Dark Sunshine Read Online Free Page B

swallowed against the tension threatening to strangle her, but then she saw her calf, Buddy, frolic up to the gate to greet the riders. Ever since she’d been pulled from quicksand as an orphan, the calf had been peppy as a pup.
    Dad stripped the saddle and bridle from Banjo and turned the horse into the big pasture. While he rinsed his hands and face at the pump, Sam remembered she hadn’t brushed her hair since dawn, when she had pulled her ratty green sweatshirt over her head.
    She forked fingers through her bangs and the tendrils at her temples, trying to fluff the hair flattened by her old brown cowboy hat.
    Now, saddle and blanket in hand, Dad walked toward the tack room.
    â€œSteady there.” Jake’s voice was so low only the horses heard, but he was talking to Sam. “The worst thing that can happen is we give the mare to BLM.”
    Jake was right, but Sam noticed he hadn’t ridden home for dinner. Suspense had its claws in him, too. He wanted to hear what Dad and Brynna said about this frightened animal.
    â€œWhat do we have here?” Dad asked.
    Sam listened for judgment in his voice, but heard only curiosity about the golden tan mare who refused to look at him.
    As Sam began to explain, Brynna arrived. So did the vet. Gram walked down from the house, too, and all three cowboys put off dinner to see what was causing the excitement.
    Sam supposed she did a fine job of explaining. After all, no one could contradict her except Ace or the rustlers, and one seemed as likely as the other. But Sam was distracted.
    Not by Dad, who stood expressionless as a tree trunk. Not by Brynna, who took notes like a newspaper reporter. Sam wasn’t distracted by the vet, who said he wouldn’t sedate the mare for an exam now, since he’d have to tranquilize her again tomorrow when BLM moved her to Willow Springs.
    Sam was distracted by the girl who’d arrived with Brynna. The BLM woman was so caught up inidentifying the mare, she’d forgotten to introduce the girl who’d come in the white government truck along with her.
    The girl had a pointy fox face and wispy blond hair, and though she couldn’t be more than twelve years old, she was what Aunt Sue would call a “tough cookie.” Hands on hips, eyelids slack with boredom, she looked at those around her—Sam included—as if they were barely smart enough to breathe.
    The vet had to detour around the girl to leave. She wouldn’t step out of his path. Only Sam seemed to notice.
    Was the girl Brynna’s daughter? Her niece? If so, Sam pitied Brynna. The girl looked mean. Her jaw jutted out as if she held a grudge against the world.
    â€œI think they kept her in a dark stall, long-term,” Jake suggested.
    A flicker of fear lit the girl’s face before she gave a forced and noisy yawn.
    â€œIt happens,” Brynna said. She gave the girl a quick glance, but gestured toward the horse. “Even a mustang gets to feeling safe when she’s left undisturbed. Then, when they try to make her leave, she charges.”
    â€œYes, she does.” Sam could have kicked herself for saying it.
    Dad and Gram turned frowns her way. Their expressions said that the hours they’d spent at herhospital bedside, two years ago, were still fresh in their memories.
    â€œWhen I opened the gate up there, she ran for it.” Sam gestured toward Lost Canyon, then made things worse by brushing off the front of her jeans. “I fell getting out of her way.”
    Figuring the girl would be amused by her discomfort, Sam shot her a sidelong glance. She was wrong.
    The girl wasn’t listening to a word she’d said. She was watching the horses.
    In the ten-acre pasture, Strawberry rolled the saddle stiffness from her back, then shot to her feet and ran with the others galloping after. It happened every evening, but you couldn’t guess that by the girl’s expression. For the first time, Sam thought she was