runaway horse. Lucky and Cadillac took the steep hills in their stride, pushing ahead to Eden Lake past creeks and waterfalls, across fast-running streams, and up to clearings in the forest where Kirstie and Lisa could ride out onto flat overlooks to scan the valleys for signs of movement.
Beneath them, the land was empty and still. Once they caught a distant glimpse of one of the trail-riding groups; a string of horses taking their riders along the beginners’ Five Mile Creek Trail. Another time, a movement just below their overlook turned out to be a small family of mule deer. Kirstie swallowed her disappointment and headed onto the pasture by the lake.
As they drew near, the sun was high overhead and the heat was building up. The sky was a dense blue, there was no breeze. The girls rode into the bowl of land where the clear lake spread before them, into a world of green and blue silence.
Please!
Kirstie prayed as she rode Lucky across the lush pasture toward the lake.
Even if Rocky isn’t here, please give us a clue!
A blue jay took off from a nearby tree and squawked across the sparkling water. High overhead, a golden eagle soared on the wind currents.
Riding ahead, Lisa took Cadillac to the water’s edge to let him drink. “Hey!” she called. “Kirstie, come look at these prints!”
Rocky had been to Eden Lake. The solo prints of hooves in the mud proved it. He wasn’t here now; the great bowl of rocks was empty except for the birds. But he had visited the spot.
“How long ago?” Lisa asked.
“Not long. The track’s fresh.” Kirstie had dismounted to crouch beside the water. Lucky stood nearby, watching, listening.
“The prints head across the pasture toward that creek.” From the vantage point of her saddle, Lisa pointed to more prints in the soft grass.
A stream flowed out of Eden Lake, across the flat plateau toward a sudden drop. Kirstie recognized Crystal Creek and Falls as a sight that took visitors’ breath away when they first saw it from the trail below.
She also remembered that Hadley always gave a warning for them to stay well clear of the tumbling, foaming mass of water that slid over the edge and crashed between the rocks. Though it looked cool, clear, and inviting, the creek had strong currents and dangerous banks. A horse tempted to drink there could easily lose his footing in soft, quicksand-like soil, then be dragged into the current and swept away.
Frowning to discover that Rocky had chosen such a risky refuge, Kirstie remounted Lucky and began to ride toward the creek. The aspen trees on the far bank whispered gently in the breeze from the ice-capped peaks. The light danced on their silvery leaves and dappled the shaded ground.
“Hey!” Lisa said softly. She pointed to the shadowy bank.
Lucky stopped in the bright sunshine amidst a sweep of green grass and blue columbines. Kirstie stared into the rippling shadows. There was a copper glint, a horse emerging from the trees. Bay and black, with the strange metallic tint. Head up, raising himself onto his hind legs, and whinnying loudly, Rocky greeted Kirstie from the far bank of Crystal Creek.
10
“What now?” Lisa’s question was high and tense.
Kirstie drank in the sight of the magnificent mustang. As if in a daze, she rode Lucky toward the creek.
Lisa followed. “Come on, Kirstie, what’s the plan?”
She stopped at the water’s edge. The creek ran fast and deep. Not far to their left, it disappeared over a narrow ledge of rock in a thundering roar.
“So, we found him!” Lisa begged Kirstie to stop and explain. “You can’t take Rocky back to the ranch, so what are we gonna do?”
“
Me
,” she replied. “What am
I
gonna do? By myself. Alone.”
Rocky came toward them and stood on the far bank, separated from them only by the creek.
“Kirstie, for God’s sake!” Lisa could see she was in pain. Her face was pale, her jaw clenched as she let go of Lucky’s reins and eased her shoulder.
Taking a
Beneath them, the land was empty and still. Once they caught a distant glimpse of one of the trail-riding groups; a string of horses taking their riders along the beginners’ Five Mile Creek Trail. Another time, a movement just below their overlook turned out to be a small family of mule deer. Kirstie swallowed her disappointment and headed onto the pasture by the lake.
As they drew near, the sun was high overhead and the heat was building up. The sky was a dense blue, there was no breeze. The girls rode into the bowl of land where the clear lake spread before them, into a world of green and blue silence.
Please!
Kirstie prayed as she rode Lucky across the lush pasture toward the lake.
Even if Rocky isn’t here, please give us a clue!
A blue jay took off from a nearby tree and squawked across the sparkling water. High overhead, a golden eagle soared on the wind currents.
Riding ahead, Lisa took Cadillac to the water’s edge to let him drink. “Hey!” she called. “Kirstie, come look at these prints!”
Rocky had been to Eden Lake. The solo prints of hooves in the mud proved it. He wasn’t here now; the great bowl of rocks was empty except for the birds. But he had visited the spot.
“How long ago?” Lisa asked.
“Not long. The track’s fresh.” Kirstie had dismounted to crouch beside the water. Lucky stood nearby, watching, listening.
“The prints head across the pasture toward that creek.” From the vantage point of her saddle, Lisa pointed to more prints in the soft grass.
A stream flowed out of Eden Lake, across the flat plateau toward a sudden drop. Kirstie recognized Crystal Creek and Falls as a sight that took visitors’ breath away when they first saw it from the trail below.
She also remembered that Hadley always gave a warning for them to stay well clear of the tumbling, foaming mass of water that slid over the edge and crashed between the rocks. Though it looked cool, clear, and inviting, the creek had strong currents and dangerous banks. A horse tempted to drink there could easily lose his footing in soft, quicksand-like soil, then be dragged into the current and swept away.
Frowning to discover that Rocky had chosen such a risky refuge, Kirstie remounted Lucky and began to ride toward the creek. The aspen trees on the far bank whispered gently in the breeze from the ice-capped peaks. The light danced on their silvery leaves and dappled the shaded ground.
“Hey!” Lisa said softly. She pointed to the shadowy bank.
Lucky stopped in the bright sunshine amidst a sweep of green grass and blue columbines. Kirstie stared into the rippling shadows. There was a copper glint, a horse emerging from the trees. Bay and black, with the strange metallic tint. Head up, raising himself onto his hind legs, and whinnying loudly, Rocky greeted Kirstie from the far bank of Crystal Creek.
10
“What now?” Lisa’s question was high and tense.
Kirstie drank in the sight of the magnificent mustang. As if in a daze, she rode Lucky toward the creek.
Lisa followed. “Come on, Kirstie, what’s the plan?”
She stopped at the water’s edge. The creek ran fast and deep. Not far to their left, it disappeared over a narrow ledge of rock in a thundering roar.
“So, we found him!” Lisa begged Kirstie to stop and explain. “You can’t take Rocky back to the ranch, so what are we gonna do?”
“
Me
,” she replied. “What am
I
gonna do? By myself. Alone.”
Rocky came toward them and stood on the far bank, separated from them only by the creek.
“Kirstie, for God’s sake!” Lisa could see she was in pain. Her face was pale, her jaw clenched as she let go of Lucky’s reins and eased her shoulder.
Taking a
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