A/N. + disclaimer, I don't own The Phantom Stallion. Bold dialogue is directly from the book, so I don't own that either.

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Chapter 8

Grandpa slowly lifted his head and turned towards, the fire. He focused his gaze on Linc Slocum, Sam, I and seemly everyone else did too, as conversation stopped. The only voice that could be heard was Grace's "What will you do with them, Linc?"

I didn't know who them was, but considering it involved Linc, I knew it couldn't be good and somehow Sam would end up in the middle of it. "Not exactly sure, ma'am. Could be I'll raise them like beef, or maybe keep 'em penned on my place to hunt. Not for myself, you understand, but for those dudes who've never been closer to one than a restaurant buffalo burger." Linc talked louder than necessary knowing everyone's attention was on him and loving it.

As he snorted out his pleasure, like a pig, Jed muttered, "First I've heard of it," as Brynna strode into the light of the fire, face set. Body language clearing saying she disapproved of this, 100% sure she was right and would refuse to back down. It's scary how alike she and Sam are, and their not even blood relatives.

Wyatt must have agreed. He murmured to Jed, "Hang onto your hats"

"Linc, hunting bison wouldn't be all that sporting, would it?" It was technically a question, but the way Brynna said it made it more of a statement. A couple of neighbors sent each other questioning looks. I wasn't really sure myself as there are no buffalo in Nevada, particularly in the high desert. I knew from a school report that bison were dangerous. If I remember correctly in Yellowstone National Park they hurt three times as many people as bears. Some people raised them like cattle, but they aren't domesticated animals and can be quite dangerous. Still, shooting a penned animal didn't seem very sporting. Putting them on the range would endanger everyone on the range and threaten livelihoods. There was enough competition between mustangs and cattle for resources; I don't know how the environment could handle another non-native species. Not the Linc would care.

Proving me right Linc just shrugged and replied "I just like the look of them" A few people laughed, but a tense silence remained.

Till it was broken by Jen's incredulous voice, amplified by the silence, "Honestly, that would be just like hunting cows! A few people seemed to be voicing the same thought but not nearly so openly or loudly. Jen quickly covered her mouth but the damage was done, all eyes had turned towards her and Ryan who happened to be standing next to her. He was tense and Linc looked livid. The expression don't bite that hand that feeds you, came to mind and I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for her. Jen and I might not get along, but she was obviously uncomfortable with all the attention and I wouldn't wish for my worst enemy to be under the power of a Slocum.

Linc gave an obviously fake laugh and waggled his finger at Jen, clearly trying to "put her in her place". "There you go chattering just like my girl. But you probably haven't heard they're pretty fierce" I thought that was a bit harsh. She probably should have kept quiet, but I wouldn't like being compared to Rachel. Despite how cozy she was with her twin I had the feeling neither did Jen. If I was being honest Jen was smart and loyal, if not a bit of an overbearing know-it-all, I couldn't think of a girl so near the polar opposite of Rachel, except maybe Sam.

Linc continued waving his hand from his head down to his shoulders. "And for just the skull and cape, some hunting ranches are getting two or three thousand dollars. More than that if you let the costumer keep the meat." So much for "just liking the look of them". I'm pretty sure; Sam was thinking the same thing because she shifted uncomfortably beside me. Next to her Grandpa and Jed clearly weren't thrilled either. Both stood rigidly with their arms crossed and faces blank. I got the feeling that they were upset for two completely different reasons, but neither one voiced it.

Not too surprisingly, Mrs. Allen was the one to speak up. I would never tell Sam this but I was kind of worried Sam would grow up to be like her. Not that Mrs. Allen didn't have a lot of good qualities or wasn't a nice person. She was artistic, stubborn, righteous, kind hearted (towards animals at least) and well, I put this politely and say eccentric. All qualities Sam possesses (though I'd be willing to argue, eccentric) and all qualities that led her to adopt, against reason I might add, fourteen unadoptable mustangs starting a sanctuary. I could she Sam doing something like that all too easy. The differences would be photography instead of paintings and more than just horses would find their way into Sam's sanctuary.

She cautioned "You want to be sure and have them tested before you out them out on the range. I was reading about some trouble they had in Montana with beefalo – the crossbred you know – carrying disease."

Haughtily, Linc replied "Probably I'll keep them penned with my Brahmas – continuing over Jed's mumbled,

"Ain't that gonna be a hoot."

"–but thanks for your advice," He paused and looked around for laughter. He got none. She raised a legitimate concern for those whose livelihoods depended on cattle. Also, Mrs. Allen may not have fit in to our community well, but she was stilled apart of it and since the only really attempts Linc had made to join was to buy or bolster his way in: he wasn't. Seeing he wasn't getting any support he fell back to those methods. "Well maybe we'll think of some way to show off my buffalo and help publicize your Super Bowl of Horsemanship at the same time." He struggled to pull the flyer out of his too tight jeans. I don't know what he was thinking wearing them. I knew he went for the stereotypical Hollywood cowboy look, but come on; even the women around her didn't wear pants that tight. He finally managed to wiggle the flyer free. "Don't ya think people would like to look over an authentic herd of buffalo while they're waiting for my son to win the race?"

Ryan jumped in, "You flatter me, father. There are many talented riders here –"

"Oh, knock off the false modesty boy." I never thought I'd agree with Linc. I was tired of Ryan acting so polite, while subtly trying to lord himself over us. He thought he was better than us. "You're a top –notch rider and Sky Ranger's in prime condition for a race. They might know the lay of the land better, but that only means you use one of them for your partner.

That might be a little harder than he thinks. The Slocums weren't very well liked and I don't think anybody would like being used as a partner. I rethought that as a glanced over at Ryan and saw Jen standing next to him. She'd be his partner no matter what. Linc confirmed that with an exaggerated wink aimed at her. Now I really wish I wasn't doing this manhood thing. Sky Ranger might be in top condition, but so is Witch. The race is a relatively short distance, so a thoroughbred wouldn't really have an advantage over a Quarter Horse. Jen will probable ride Silly, who's physically could out run Ace, assuming she doesn't spook. But, while not a tangible advantage a mustang running on his home range, would give Ace an edge. I think Sam and I would beat them easily. We've raced that course countless times. Ace would walk through fire for Sam and Witch almost always does was I ask. Both our horses also have the right attitudes to run a competitive race, I don't think theirs do.

As I thought the tension grew, and just like in the kitchen Grace dissolved it, calling out "I guess no one's going to finish these tacos or eat this cake. What's a person to think when there's an entire yellow layer cake just going to waste? I guess maybe I should whistle for the dog and see if he'll eat it."