Page 22 of Silent Deception
CHAPTER SEVEN
If Kristin were everto find out the truth about her dad, she’d need to start asking the right people in town, which meant she’d have to get closer to the Gallaghers. Clint’s warning had only firmed her resolve.
Tomorrow, she would stop in at the sheriff’s office, and this evening, she and Cody were going for a nice ride...in the right direction.
When they reached the end of their pasture, she twisted in her saddle and rested a palm on Boots’s broad rump. A rusted pipe gate led into the vast, deserted reaches of the K-Bar-C ranch, where there would be many other homesteaders someday. “How’s it going?”
Cody tipped his junior-size Stetson back with a forefinger, mimicking the cowboys he’d seen in town. “Way cool. Rebel is the best ever!”
“Yes, he is.” The gentle gelding plodded along, his head low and swinging with every step. So far, he’d ignored grouse flying up in front of his nose, a pair of deer bounding through the trees, and had sidestepped an armadillo trundling across the path. For an inexperienced nine-year-old rider, Rebel was worth his weight in gold.
She dismounted and wrestled with the rusted hook and chain, opened the gate and led her horse through, then waited for Cody to pass. “Miranda tells me that the Home Free program owns thousands of acres, including a five hundred acre section of land adjoining ours. She says it’s okay to ride here because there’s no livestock in it now.”
Cody lifted a water bottle from the twin leather pouches hanging on each side of his saddle horn—and took a long swallow. “We shoulda brought a picnic supper.”
“Maybe next time. I’m sure we’ll be riding here a lot.”
The plat maps she’d studied showed that while her own property line abutted a small part of Four Aces land, heading two miles across a corner of the Home Free property could take her almost within sight of the main barns and house.
With luck, they might see someone across the fence and strike up a casual conversation. A ranch hand who had worked with her father would be perfect, because Clint had made it clear enough that she wasn’t welcome on his ranch, or near his precious son.
“This is just like in the cowboy movies,” Cody breathed. “Can we gallop?”
“Western horses walk, jog, lope, and do a flat-out run.I’ll jog on Boots, and you see if you can make Rebel jog, too. Just squeeze with your lower legs and click your tongue at him if he doesn’t go.”
Boots moved into a nice slow jog with the barest pressure of her calves. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Rebel still plodding along half asleep. “Well, try nudging him with both heels, then...okay, now try again, harder.”
Rebel belatedly lifted his head and must’ve realized he was being left behind. He sped up into a rough, fast trot, with Cody hanging on to the horn and laughing as he bounced haphazardly in the saddle. Once they caught up, the old gelding slowed to match Boots’s speed.
“I did good, right? I stayed on, and I made him go!”
It had likely been herd instinct rather than boy power that launched the horse briefly into second gear, but Kristin just gave Cody an encouraging smile. “You’ll get better every day.”
They followed the fence line, winding through stands of cedar and live oak, over sandy, pebbled ground and several grassy, low-lying meadows. Rocky crags jutted out of the hillsides, and at the top of each rise, the beauty of the rolling land made her wish she were good with watercolors.
Her hope of seeing someone from the neighboring ranch faded when they reached a tumbledown line shack in a hollow several miles from home. A glance at her watch told her it was time to head back.
“Cool! Can we explore it?” Cody leaned out of his saddle to peer at the broken timbers and sagging walls.
“No.”Visions of rattlesnakes and scorpions hiding there made her speak too sharply. Striped bark scorpions were all too common in this part of Texas, and they sure could sting. “Stay on your horse, Cody!”
Startled, Cody twisted around to look at her. With a cry, he lost his balance and slid into a heap on the ground at his horse’s feet. “Ouch!” he yelped, jerking his hand back. “Stickers!”
Rebel promptly lowered his head and nibbled at dry tufts of grass, apparently unfazed by the fall and grateful for any opportunity to graze.
Dismounting, Kristin tied Boots to a nearby cedar tree, then eased over to grab Rebel’s reins. She hunkered down next to Cody. “Are you okay, honey?”
“No! Look.” His lower lip trembling, he held up a hand festooned with a haze of fine, nearly invisible cactus spines. “They burn—really bad.” He lifted his tear-filled gaze up to his saddle. “How am I gonna get back up there?”
“No worries, sweetie. I’ll lift you up, so you don’t need to pull yourself up with that hand. I’m sure Rebel will just follow Boots home so you won’t have to guide him at all.”
