Saddle Up Read Online Free Page A

would win the fight, he said to me, ‘The one you feed.’ That’s why he won’t see me now, Ton,” he said woodenly. “Because I fed the black wolf.”
    â€œThey still love you, Keith,” Tonya said. “They’re just deeply disappointed. Until you find some way to make amends, you are as good as dead to them.”
    â€œBut how am I supposed to do that?” he asked. “I’ve come back like a beaten dog. I work hard. I keep my nose to the ground and bring no attention to myself. I even cut off my hair! What more can I do? I feel like I have a gaping hole”—he brought his hand to his left breast—“right here.”
    â€œI don’t know the answer. I wish I did, but until you figure it out, I think you should leave the rez. Take the job and get away for a while. Find what you’ve lost.”
    â€œAnd what’s that?”
    â€œYourself, Cuz. You don’t even know who you are anymore, and you won’t belong anywhere until you do.”

Chapter 4
    Los Angeles, California
    â€œYou’re back already?” Miranda remarked in surprise. After several nonspeaking parts in low-budget horror flicks, Lexi had finally scored her first big role in a film called Zombie Cheerleaders from Mars .
    â€œYup. Low budget always means a lightning-fast shoot.” Lexi dropped her bags on the kitchen floor and then reached into the fridge for a Dr. Pepper. “Want one?”
    â€œNo, thanks.” Miranda hated even the smell of the sickly sweet stuff, but Texas-born Lexi had practically been bottle-fed on it. “So how was it?” she asked.
    â€œOmigod,” Lexi groaned. “Have you ever been to the Black Rock Desert? There is absolutely no sign of civilization for hundreds of miles. It’s like being on the surface of the moon! On top of that, it was blistering during the day and freezing at night. There was only one motel for fifty miles and only one place to eat. Most of us had to camp out in tents and cook our own food, an experience I never want to repeat.”
    Miranda shuddered at the thought. Lexi’s cooking skills were atrocious, even in the best of circumstances. The girl burned holes in boiled eggs.
    â€œThe only highlight was meeting this smoking-hot camera guy named Kent,” Lexi said.
    â€œOh yeah? Did he cook?” Miranda asked.
    â€œNo.” Lexi grinned. “But food was last on our minds.”
    â€œOh.” Miranda flushed.
    â€œHow was your week?” Lexi asked.
    â€œI filmed a hemorrhoid commercial,” Miranda replied dryly, dismayed that it was her greatest claim to fame since graduating film school.
    â€œWe all have to pay our dues,” Lexi replied.
    â€œI know.” Miranda sighed. “But I came to L.A. to make films . I just wish Bibi would give me a chance.”
    â€œWhat about that horse-whisperer gig you did?” Lexi asked.
    â€œYou mean the one she took all the credit for?” The innovative camera work Miranda contributed to the short production had even garnered an award.
    â€œI never dreamed I’d still be waiting tables after all this time, either, but the fact is, most of us never do get a break. If you could only bring yourself to compromise your ideals a little, maybe you could get more freelance work.”
    â€œBut I hate all the commercial crap.”
    â€œRanda, honey, until we make it big, my tips and your commercial crap pays our bills.”
    â€œI know you’re right,” Miranda replied. “I just want a tiny bit of creative freedom. Maybe I should make a documentary. They don’t cost much to produce. I’d just need to find the right subject.”
    Lexi chewed her lip pensively. “You know, if that’s what you’re looking for, I just might have a lead for you.”
    â€œA lead? What do you mean?” Miranda asked.
    â€œI was hanging out with Kent on his break when this guy from the Bureau of