Mustang Moon by Terri Farley

Author:Terri Farley
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2002-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

Sage-spiced smoke made its way into Sam’s bedroom, waking her with thoughts of branding. It was Saturday. She could sleep in, but then she thought of Buddy. The calf had no idea what the day held for her. Suddenly, Sam was wide awake.

She swung her feet out of bed and stood. Through her nightgown, Sam touched her hip. She’d hate to have a scar burned on her skin.

Dad expected her help. She, Dad, and Jake would do the branding. Once the iron was heated, Jake would ride into the ten-acre pasture and rope Buddy. Sam would swing open the gate, let Jake ride through with the calf, slam the gate, then run to where Dad waited with the branding iron.

Sam didn’t feel like eating. She skipped breakfast and went outside. The hens fluttered at the sight of her and scurried away. Dad squatted beside a little campfire.

He didn’t give orders, but Sam knew what to do. She gathered an armload of sagebrush and stacked it near the fire. After a few minutes, Sam realized she and Dad both stood with arms crossed, staring down into the flames. Dad seemed even quieter than usual, probably because of the hailstorm and lost winter fodder.

Dad scooted the business end of the branding iron into the fire. After a while, he rotated it a turn. He did that every so often, sometimes pulling it from the fire and blowing on the iron to scatter the ash. He checked the iron’s progress as it turned from black to gray to red.

Sam snapped a piece of twisted gray sagebrush into small lengths and dropped them into the fire.

“That’s enough,” Dad said.

Sam realized she was feeding the fire to keep from imagining the searing pain from that hot iron.

From the instant Jake loped over the wooden bridge and into the ranch yard, he and Dad communicated in silence. Though they didn’t wiggle their ears at each other like horses, Dad used only a few gestures to outline the plan he’d explained to Sam last night. And Jake nodded.

It was clear to Sam that both men wanted this operation over with quickly. So did Sam, but she had the feeling Dad and Jake felt embarrassed about making such a fuss over a solitary calf.

She knew they were doing it for her.

At last, Dad drew the branding iron out, blew on it, and looked up at Sam.

“That’s what we’ve been waiting for,” he said, showing her the metal had turned gray white.

As Jake limbered up his rope and Witch danced in excitement, Sam jogged to the pasture and opened the gate. The horses stopped grazing to watch Witch lope past, and Buddy glanced up. Grass fell from her lips. She looked to the horses for advice and then, bewildered, jogged where Jake herded her.

Sam blinked back tears. She refused to cry, but Buddy’s confusion made Sam’s heart ache.

Closer and closer Jake herded the calf. Was he going to ride past the open gate and rope the tiny black hooves

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