and vowed to talk with Jake about horse behavior. Sheâd help Ace if she could.
Sam moved as if she wore ankle weights. She had to go, but longed to stay. She stepped carefully and kept her eyes fixed on the passage ahead. That tunnel would lead her out of the valley. Ace lagged at the end of his reins as she led him.
Ace stopped, and Sam heard the thudding of other hooves. She looked back in time to see the Phantom touch noses with the gelding.
Entering the passage was easy, but the rock tunnel closed around her, dark and creepy. Sam blinked, wondering how Ace walked without hesitation.She could see nothing. It smelled damp, like a cave. She imagined bats sleeping just overhead and her boots slipped on the smooth stone underfoot.
By the time Sam and Ace emerged from the tunnel, daybreak had turned the sky peachy-pink. The high desert lay silent and calm, but Sam wasnât sure what to do.
They stood atop a hill. Not a huge hillâit was about the size of three houses piled one on top of anotherâbut it was steep and she could see no way through the sharp-edged shale covering it all the way down to level ground.
There must be a way down. In last nightâs darkness, the horses had jogged up with so little hesitation, they might have been traveling on a bridle path.
Sam decided to trust Ace. She swung into the saddle, gave the horse his head, and prayed he wouldnât fall.
As Ace started down, Sam stared between his ears and swayed in the saddle, trying to ride loose. Even when Aceâs hoof made something skid away, starting an avalanche that sounded like a crash of dropped dishes, she didnât tell Ace what to do.
Dad had taught her horses were prey animals: Their brains believed that something fast and hungry was always lurking nearby. If a horse shied at a blowing branch, it was because a crouching cougar might have caused that movement. If a horse refused to cross a creek, it was because his legs moved slowly inwater and something on the bank might notice and come after him.
Horses knew pursuit could happen anytime. Speed was their secret weapon. They fought to stay on all four fleet feet. So Sam trusted Ace to pick his way down the hillside, safely.
Just the same, Sam didnât notice the approaching rider until she had reached level ground.
âSamantha!â Linc Slocumâs bellow surprised two sage hens into flight.
Sam ran a hand over her short hair. Its tousled appearance was a dead giveaway that she hadnât just gone out for an early ride. Sleeping against a rock had left her hair mashed in some places, sticking out in wild swoops in others.
Sam hoped her hat would cover the worst of it.
âWhere have you been?â Slocum yelled, when he was still a city block away.
Sam cupped her hand at her ear, as if she couldnât quite hear, giving herself time to think.
âWhere were you?â Slocum asked. âIf Jake hadnât said he knew where to find youââSlocum smirked, glad to have proven Jake wrongââyour Dad would have sent out a search party.â
Sam still didnât answer, because she was distracted. With their horses just feet apart, Sam saw Slocumâs big palomino chew at his bit. Foam had gathered at the corners of his mouth, and he rolled his eyes.
âThis is pretty rough country for a newcomer,â Slocum added.
âI was born here, Mr. Slocum.â
âSo, where have you been?â Slocum squinted past her, but Sam didnât turn to see if the silver stallion had followed.
If he had, sheâd chase him away herself. The Phantom was one trophy Slocum would never have.
âI woke up and decided to go for a ride,â she said. That much was true. She hadnât mentioned where sheâd
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