The black and white filly danced at then end of the lead. She let out a loud whinny and looked around, making sure everyone knew that she was there. I rolled my eyes, used to Image's drama. It was part of what I loved about the six month old filly.
My friend, Nick Graham, who was holding the gate open for us, just laughed. "Jas, I still think you gave her the wrong name. Image is okay, but you shoulda named her Diva or Miss America." He said.
I shook my head, knowing he was right. From the first time I'd seen the filly she'd wanted to be the center of attention. I could still remember walking out into the pasture to try to find Lady, Image's mother, because she hadn't come in for breakfast. I'd found her with a newly born foal, only a few hours old. The first time I'd seen Image I knew she was something special. She'd been up and walking and hadn't been one bit afraid of me as I checked her over. Ever since then I'd had a bond with the filly.
A tug on the lead rope jerked me back to the present. I glanced at Image; who was finally walking through the gate.
Nick shut the gate behind us then walked with us up to the barn.
The sun was setting, casting an orange glow on Blue Creek Ranch. I'd lived here my whole entire life and I couldn't imagine a better place to live.
I lead Image into the barn and put her into her stall, taking off her halter. She bounced over to her hay net, grabbing a few wisps of hay. I went over to her and patted her neck. "Night Image," I said, grabbing the halter and leaving the stall. I latched it carefully, and then hung the halter up.
"Are you staying for dinner?" I asked Nick.
Nick actually lived on the neighboring ranch, but he worked for my Dad, and most of the time he hardly ever left. He was my best friend, but he also was a little bit like an annoying older brother.
He shrugged. "What's your Mom making?"
"I don't know," I said, rolling my eyes and we walked out of the barn. Nick shut the barn door and I latched it, then we started walking towards the two story log house I lived in.
He shrugged again. "Guess it can't hurt to stay," he said.
He opened the door, letting me walk in first.
Mom and Dad were already inside, Dad sitting at the kitchen table with Charlie, my three year old brother on his lap, and Ashlea, my one year old sister, in her high chair.
Mom was at the oven, still wearing her BLM uniform where she worked part time. "Hey guys," She said, nodding to the table for us to sit down.
There were six spots set at the table and I smiled. Of course Mom knew Nick would end up staying for dinner.
"Did you hear about the Rainys?" Mom asked, carrying a serving dish to the table and glancing at Dad.
He set his worn out Stetson on the hat hook by the door and sat down again. "The horse they lost?" He asked.
"Did something happen to one of their horses?" I asked, glancing from Dad to Mom. Ryan Rainy was one of my really good friends.
Dad nodded, solemnly. "Yeah, one of their mares came up missing yesterday. Right from their barn. Pretty sure she was stolen."
"Stolen?" I asked.
"Really?" Nick echoed, looking surprised he hadn't heard about that.
Dad nodded again. "That mare isn't the first to go missing either," He said. "The Trenchers had a yearling go missing a few days ago and some other ranchers have complained about missing horses too."
My throat went dry and I looked at the food in front of me. I didn't have much of an appetite. The idea of any of our horses getting stolen was just to awful to imagine.
"Have they found of them?" I asked, even though I knew what the answer would be. When horses were stolen they were rarely ever seen again.
Mom shook her head, without a word.
I frowned and looked at my food again.
Dad must have seen the look on my face. He put his fork down for a minute. "Don't go worrying about this Jasmine," He said. "Nothing's gonna happen to any of our horses. Lance would hear anyone coming into our barn and if he didn't Blue would," He said, speaking of Blue Creek's Forman, Lance, and our ranch dog, Blue.
It didn't really make me feel better but I tried not to think about it.
Nick changed the subject to something about a world class cow horse being sold and I half listened, trying to take a few bites of my dinner.

"15 pages of homework," I complained to Nick as he turned his truck into our driveway.
"Hey," He said, stopping the truck in front of the house. "Try doing the homework for 11th grade, I hardly have time to ride anymore," He said, opening his door and getting out.
You sure find plenty of time to stay at our house! I couldn't help but think. I liked Nick a lot but sometimes he could get on my nerves, and today was one of those. When he'd picked me up to take me to school all he'd done was talk about the stolen horses, which just made my fears from last night come back.
I got of the truck and shut the door, carrying my backpack into the house, then grabbing my boots and Stetson and headed back out the door towards the barn.
Nick went over to Banjo, his quarter horse mare, stall to take her out for a ride and I went over to my riding horse's stall.
Ivy had her head over the stall door, waiting for me. She whickered at me.
"Hey sweetie," I said, running my hand down her neck. "Ready to go for a ride?" I asked.
It was hard to believe that this was the same mustang my mom had ended up fostering seven months ago. She'd been trained once before, when she was younger, but she'd gotten away from her old owners after they'd owned her for three years. When they had gotten Ivy off the range the BLM had contacted her owners, who said they didn't' want her anymore.
We were pretty sure those owners had abused her. When we'd gotten her she'd been headstrong and full of spirit. She hadn't wanted anything to do with people and anytime any of us had tried to touch her she'd freaked out.
Nick and I had worked patiently with her, gaining her trust and finally after a long month and a half she'd finally started responding to us. Since then it'd been a long road of retraining her and getting her back into good shape.
I patted her nose again, and then walked to the tack room, stopping to see if Image was still in the barn or if Dad had turned her out. He had so I kept walking. I grabbed my saddle and headed back to the stall, spending a while brushing her, and then tacking her up.
I finished tacking her up and lead her into the barn yard, and noticed that Dad was standing outside now; talking to a man I'd never seen before. I studied the guy for a second. He was tall and wearing western clothes that didn't look quite right on him. I frowned, wondering what he was doing here.
"What are you staring at?" Nick asked, coming over to me, holding onto Banjo's reins.
"Nothing," I said, turning back to Ivy to tighten the girth. "I was just wondering how that guy was."
"What guy?" He asked.
I rolled my eyes. "That guy, with Dad," I said.
He glanced over towards Dad. "Oh, I think that's the guy that bought the old Riddler's place."
"Someone bought the Riddler's place?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yep. At least that's what I'd heard."
"What do you think he's doing here?" I asked, swinging up into the saddle and gathering up my reins.

Nick shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"
"Hey Jas, come here!" Dad called.
I rode Ivy over, stopping a few feet away.
"Jack, this is my daughter, Jasmine and her friend, Nick Graham. Jas, this is Mr. Sterling. He's looking for some horses." Dad said.
Mr. Sterling nodded to me and Nick. "Yep, that's right. I like the looks of some of your Dad's foals," He said, turning to look at the pasture Dad kept the weanlings in. "Especially that one." He said, pointing.
I followed his finger and saw to my horror that he was pointing at Image. I turned to stare at Dad. Dad wouldn't sell Image would he?
Well why not. I sighed. I'd tried to get up the courage to ask if we could keep Image, but every time I started too, I never could. There was really no reason for him not to sell Image.
Dad looked at Image for what seemed like forever, and then finally looked back at Mr. Sterling. "Well I hate to disappoint you, Mr. Sterling, but we're not sellin' that filly. She's Jas's project," He said.
I couldn't believe it. I was pretty sure I hadn't been this happy since I found out we were keeping Ivy. I grinned. Wow. Image wasn't gonna be sold.
I glanced back at Mr. Sterling, who was frowning. "Mr. Creek-"
"Jake," Dad cut in. He hated it when people called him anything other Jake.
"Jake," Mr. Sterling amended. "I wish you'd reconsider. I'm willing to pay a considerable amount for that filly."
Dad just shook his head. "I've got plenty of other foals that are just as nice."
"I want that one."
I couldn't believe it, this guy sounded like a whinny kid. I glanced over at Nick, was watching with a skeptical look.
Dad looked like he felt the same way. "Sorry," He said simply.
"Well, fine," Mr. Sterling said, putting his brand new looking Stetson and walking towards his truck. "Good Day," He said.
I glanced at Dad. I was sorry that Dad had lost an oppuritiny to sell a foal, but on the other hand I couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to sell Image.
"Sorry about not sellin' a baby, Dad," I said, looking at him. I did mean it, but in some way I was also saying thank you.
And I knew he saw it. He smiled, pulling his hat brim down a little. "its fine Jas. Don't think that guy knows anything about horses to begin with. You kids go enjoy your ride," He said, turning towards the house.

"Hear that Image, you aren't going anywhere." I murmured to her, putting her halter on her to bring her in for the night.
She looked at me, and I just smiled, rubbing her neck.
I finished putting the halter on and lead her into the barn. For once she didn't fight, she just followed me up to the barn. I put her in stall and then went to check on Ivy and Lady, Image's Mother, before heading into the house of the night.

Bang. Crash. Boom.
I jumped up in bed, surprised at the loud noises. I jumped up from bed and ran over to the window, looking down. It was so dark, I couldn't see anything. I put a hand over my pounding heart, trying to figure out what that could have been. It sounded like it had come from the barn, but I couldn't see anything.
I listened for doors in the house, everyone else must have heard that too. But I didn't hear anything. I opened my door and walked into the hallway. Everyone was still asleep.
I must have imagined that. I thought. I didn't think I had, but usually my parents heard everything.
I went back into my room, shutting the door behind me slowly. I would go back to bed...I could always look around tomorrow morning.

I walked out to the barn the next morning. It was weird being the first person out. My parents had left early that morning to go to the city for some shopping. I'd volunteered to do all the chores. I knew Lance, our foreman would help, and Nick would probably be along any minute to give me a hand. He always showed up early on Saturday mornings.
And in the meantime I could look around. I still hadn't forgotten that noise from last night, and I was determined to figure out what it had been.
I stopped in front of the barn door. There were wheel tracks. I frowned. I was pretty sure that hadn't been there yesterday.
Then I looked up at the barn door, and my hands went cold and my heart started beating. The lock was cut and laying on the ground. I could hear hoof beats in the background, and I was sure it was Nick, but I couldn't think about it. I pushed open the door and ran inside, looking around the stalls. When I saw an open door my heart sank. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't...
"Hey what's wrong?" Nick asked, coming into the barn, holding onto Banjo's reins.
I couldn't say anything, I just pointed towards the stall.
Image was gone.