This is my second-favorite chapter- one specific scene of it, really. My first-favorite chapter is 19, which I'm still wayyyyyyyy too far from posting. The ending is always the best part!
Please a review on this story if you're enjoying it; my notifications aren't working (again) but I'd still love some feedback!
Fifteen minutes of trotting, twice a day. Despite his excess energy, the Phantom was growing more and more tired of that regimen as time went on. He hated circles! Sam knew his patience was wearing thin, but she would never go against vet's orders on this one. She was already paranoid about the Phantom's incision getting infected; she didn't want to take any risks.
Instead, Sam did her best to make the fifteen minutes interesting. They worked on transitions and reversals, and today, Sam made a big leap: she added a lunge line to the process. Maybe that was a bad choice. The Phantom didn't seem to like it very much. He swung his head from side to side, nipping at the rope but not quite being able to reach it. Sam clucked at him, encouraging him to stride out nicely, an idea he was not fond of at all.
"How much time do we have left?" she called.
Jake was helping by being the timekeeper. "Eleven minutes."
"Are you serious?!"
"Yeah."
Sam just shook her head. She took a step to her left, cueing the Phantom to change directions. He obeyed but still made his feelings known by taking off broncing like a colt. Although he was a beautiful animal, he was not ever going to be docile, with or without his testicles.
"Easy," Sam said sternly, trying to bring him back down to a trot. At least this burst of energy was proof he was feeling well.
The Phantom ignored her request and in fact kicked up his speed another notch. Sam tugged on her end of the lunge line, and he gave in for a moment, but eventually he just carried on with his canter. Sam gave up. He was so beautiful when he ran, and he had to feel so cooped up in this round pen after living wild for so long. She could let this one slide.
Once he'd lulled her into a false sense of security, the Phantom slid to a stop and reached through the bars to bite Jake. Fortunately, he couldn't quite get his head far enough to take a chunk out of Jake's arm, but the clanging of the rails made it sound like all hell was breaking loose. Jake still jumped back and swore- he was normally so good at keeping his temper under control. If she wasn't so busy freaking out, Sam might have found it funny.
"Sorry!" she cried, yanking the Phantom's head back towards her. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he grunted. "Don't even know why I'm here. He hates me."
"Maybe you're just here to call nine-one-one," Sam joked. For whatever reason, Jake didn't find that very funny.
Luckily, the rest of their fifteen minutes went more or less without a hitch. Jake was still in a big hurry to leave, and Sam didn't blame him, but she chose to linger at the round pen. It was amazing, how quickly having the Phantom home had gone from an impossible dream to reality. Under the worst of circumstances, of course, but now she couldn't imagine things any other way.
She just hoped, someday, he would be happy at River Bend. She knew he wasn't happy yet- how could he be, locked in a small pen by himself?- but she wanted to believe things would get better. They'd find their connection and it would all go back to the way it was before the accident, like it had never even happened.
Well…maybe not quite like that. Sam's accident had so drastically altered the course of her life that she couldn't really envision life without it. Maybe it would make an interesting book.
Sam was still deep in thought when Pepper and Ross ambled up to the fence. Even though it was early in the afternoon, Sam knew they'd already put in a hard day's work branding cattle- something she wanted no part in, personally. Actually, she took an extra little sidestep away from them because she could still smell burnt hair on them and it was gross.
"Where's Dallas?" Sam asked. It wasn't totally off the table, but more often than not, the three ranch hands stuck together.
"He's fixing the lawn mower. We couldn't take it," Pepper answered. He tipped his head towards the round pen. "How's the stud muffin?"
Sam shrugged. "Well, I don't think he really likes when you call him that. But he's fine I guess." She paused. "How're the cows?"
The two cowboys made eye contact for a moment before either of them spoke. Sam took that as a sign they were going to say something she didn't want to hear, and she was right. Ross flinched. "Well…"
Sam flinched too. "Oh no. What?"
The two boys looked at each other again. They were definitely trying to hide something from her. "Well…" Pepper wheedled. "They were a little riled up. Never had such a hard time splitting calves."
"Maybe it's the weather?" Sam tried. In truth, she didn't know that much about cattle. Despite growing up on a cattle ranch, she had made an effort to disconnect herself from it. If she got too attached or involved, she'd never be able to eat any River Bend beef, and she was pretty sure her dad would kill her if she went vegetarian.
"I dunno," said Pepper. "I think, more like, something's been chasin' em."
Sam's stomach dropped. "Like…a pack of dogs?"
Both boys nodded, but Pepper immediately backtracked. "Don't look all worried. Maybe it's nothing. Numbers were good, so nothin's been eating them."
That didn't make Sam feel any better. "They must just be biding their time."
Dogs and coyotes probably weren't capable of that kind of thinking, but Sam had a hard time not thinking of them like people. This had been personal for her ever since the Phantom got bit. Her family's cattle being involved wasn't exactly worse than that, but it certainly wasn't better.
"Well, we know something's lurking around," Ross conceded. The older of the two cowboys was always quiet, but now he seemed on edge too. "You heard what happened to that horse?"
Sam nodded. She remembered, and she still felt sick to her stomach thinking about it. She looked at the Phantom, and she remembered what happened to him too. He was safe now, but it just as easily could have been him who died. The thought threatened to send her into a full nervous breakdown.
"Yeah, something's definitely skulking around," Pepper agreed. He sounded casual, but Sam wasn't blind. She could see the worry behind his eyes, the tense way he was holding himself. Pepper was more concerned than he was letting on.
"But why hasn't anyone seen them?" Sam blurted out. "It doesn't make any sense, right? They're taking down all these animals, but no one's seen them. Even Jake couldn't track them. Isn't that weird?"
"Well, yeah," said Pepper.
"Animals like that, they're good at hiding," Ross put in. "And coming out of a year-long drought like we are…everything's hungry."
They were no longer trying to make her feel better. Or if they were, they were doing a horrible job of it.
"Somebody'll get ahead of 'em eventually," Pepper declared, stepping away from the fence. "Most likely a pissed-off stallion or a rancher with a gun. We better get going. Got a TikTok to make."
"Again?" Ross complained.
"Do you want me to keep feeding you or not?"
They left. Sam stayed, watching her disagreeable-but-safe-and-healthy horse nibble at his hay. She'd done such a good job of pretending it wasn't happening, but the truth was, it wasn't over. Actually, as far as she could tell, it was only just beginning.
Gram had a hair appointment, Brynna had a job, and Wyatt had cattle to brand. On a Wednesday in summer, that left one person to watch the toddler, and that was Sam. There were worse things, she supposed, but she was keenly aware of the phrase "terrible twos". At exactly two and a half, Cody could be a little monster sometimes, and let's just say Sam didn't want to get bit.
After lunch (grilled cheese, the only thing Sam was genuinely good at cooking) they went outside. As a farm kid, Cody was a big fan of the outdoors. He could be entertained for hours with the barn cats and a couple leaves- at least, Sam hoped he could be. She didn't have many ideas beyond that.
The barn cats were all used to Cody picking them up and petting them in the rough way toddlers did. His favorite was Willow, a shorthair calico that was willing to accept and even enjoy any sort of human interaction. If there was a cat heaven, Willow would absolutely be going there, because she was much more tolerant of Cody's hugs and kisses than any cat could really be expected to be.
Sam got bored of watching Cody lug Willow around long before he did. "Hey, Codester," she said when there seemed to be a lull in the cat-carrying. "How 'bout a pony ride?"
"Pony ride" was a magic word in the Forster house. Cody's eyes lit up and he repeated it in eager toddler-speak. The two of them exclaimed "pony ride!" back and forth while Sam called Ace in from the pasture. Cody didn't have a mount of his own yet; her spunky bay was the closest thing they had to a kid's pony. They would have to do something about that soon- a ranch kid needed his own horse.
Sam's first thought was Windy. Yes, she had committed to selling him at the end of the summer, but if they had a reason to keep him, if he'd have a job…She put the thought out of her mind immediately. Windy was a barely-tame mustang, not a kid's pony prospect. It would be years before he was grown enough to ride, and years more before he was safe for a child. The only reason it crossed her mind was that she didn't want to let him go.
When Brynna recommended Sam train a mustang, she hadn't considered how attached Sam would get. Sam hadn't considered it either. She'd been so excited by the idea of helping a horse, and Windy had been such a pain at first, that it hadn't even really been on the table.
But here they were now.
"Get on! Get on!" Cody insisted as Sam heaved the saddle onto Ace's back.
"He's not ready yet!" Sam insisted. "I'm hurrying!"
She led Ace outside and boosted Cody into the saddle. He scrabbled for the stirrups even though there was no way he'd be able to reach them. His stubby legs weren't even close to the shortest stirrup setting.
"Just hang onto the horn," Sam told him instead. Cody agreed eagerly, his chubby little fingers barely able to close around the heavy-duty roping horn.
Walking up and down the driveway was almost as boring as watching Cody pick up cats, but Sam found it far more pleasant. Ace was not as excited about it- he snorted loudly every couple steps, letting Sam know being a kid's pony was not a permanent career. Despite being close to ten years old now, Ace had yet to grow up, and Sam liked him just fine that way.
Things got more interesting when a truck pulled into the driveway- a single-cab pickup the color of old blue jeans, to be exact. Sam led Ace into the ditch, making room for the truck to pass and supporting Cody with one hand. Sam wondered what Jake was doing here, arriving so late- she'd assumed he was already at River Bend, branding cattle with the others, but apparently not.
She (along with Ace and Cody) met Jake right as he was getting out of his truck. He looked annoyed. He usually just looked neutral, so this was a surprise. "What're you doing? Aren't we going to work your horses?"
Sam gestured to her little brother. "I have to watch Cody. Gram's in town."
Jake groaned. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought you were busy!" she protested. "She'll probably be back soon. Why don't you work Mouse or Rain and then we can work Windy and the Phantom?"
He shook his head. "Got somethin' special planned for them later."
"What?"
Finally, Jake cracked a smile. He could never stay annoyed at her for long. "Some kinda trust exercise. You'll see, later." He scuffed the ground with one boot. "Don't really feel like goin' home. Mind if I play with Tempest while we wait?"
Sam agreed to that readily. "Dad would probably love that."
Now that Windy was living out with the herd (which he loved) there was an available round pen. Jake set up camp there, and Sam positioned herself, Ace, and Cody so she could watch. Ace found a patch of grass to nibble on, and Cody was so happy to be on a horse he didn't seem to care if they were moving or not.
Sam raised her eyebrows when Jake brought out a saddle. Tempest had worn a surcingle before, and Sam had been resting saddle pads on her back since she was a yearling, but she had never been fully saddled. Knowing Tempest's wild streak, this had rodeo potential, but if Jake thought it was a good idea, Sam wasn't going to say anything.
Tempest was quite demure coming into the round pen. She'd always had a soft spot for Jake, a fact that both amused and annoyed Sam. Obviously, she also had a soft spot for Jake, but when Tempest did it, it felt kind of sexist.
Jake tied Tempest to the fence and started brushing her down. He didn't really pay attention to Sam, but she was fine with that. If he'd been ignoring her, sure, it would have been a problem, but she knew how Jake got when he was training horses. He was concentrating, and Sam wasn't going to begrudge him that. Besides, it gave her free rein to check him out a little, which wasn't something she normally had the opportunity to do.
Sam knew Jake was handsome because she was a human being and she had eyes. She wasn't one of those girls who had been mooning over him since eighth grade, but she certainly wasn't blind, either. Dark mysterious eyes, broad shoulders, and ripped arms…she could maybe do without the ponytail, but a lot of guys at her school had mullets, so it could obviously be worse.
The weird, new (or maybe not-so-new; maybe it had been lying in wait this whole time) affection for Jake was more than skin-deep, though. Sam couldn't explain it. Her whole life, she'd thought of him as an overprotective older brother figure- she didn't think of him that way anymore. He still protected her, yes, but they were a partnership now, and Sam felt they understood each other in a way no one else could.
Was she wrong for thinking they had potential to be more than friends?
Wrong, no. Crazy, maybe. Sam's view had changed, but Jake still looked at her like a little sister. He still called her "Brat". Would he call her Brat if he liked her that way? Probably not.
But a girl could dream.
Tempest was fine with the saddle pad tossed over her back- she'd done that part many times before- but she sidestepped warily when Jake introduced the saddle. He didn't just throw it on there; he wasn't crazy. He started by letting her sniff the saddle, then gradually lifting it over her back. After a couple dry runs, Jake actually set the saddle on Tempest's back, letting her feel the full weight of it. Being incorrigible, Tempest reached around and nipped at the stirrup, which obviously got her nowhere.
Jake was a gentle but masterful horseman. He took his time when he needed to and pushed when he needed to push. Sam felt almost in awe watching him, his sense of timing, his careful, controlled movements, the way he effortlessly convinced Tempest getting cinched up was no big deal. Sam felt clumsy just watching the procedure, even though she was certainly capable of saddling a horse herself and had done so less than an hour ago.
Saddling wasn't the difficult part, though. Almost every horse was alright with bearing a saddle while standing still. It was when you added movement that the cinch and the saddle strings started to bother them, occasionally spurring them to take off bucking. Even with all the prep work Sam had done with Tempest, it was a very real possibility.
It didn't happen- at least, not at first. Although hesitant, Tempest obeyed Jake's instruction to walk out on the lunge line, something she had plenty of experience with. Jake's calm demeanor convinced her to take it easy, even though the weight of the saddle obviously had her uncomfortable to some degree. She offered a nice trot, too. Then Jake asked her to switch directions, and all hell broke loose.
Sam had known Tempest was fast- with parents like the Phantom and Dark Sunshine, she was basically guaranteed to turn out a speed demon. She had not known the little black filly had the devil in her. Tempest bucked like she had a full-blown mountain lion on her back, not a relatively-lightweight colt starting saddle. She hunched her shoulders and pushed off with her back feet, a move that would have sent many a rider flying from the saddle. She didn't just do it once or twice, either- she made her whole circle like that, fighting to remove the weight that was unfortunately quite well strapped to her.
Ace looked up from his grazing. As captivating as Tempest was, Sam found her gaze more drawn to Jake. How would he handle the explosion? This wasn't how they'd broke Blackie.
Not that Sam expected him to do things the same way they had with Blackie. Obviously that hadn't gone well. Even if it had, that was six years ago now. Jake had learned a whole lot about horse training since then.
Jake handled it like he always did- calmly and quietly. He clucked at Tempest, pushing her forward without really acknowledging the bucking thing. That was something she had to work out on her own- and she did, after about half a dozen laps in bronco mode. Turns out, bucking was a lot of hassle, and when Tempest realized that, she started to slow down and engage with Jake again. "Easy," he said, just barely flexing his fingers on the lunge line. Tempest slowed from a lope to a trot, and after that, it was easy. She understood what was expected of her.
Sam felt they deserved a round of applause, but she didn't want to cause a distraction. Cody had no such qualms. He clapped his chubby hands together and yelled, "Go! Go! Go!", ignoring Sam's request to hang onto the saddle horn. Jake did look at them then. A pleased half-smile crossed his face and almost turned Sam to mush right then and there.
Luck was with Sam that day. Gram's ancient Buick LeSabre rumbled over the bridge just as Jake was finishing up with Tempest. Sam was able to hand Cody off (he was ready for a nap anyway) and fall into step with her friend. "That looked pretty good."
Jake declined the compliment. "You raised a decent horse."
"It was a team effort."
"I guess."
They unsaddled the horses and turned them out. Ace pulled a Tempest and took off bucking and kicking, a move he rarely pulled under saddle. Tempest, on the other hand, walked calmly to the water trough as soon as she was set free.
Sam lingered by the gate, knowing she should probably be grabbing Windy's halter and getting ready for training. "Jake," she said, tearing his gaze away from the horses on the horizon. "Are you really going to let me help work with Mouse and Rain?"
No response, just an affirmative nod.
"What are we going to do with them?"
A knowing smile, the kind of secret Jake liked to keep. "You'll find out after sunset."
Sam and Jake rode horses together all the time. That was normal, when it was Ace and Witch. It was also normal when Sam lunged Windy while Jake watched and guided, or they wrestled the Phantom into some task that would have been easy for any other horse. This, after dark on Jake's client horses, was decidedly not normal. Sam had yet to decide if that was a good thing or not.
Their rides together were tradition. Training Windy and Phantom was something her dad had asked Jake to do. But riding Mouse and Rain? That was Jake, inviting her explicitly into his world, and that wasn't something he often did. Ever since Blackie and the accident, Jake had preferred to keep her on the sidelines and out of danger. Did it mean something that he had asked her to help him? Realistically, it probably meant his "trust exercise" would be easier with a second rider, but she was still determined not to mess it up.
They went back outside after dinner and a couple hours of killing time. Jake had joined the Forsters for a rousing game of Scrabble, which was somehow weird and completely normal at the same time. For someone who didn't talk very much, he knew some awfully big words.
Jake took Mouse's halter; Sam got Rain's. Under the cover of darkness, Rain was the easiest horse to spot in the pasture. She was mostly white, almost glowing, with a dusting of gray speckles around her neck and shoulders. She was very much the picture of a foggy day, but "Rain" made for a prettier name.
Both mares were easy to catch and saddle. Sam shortened the stirrups on Jake's heavy saddle by six notches to have any hope of getting her boots in them. She hadn't ridden in his saddle since he got back from school; it felt so odd and so familiar at the same time.
"Alright," said Sam, meeting Jake at the barn door. "What are we doing, really?"
He was enjoying it, keeping her in suspense. "You ever had a blindfold on?"
"Well, yeah, Jake," she replied somewhat irritably. "We were all eight once. We've all done the piñata thing."
"For the record, I have never done that," he informed her before moving on. "Horses are good at seeing movement, not so much at running around in the dark. People do alright with just starlight, get me?"
Sam nodded affirmatively, thinking of Brynna's horse Penny and little Faith. "It's a trust exercise." He'd already told her as much.
"Right. Nothing crazy, though."
Jake shut the lights off and they both mounted up. Sam blinked a couple times, letting her eyes adjust ass he settled in Rain's too-big-for-her saddle. Up until then, she hadn't thought to be nervous- should she be nervous? She'd never ridden Rain before.
Maybe this was a trust exercise for her, too.
Jake- the one with the plan- took the lead. He was on Mouse, a buckskin mare who was much larger than the name implied. Sam nudged Rain, and they followed towards the bridge. Of course, Rain responded perfectly and Sam had nothing to worry about- Jake had trained her, after all.
The night was cold. Sam wished she'd brought a sweater, but she forgot about that when she looked up at the stars. Something about that night, the sky, it had never been so beautiful. Sam looked up until her neck started to ache, and when she looked back at Jake, the stars were still reflected in her eyes.
"You good?" he asked.
Sam nodded, even though he probably couldn't see her very well. "Never better."
There was no destination. They just played around on the riverbank, testing the horses' confidence around different obstacles. Sam's worries drifted away- she knew this area like the back of her hand, and speckled Rain turned out to be a trustworthy mount. Jake had a little more trouble with Mouse, but he might have just been trying to show off.
"Jake, she's perfect!" Sam called after she got Rain to execute a trio of perfect lead changes. In the darkness, with no one else around, her voice felt way too loud, but it didn't feel right to be quiet, either. "What's she even in training for?!"
"She's ready to go home. This is her last test."
Sam was taken aback. "And you trusted me to do it?"
A little smirk, visible even by moonlight. "You're the test."
"Hey!" Sam protested, reining her horse over so she could swat at her dear friend. "What's that supposed to mean? If I can handle her, anyone can?"
Jake laughed, a fuller, realer laugh than the little chuckle she usually heard from him. He steered Mouse away from her effortlessly. "Not what I said."
"Oh yeah? What'd you mean, exactly?"
"No comment."
That was Jake's response to almost anything, whether he stated it explicitly or not. Sam tried to glare at him, but it turned into a grin. She found she wasn't annoyed at him. Even if she was just there to test Rain, there wasn't anywhere she'd rather be than under a sky full of stars with Jake, riding and leaving the real world behind.
She saw it happen in real time- Jake's mischievous expression flipped back to guarded in half a second. "We should probably get back to the barn, Brat."
"But I'm having such a good time!" she protested, although she had felt the shift in the air around them too. She had to push his buttons a little- it was in her nature. "Jake, doesn't this remind you of something?"
"Not really."
Sam knew he wasn't going to ask what exactly she was talking about, but she was going to tell him anyway. The chill in the summer breeze, the glowing moonlight, even the mosquitoes buzzing around her bare arms, it all brought her back to another July, long ago. "Remember when we slept in the pasture?"
Jake groaned. "Don't talk about that like it's a good memory. They thought we were missing. They called the police."
"Oh, we were like eight! Everyone else is over that by now!" Sam insisted. "It is a good memory."
A game of hide-and-seek at River Bend had gone wrong. Sam and Jake had hidden too well, lying low in the long grass of the ten-acre-pasture. Kit and Nate couldn't find them, and after a long session of stargazing, the two youngest had fallen asleep.
They'd gotten in trouble, yes. And Sam had found close to a dozen ticks on her scalp later, but there had been something so magical about waking up to the old broodmare, Rosie, nudging her leg. Sunrise surrounded by the horses, Jake complaining about how cold he was, the dewy grass brushing their legs as they trekked back to the house. It was one of Sam's favorite memories.
Not long after that, her mom had died. A few years later, her own accident. Everything had changed since then, but the night view and the wind rustling through her hair brought her back to that night.
"Regardless of how you think about it," Sam began. "You have to admit, the sky looks just the way it did that night."
"Yeah," said Jake. "I guess it does."
Something was missing.
Sam couldn't tell what it was, but she could tell it wasn't there.
It frustrated her to no end.
The Phantom was quiet. Placid, even. His incision was mostly healed; he no longer had to trot for thirty minutes twice a day. There was still a waiting period before he could be turned out with the herd, but he was one step closer to being a functioning member of society. In the controlled environment of the round pen, Sam didn't think he'd changed at all- that was a relief, because she had worried she wouldn't even recognize him, and she did.
But something was missing.
Sam gently pulled a brush through the Phantom's silvery tail. She'd tackled the mane ages ago, but the tail was more intimidating, a thick club of cockleburs and twigs. Five years without any hair maintenance left quite a mess.
"You're disgusting," Sam told him, not really meaning it. He was a horse who lived outside- there was a difference. She flicked a cocklebur off to the side before parting the hair again.
It wasn't entirely true to say he'd gone without any hair maintenance all those years. Sam remembered that night she'd stood by his side, painstakingly combing through his mane with her fingers. That was when she'd made her braided bracelet, which she still considered her most valuable possession. Although, now it wouldn't be so hard to make another one.
The Phantom had a halter on now. He hadn't had one that night in the desert. Sam suddenly realized what was missing.
"Of course it feels different now," Sam murmured, taking a step back. The Phantom's gaze followed her, possibly just because she had his lead rope hooked over her elbow. "You listen to me, you work with me now, but you don't have a choice. Back then, you had a choice, and you still wanted to spend time with me."
It all made sense now. Those brief glances, those moments of connection the years he lived wild, they were all testaments to Sam's bond with her horse. Their love was never meant for a round pen he couldn't leave- it was meant for the desert, a thousand empty acres around them, for the biggest pasture, where a black foal had a whole world to explore but only wanted to follow her and nudge her pockets for treats.
He still loved her- Sam knew that deep down. But he hadn't chosen her. Circumstances had taken that choice away from him, and nothing would be right again until he decided she was what he really wanted.
If she was what he really wanted.
Sam untied the halter and put the brush away. Nothing manmade looked right on him anyway. Maybe she'd come to regret that, when she was struggling to get the halter over his nose for training and Jake was drumming his fingers on the gate. This was the lesser of two radical options, though.
The first, of course, was flinging the gate open and letting him go, regardless of whether he'd come back or not. Sam loved him enough to let him go, and she'd absolutely do it if she could, but circumstances reared their ugly head yet again.