Red Feather Filly Read Online Free Page A
Author: Terri Farley
âBut thatâs not going to stop me.â
Chapter Three
A s the crunch of Mrs. Allenâs tires faded, Jen shrugged.
âI donât know why Iâm even thinking about that race. Itâs pretty unlikely a hundred-dollar bill will just flutter out of the sky and into my hand.â
âI bet your partner could pay,â Sam hinted as her eyes locked onto Jenâs and held them.
âYouâre crazy,â Jen said. She threw one white-blond braid over her shoulder, turned away from Sam, and paid a lot of attention to making sure the stirrup on her saddle was centered on the leather.
âYou know who Iâm talking about,â Sam said.
âI havenât the faintest idea what kind of warped ideas are in your twisted mind,â Jen said, smoothing her fingers between Sillyâs cinch and her palominobelly. âAnd I donât want to know.â
âRyan Slocum,â Sam said before Jen could cover her ears.
To give her friend time to cool down, Sam strode toward the round corral to catch Ace.
âRemind me why I started hanging around with you,â Jen shouted after her. âBecause I sure canât remember.â
âYeah, yeah,â Sam called back.
Jen had had a crush on Rachel Slocumâs twin from the first time heâd knocked on her door to say a mountain lion was eating a nearby buffet. Jen said the way Ryanâs sleek coffee-colored hair got messy as he rode made her want to brush it off his forehead. Sam didnât understand that at all.
She agreed that Ryanâs British accent was sort of cool, but it didnât give her the goose bumps Jen reported.
Could that be because Ryan was a Slocum? Sam tried not to be judgmental. It wasnât Ryanâs fault heâd been born into that family. And he had proven himself more trustworthy than his father Linc and twin Rachel. But heâd also kept Golden Rose, a horse that didnât belong to him, captive in a nearby ghost town instead of reporting her to the sheriff.
Jen knew that as well as Sam didâafter all, Golden Rose belonged to the Kenworthysâbut she apparently didnât think about it much.
Sam led Ace back to the hitching rail and tied him by his halter rope. While Ace and Silly snorted andtouched noses, expressing pleasure at seeing each other, Sam watched Jen.
âWell? Am I right?â she asked, finally. âWouldnât he be the perfect partner for you?â
âI wish,â Jen said, sighing.
âItâs only obvious you guys should ride together,â Sam said matter-of-factly. She gave Ace a quick brushing, then threw on his saddle blanket.
âRight,â Jen said. âBut he could pick someone better.â
âLike who?â Sam asked. She lifted her saddle into place, knowing her words werenât flattery. She couldnât think of a better girl rider than Jen.
âLike you,â Jen suggested.
âOh, yeah,â Sam said. She tried to laugh, but couldnât. âI fall off and get trampled about once a month. Iâm sure thatâs just what any guy looks for in a riding partner. Someone heâll have to spend extra minutes on, peeling up off the desert floor.â
Eyes closed, Jen shook her head, blocking out Samâs words.
âYouâre a good enough rider to do this,â Jen persisted.
âGood enough to finish, maybe, but not to win.â Sam took a breath, then she confessed, âMy dad thinks Iâm hopeless.â
âThatâs ridiculous,â Jen said before Sam could tell her about that morning. âHe thinks youâre a fine rider, but heâs paranoid like every other father.â
âMore than most fathers,â Sam insisted.
âIâm the one whose parents wouldnât let her go to school because of bad influences, so donât tell me about protective.â She sighed and looked serious. âYou know heâs afraid youâll get hurt like
Chapter Three
A s the crunch of Mrs. Allenâs tires faded, Jen shrugged.
âI donât know why Iâm even thinking about that race. Itâs pretty unlikely a hundred-dollar bill will just flutter out of the sky and into my hand.â
âI bet your partner could pay,â Sam hinted as her eyes locked onto Jenâs and held them.
âYouâre crazy,â Jen said. She threw one white-blond braid over her shoulder, turned away from Sam, and paid a lot of attention to making sure the stirrup on her saddle was centered on the leather.
âYou know who Iâm talking about,â Sam said.
âI havenât the faintest idea what kind of warped ideas are in your twisted mind,â Jen said, smoothing her fingers between Sillyâs cinch and her palominobelly. âAnd I donât want to know.â
âRyan Slocum,â Sam said before Jen could cover her ears.
To give her friend time to cool down, Sam strode toward the round corral to catch Ace.
âRemind me why I started hanging around with you,â Jen shouted after her. âBecause I sure canât remember.â
âYeah, yeah,â Sam called back.
Jen had had a crush on Rachel Slocumâs twin from the first time heâd knocked on her door to say a mountain lion was eating a nearby buffet. Jen said the way Ryanâs sleek coffee-colored hair got messy as he rode made her want to brush it off his forehead. Sam didnât understand that at all.
She agreed that Ryanâs British accent was sort of cool, but it didnât give her the goose bumps Jen reported.
Could that be because Ryan was a Slocum? Sam tried not to be judgmental. It wasnât Ryanâs fault heâd been born into that family. And he had proven himself more trustworthy than his father Linc and twin Rachel. But heâd also kept Golden Rose, a horse that didnât belong to him, captive in a nearby ghost town instead of reporting her to the sheriff.
Jen knew that as well as Sam didâafter all, Golden Rose belonged to the Kenworthysâbut she apparently didnât think about it much.
Sam led Ace back to the hitching rail and tied him by his halter rope. While Ace and Silly snorted andtouched noses, expressing pleasure at seeing each other, Sam watched Jen.
âWell? Am I right?â she asked, finally. âWouldnât he be the perfect partner for you?â
âI wish,â Jen said, sighing.
âItâs only obvious you guys should ride together,â Sam said matter-of-factly. She gave Ace a quick brushing, then threw on his saddle blanket.
âRight,â Jen said. âBut he could pick someone better.â
âLike who?â Sam asked. She lifted her saddle into place, knowing her words werenât flattery. She couldnât think of a better girl rider than Jen.
âLike you,â Jen suggested.
âOh, yeah,â Sam said. She tried to laugh, but couldnât. âI fall off and get trampled about once a month. Iâm sure thatâs just what any guy looks for in a riding partner. Someone heâll have to spend extra minutes on, peeling up off the desert floor.â
Eyes closed, Jen shook her head, blocking out Samâs words.
âYouâre a good enough rider to do this,â Jen persisted.
âGood enough to finish, maybe, but not to win.â Sam took a breath, then she confessed, âMy dad thinks Iâm hopeless.â
âThatâs ridiculous,â Jen said before Sam could tell her about that morning. âHe thinks youâre a fine rider, but heâs paranoid like every other father.â
âMore than most fathers,â Sam insisted.
âIâm the one whose parents wouldnât let her go to school because of bad influences, so donât tell me about protective.â She sighed and looked serious. âYou know heâs afraid youâll get hurt like
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