The Wild One by Terri Farley

Author:Terri Farley
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins

Jake wasn’t a bad driver, but the road to the Willow Springs Wild Horse Center made Sam appreciate her seat belt. The road’s surface was like rock-hard corduroy and her teeth hammered together as they swooped through the high desert.

“Dad,” Sam said, suddenly. “I forgot to ask Gram to give Buddy her bottle.”

“I’m sure she’ll think of it when that calf starts bawling.” Dad must have thought she looked worried, because he added, “Gram’s working out in her vegetable garden. That’s not far from the barn. I think she’ll hear Buddy just fine.”

“Yeah.” Sam bit her bottom lip. She didn’t tell Dad she’d put Buddy out into the pasture, but since it was only a few yards farther from the garden, it probably wouldn’t matter.

Suddenly the road slanted uphill.

“This next part’s called Thread the Needle. We’re almost there.” Jake slowed slightly as the road narrowed, leaving just enough room for the truck as steep cliffs fell away on each side.

“Look hard and you’ll see River Bend.” Jake took a hand from the steering wheel to gesture down the cliff.

Sam didn’t enjoy looking down, but she saw the river, glinting silver-blue in the distance. Between here and there, a maze of trails marked the steep hillside.

“Antelope paths,” Dad said, his finger showing how they zigzagged through sagebrush and rocks.

Then the road slanted downhill and the Willow Springs Center was spread before them. To Sam, it looked like a patchwork quilt with pipe fencing for stitching.

Sam’s stomach tightened as they drove slowly past the pens. On her right horses moved away from the fences. On her left stood an office building and a parking lot for three white trucks with “U.S. Government” stenciled on their doors. Ahead, horses waited as a huge bearded man broke open bales of hay.

Why did she feel nervous, when everything seemed normal? The pens looked clean. The horses weren’t crowded. A hill in each corral insured rain would run off before the mustangs stood in deep mud. Nothing was wrong.

Sam noticed two mares standing head-to-tail, eyes half closed as their tails swished flies from each others’ faces. Then she recognized what was wrong. These “wild” horses looked tame.

A door slammed and a trim red-haired woman in a crisp khaki uniform left the office building.

“Hey,” she called to a bespectacled man standing at a corral with a clipboard. “We have thirty head coming in from the Calico Range.”

“Ready,” he answered, gesturing toward three empty corrals.

Sam heard Jake draw a breath. Clearly he’d listened, too. Something the two BLM officials had said surprised him.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

Jake lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“Since our cattle drive ran right along the Calico Mountains,” Dad said, “I suppose he’s thinking the wild band you two saw has been trapped. Is that it, Jake?”

Sam’s mind swarmed with images of the Phantom running across the range, with Slocum in pursuit.

“Could be,” Jake said, but before he went on, the red-haired woman interrupted.

“Hello,” she said. “Are you thinking about adopting a wild horse?”

Now that the woman stood closer, Sam saw her name tag read “B.

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