Run Away Home Read Online Free
Author: Terri Farley
ignored Samâs silent question.
They drove away from Three Ponies, taking a dirt road to the highway along the La Charla River, past the turnoff to River Bend.
Just minutes after Sam thought Kit was dozing, he spoke up again.
âIâve walked down lots of roads at night, but I could tell this one led home. Only saw a single truck on the highway. Even though it had a burned-out headlight, it blinked the other one hello.â
Sam smiled at the small-town courtesy. If thathappened to you on a deserted street in San Francisco, youâd be a little worried over what it meant.
âHuh,â Jake said.
After that, Kit slept without moving, even when the pavement ended and the road up to Willow Springs turned to rock-hard corduroy.
Sam wondered if she should tell Jake and Kit to expect more uneasiness when they reached Willow Springs. Her stepmother Brynna, manager of the BLMâs wild horse corrals, was finding it difficult to get along with Norman White. The man had been hired to take her place as soon as she left on maternity leave, and they were clashing because heâd shown up early.
It had been Normanâs idea to have this unscheduled wild horse adoption event, and it was just the kind of crazy decision that made Brynna put off the start date of her leave so that Norman could do as little damage as possible to the captive wild horses.
Sam sighed. Loudly. But Jake gave no sign heâd welcome a little conversation. Sam was pretty sure whispers wouldnât wake Kit, but Jake kept his eyes focused on the road, and he was frowning.
Twisting as far as she could without bumping either Ely, Sam looked out the window behind her head. She could see a wisp of Aceâs black mane inside the trailer and she couldnât help thinking what she always did: Her bay gelding was better to have a talk with than Jake.
It wasnât until the road slanted up through Thread the Needle, where there was barely enough room for a single car to pass between the cliffs, that Kit awakened.
âPassinâ through Alkali, I stopped for a cup of coffee,â Kit said, resuming his earlier conversation with Jake as if he hadnât slept in the middle of it. âSittinâ at the counter, I overheard someone sayinâ youâre the real horseman of the family nowââ
âWho said that?â Jake snapped out the question, but Kit didnât answer, didnât push his hat brim up, didnât even seem to hear.
âMaybe weâll have to get us a couple wild horses, little brother, and see if you can prove it.â
Chapter Three
H e had to be joshing with Jake, Sam thought, looking between the two.
Kitâs remark surely hadnât been a dare, because he just dropped the idea as he climbed out of the truck and took a look around at Willow Springs Wild Horse Center.
âAinât this a sorry setup?â Kit asked, as he offered Sam a hand getting down.
Sam gave a tight smile and hopped down on her own. Then she surveyed the BLM facility, trying to see it as Kit did.
She saw acres of pipe corrals filled with horses, a wall of hay bales twice as tall as her home, an office building, and a parking lot with white trucks labeled U.S . GOVERNMENT . This morningâs light snow had melted off, leaving mud in low places, but the footing inside the corrals had been designed so that the moisture ran off and the horses werenât standing in puddles.
Brynna worked hard here and so did Hugh and Brynnaâs secretary, her two permanent staff members. Half of Sam wanted to ask Kit to explain what was âsorryâ about it, but she already knew.
Kit was a cowboy. He would protest that the wild horses grazing on his familyâs ranch were competing for the grass that cattle grew fat on. Still, he looked as disappointed as sheâd felt on her first visit here. Sam knew it was because of the horses.
The pipe corrals were filled with mustangs. Mustangs were supposed to
They drove away from Three Ponies, taking a dirt road to the highway along the La Charla River, past the turnoff to River Bend.
Just minutes after Sam thought Kit was dozing, he spoke up again.
âIâve walked down lots of roads at night, but I could tell this one led home. Only saw a single truck on the highway. Even though it had a burned-out headlight, it blinked the other one hello.â
Sam smiled at the small-town courtesy. If thathappened to you on a deserted street in San Francisco, youâd be a little worried over what it meant.
âHuh,â Jake said.
After that, Kit slept without moving, even when the pavement ended and the road up to Willow Springs turned to rock-hard corduroy.
Sam wondered if she should tell Jake and Kit to expect more uneasiness when they reached Willow Springs. Her stepmother Brynna, manager of the BLMâs wild horse corrals, was finding it difficult to get along with Norman White. The man had been hired to take her place as soon as she left on maternity leave, and they were clashing because heâd shown up early.
It had been Normanâs idea to have this unscheduled wild horse adoption event, and it was just the kind of crazy decision that made Brynna put off the start date of her leave so that Norman could do as little damage as possible to the captive wild horses.
Sam sighed. Loudly. But Jake gave no sign heâd welcome a little conversation. Sam was pretty sure whispers wouldnât wake Kit, but Jake kept his eyes focused on the road, and he was frowning.
Twisting as far as she could without bumping either Ely, Sam looked out the window behind her head. She could see a wisp of Aceâs black mane inside the trailer and she couldnât help thinking what she always did: Her bay gelding was better to have a talk with than Jake.
It wasnât until the road slanted up through Thread the Needle, where there was barely enough room for a single car to pass between the cliffs, that Kit awakened.
âPassinâ through Alkali, I stopped for a cup of coffee,â Kit said, resuming his earlier conversation with Jake as if he hadnât slept in the middle of it. âSittinâ at the counter, I overheard someone sayinâ youâre the real horseman of the family nowââ
âWho said that?â Jake snapped out the question, but Kit didnât answer, didnât push his hat brim up, didnât even seem to hear.
âMaybe weâll have to get us a couple wild horses, little brother, and see if you can prove it.â
Chapter Three
H e had to be joshing with Jake, Sam thought, looking between the two.
Kitâs remark surely hadnât been a dare, because he just dropped the idea as he climbed out of the truck and took a look around at Willow Springs Wild Horse Center.
âAinât this a sorry setup?â Kit asked, as he offered Sam a hand getting down.
Sam gave a tight smile and hopped down on her own. Then she surveyed the BLM facility, trying to see it as Kit did.
She saw acres of pipe corrals filled with horses, a wall of hay bales twice as tall as her home, an office building, and a parking lot with white trucks labeled U.S . GOVERNMENT . This morningâs light snow had melted off, leaving mud in low places, but the footing inside the corrals had been designed so that the moisture ran off and the horses werenât standing in puddles.
Brynna worked hard here and so did Hugh and Brynnaâs secretary, her two permanent staff members. Half of Sam wanted to ask Kit to explain what was âsorryâ about it, but she already knew.
Kit was a cowboy. He would protest that the wild horses grazing on his familyâs ranch were competing for the grass that cattle grew fat on. Still, he looked as disappointed as sheâd felt on her first visit here. Sam knew it was because of the horses.
The pipe corrals were filled with mustangs. Mustangs were supposed to
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