SPRING OF THE POACHER'S MOON
Whinnies on the Wind Series: Volume 2
by Angela Dorsey
Copyright 2012 Angela Dorsey
www.aydorsey.com
www.ponybooks.com
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Start of Spring of the Poacher's Moon
Sneak preview of Summer of Wild Hearts
Other books by Angela Dorsey
About Angela Dorsey
Connect
Blood, fire,
Greed-sick ones
Roaring near us,
Searching
Vile, menace,
Death sticks pointing
Eager to harm,
Hunting
Flee, hide,
Innocence running
Never linger,
Escape!
Chapter 1
The world must’ve ended. Mom was actually riding into town. I kept shaking my head, even as I rode my best horse friend, my gorgeous gray gelding, Rusty, beside her. This all had to be a bizarre dream. Mom – my mom – going to town? Unbelievable!
You think I’m overreacting? Then you don’t know my mom. She’s a hermit, a recluse, a woman who moved out into the bush with her baby – me – almost thirteen years ago and hasn’t left since. Not once. Zilch. Nada!
I first knew it would be a momentous day when that morning she casually announced that she wanted to ride over to Kestrel’s family’s ranch, five miles away, to use their radiophone. It’s been two years since she’s even done that.
Anyway, we rode for an hour to reach Kestrel’s house, and when we arrived they gave Mom the unwelcome news that their radiophone wasn’t working – something about a dead battery – and lo and behold, Mom said it was imperative that she make a certain call and that we would continue into town. I was so surprised I almost fell out of Rusty’s saddle.
Because of Mom, I don’t get out much. In fact, I haven’t been to town for five years. The last, actually only, time I went was with Kestrel and her family. Unfortunately, after I got out of her sight, Mom had major second thoughts about me being in civilization – as if one general store and twenty houses can be called civilization! – and she never let me go again. Still, I treasure that one precious escapade to our miniscule town. To see more than one house in one place? Wow! And there was traffic! I even went into a real store and bought a candy bar. It was the coolest thing. And just in case you think I’m too weird for finding something so mundane to be so awesome, imagine never having gone into a store before in your entire life!
Yes, that’s me; Evy, the wild girl.
Luckily, I’m not as bushed as you might think, because I read a lot. But it’s one thing to experience something in a book and quite another to do it in real life. And besides, I’ve never read about someone buying a candy bar in a store. Apparently, it’s too boring to write about – but trust me, if you’ve never even seen a store before, buying a candy bar is quite exhilarating. Just thinking about it makes me giddy.
But enough rambling. As I was saying, I was riding beside my mom and we were going to town. Kestrel, my best friend, rode with us so she could show us where the one payphone was.
And the purpose for this imperative phone call? I deduced it had something to do with Edward, my mom’s agent, who sells her paintings in his fancy Vancouver gallery. In the spring and fall, he takes her share of the money from the sale of her paintings and buys our supplies with them, then brings them to our remote cabin and picks up more paintings to sell. I guessed that for some unknown mysterious reason, Mom wanted to add something to the supply list she’d mailed him, and that this something was important enough to actually ride into town for – for the first time in almost thirteen years! So now can you understand why I was so blown away?
I could tell Mom was a bit overwhelmed too. I know her better than anyone. Her face was pale and her breathing shallow, and with every step closer to civilization she became more obviously distressed. Kestrel and I were chatting about Twilight, my yearling filly, when Kestrel pointed to my mom’s back and mouthed, what’s wrong with her?
I shrugged. Like I could tell her anything with Mom right there. Besides, Kestrel knew about Mom’s hermit tendencies. Maybe she just didn’t know how strong they were.
“How long until we get there?” I asked in my best whiny voice, trying to lighten Mom’s mood.
She looked back at me with a scowl, then realized I was joking and scowled harder.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Kestrel complained, getting into the spirit of things.
“Mo-om, I’m hungry.”
“Me too.”
“Mo-om.”
“That’s enough,” said Mom. Her voice was tight. Okay, so she didn’t find us very funny...
I raised my eyebrows at Kestrel to prepare her for my future mischievousness. “So who are you phoning anyway?” I asked Mom for about the tenth time that day. She hadn’t answered the other times, but this time I was asking in front of Kestrel. Mom might be too embarrassed to say nothing.
She didn’t even turn her head. So much for social pressure.
“Twilight!” Kestrel called beside me.
I turned in the saddle. Twilight sniffed at an ordinary patch of dirt, far behind us, apparently mesmerized.
Twilight, keep with us, I thought to her and she raised her head. Her black rimmed eyes, ears, and nostrils set off the burnished gold of her body perfectly. How lucky I was to have such a wonderful filly.
No. She turned her back to me, then began to nibble some grass.
Okay, so make that lucky to have such a wonderful, if irritatingly independent, filly.
I huffed at her, then decided she was getting too much satisfaction from my irritation and decided to ignore her. I know from experience that it’s no fun being sassy if no one cares what you do.
It worked. She wanted me to be upset with her and when I wasn’t, she felt bored. She sprang into a gallop and raced up behind us.
“Wow, she coming because I called her,” said Kestrel. “I don’t believe it.”
“She’s getting better at listening, I think,” I answered, still privately feeling irritated but refusing to say so. I couldn’t tell Kestrel that the only reason the filly ran after us only because I was ignoring her. No one knows my secret, you see. It’s not that I’d mind sharing. I’m just afraid Kestrel will think I’m a freak and not want to hang out with me anymore. And besides, how do you bring up something like that? ‘Hey Kestrel, I’m a psycho nutcase who can telepathically talk to horses…’ Yeah, right.
One of my biggest mistakes was thinking I could tell my mom. Even though that was years ago, she still questions me sometimes, searching for personality glitches. I think she’s afraid she’s damaged my delicate psychological balance by making me grow up in the bush. But the talking to horses thing has nothing to do with that. It’s just a gift I have. Or a curse. I haven’t figured out which yet. It’s certainly gotten me into trouble at times, that’s for sure.
Twilight drew alongside Rusty, slowed to nip him playfully on his iron gray shoulder, and then surged forward. Snorting, she swept past Cocoa, Mom’s chocolate brown mare, and disappeared around a corner in the rough road ahead of us.
Twilight! Come back! I mind-shouted after her.
&nbs
p; Amusement swirled back to me. She thought I was being funny, trying to order her around.
“Evy, you need to get a rope on her,” said Mom. “We’ll be coming across more ranches soon, and maybe even a vehicle.”
“Yeah, okay.” Mom was right. Twilight had no idea what civilization was like. Not that I was an expert or anything.
Twilight. Danger. Come back.
“Twilight!” Kestrel called beside me.
I felt the filly slow and then turn. One thing she’d learned as a wild horse – trust your herd mates when they say there’s danger. She met us on the corner and I slid off Rusty’s back with the lead rope in my hand. Twilight let me clip the rope to her halter without a quibble. First, she’s Miss Wild-and-Free and now she’s all domestic. Was I ever going to figure her out?
“I should be a horse trainer,” said Kestrel. “That’s the second time Twilight’s listened to me.”
I climbed back into Rusty’s saddle, Twilight’s lead rope in my hand. “You should be. Maybe we can be world famous horse trainers together.”
Kestrel nudged her mare, Twitchy, with her heels. Twitchy didn’t move. She’s old and permanently tired. When Mom asked Cocoa to walk on, the other horses, including Twitchy, stepped out behind her. Kestrel made a face at Twitchy’s flopping ears.
Where danger? Twilight asked.
Coming soon. Many humans.
Humans. Loathing and fear saturated her thoughts. I knew she considered Kestrel, my mom, and me exceptions to the rule, but still, she could’ve been a touch more subtle.
Stay beside Rusty and you will be safe.
Kestrel was staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Sometimes it’s like you’re completely deaf, Evy. I swear.”
The hazards of carrying on two conversations at once. “Sorry.”
Mom looked back at me and rolled her eyes.
“What did you say?” I asked Kestrel.
“I said, Twilight can be our number one exhibit. If an ex-wild horse comes when we call, lots of people will want us to train their horses.”
“As long as she comes. You know Twilight.”
“If she doesn’t come, I’ll just say that’s a result of your training methods,” Kestrel joked.
“Thanks.” I stuck my tongue out at her.
“Listen.” Mom stopped Cocoa and our horses halted behind her.
Twilight’s head shot up, as if she’d heard a monster. I strained to hear something, and there it was – a distant rumbling.
Bear! Twilight tried to run, but the end of her lead rope was wrapped snug around my saddle horn. When she couldn’t escape, fear spiked through her heart – and into mine, making me clutch Rusty’s mane to stop myself from falling.
Firmly, I forced her fear through the back door of my mind.
Not bear. Truck. Safe… if you stay by me.
Yeah, you guessed it. I feel horse emotions too. In fact, I started out with just the feeling and moved on to developing a language with Rusty, and then recently, Twilight. Most of the time, feeling horse emotions isn’t too bad. Except for the powerful emotions. They can really get me if I’m not prepared. However, because of some of the horrible experiences Twilight has had, that I felt right along with her – lucky me – I’ve learned how to control them.
“She’s never heard a vehicle before,” I said and moved Rusty to the side of the rutted, muddy road. Mom and Kestrel followed, keeping their horses between Twilight and the road.
The truck lurched around the corner, then swayed, bucked, and rattled over the ruts toward us. The driver gave us a wave as she pitched past, her eyes hidden beneath her cowboy hat. Brown pigtails flopped on her back. Within a minute, she and her truck were out of sight, around a corner in the narrow, winding road.
“Poor Twilight,” said Kestrel. “That was scary, wasn’t it?”
I leaned down to pat the filly on her neck. “Do you know the driver?” I asked Kestrel absently. My mind was elsewhere, on my mom, to be exact. The moment the truck had pitched into view, she’d turned her face away from the driver and kept it away until the truck was out of sight. I know she’s shy of people, but still, her reaction seemed excessive. It was almost as if she was afraid the driver would recognize her.
“Yeah, that’s Caroline,” said Kestrel. “She lives a few miles north of our place. She’s kind of weird, but fun too. She has a kid our age. Jon. He’s okay.”
“He’s okay? Really? I thought everyone out here was at least a little crazy.”
Kestrel laughed.
Mom and Cocoa moved ahead, resolutely ignoring our conversation.
“Do you know her, Mom?”
“No.”
“Maybe we should go over to her place and introduce ourselves. You need friends too.” Which was true, by the way, but had nothing to do with why I was suggesting it. I wanted to weasel just a tiny bit more information from her about the biggest mystery of my life: why Mom didn’t like people; why she was in hiding, because that’s what it seemed like she was doing; and who she was hiding from. A few months ago, she’d slipped up and told me we’d only be in the bush for a few more years, which made it even more of a mystery. Basically, I was trying to see if she’d slip up again. It sounds mean, I know. But I was sure that the reason she was hiding away had something to do with me, and I figured I had a right to know the reason.
“I have you, and Kestrel and her family. I don’t need any more friends.” This said in her creepy voice, the one that was so calm and controlled that it could have come from a robot. She wasn’t going to slip up and give me more information right now.
The rest of the ride into town was uneventful, if you don’t count Twilight’s panic attacks. We passed two more vehicles, three horseback riders with an ultra-loud dog, and a herd of free ranging cattle before reaching the outskirts of town – and then things got really tense. Dogs rushed out from unfenced yards to sniff or growl or bark at us. Cars, trucks, and even a tractor raced past. People walked along the roads and greeted us. The people freaked Mom out even more than Twilight. Of course, I thought it was great. I mean – wow – there really are other people in the world!
All too soon, we reached the general store. Kestrel pointed out the payphone hanging next to the front door, and Mom led us around the side of the store. She dismounted Cocoa, pushed the mare’s reins into my hand, and commanded us to stay put, to not wander, to not talk to anyone, to not peek around the corner to the front of the store, and so forth and so on.
The second she was out of sight, I turned to Kestrel. “I’m going to try listening to what she says.”
“Me too.”
I slid from Rusty’s back, and immediately felt his disapproval. He had no idea what Mom had said, but he could feel me being sneaky. Horses are very truthful creatures and are nervous of deception of any kind. But how else was I going to know what was going on? “We can tie the horses to Rusty’s saddle. He won’t go anywhere.”
Moments later, the three horses were secured, Twilight to Rusty’s saddle horn, and Twitchy and Cocoa to the leathers dangling from each side of the back of the saddle.
Stay here, Rusty. Be right back.
He laid his ears back and gave a vigorous shake of his head in protest, but I knew he’d stay.
Kestrel and I hurried to the corner of the store and slowly leaned around the edge. Mom was on the other side of the doorway, her back to us, speaking incomprehensibly into the phone. We had to get closer to hear. I motioned to Kestrel that I was going to sneak up behind her. Kestrel shook her head and motioned to the far corner. She was right. We’d probably hear her better if we were listening from the other side.
But then Mom’s voice got louder.
“Oh no,” she said.
I put my fingers to my lips.
“How much did I make, Edward?”
“How are we going to live on …” She paused, as if she knew she was loud enough to overhear. “Mumble, mumble... need to eat. Evy needs… mumble… a
nd new clothes.”
Silence again as she listened to Edward say something. I felt a moment of hollow gratification. Gratification, because I was right. She had phoned Edward, and she had tried to add something to the list. Hollow, because it sounded like her paintings hadn’t sold well last winter. She hadn’t earned enough to add anything extra to her list, let alone pay for all the basic supplies we needed, like food and clothes.
I stepped softly around the corner. If I could just get closer, I’d be able to hear better.
“Actually, I’m doing something different,” she said. “That might help.”
Pause.
“Yes, I’m still doing landscapes. But now I’m doing horses too.”
I moved one step nearer.
“You heard me right. Horses. Wild horses, to be exact.” From her defensive tone, I guessed Edward didn’t like that she was painting the mustangs.
“Don’t judge them until you see them. And what I feel inspired to create is not your business.”
And then she started to turn toward me.
I ran backward, my heart thumping like mad, as Mom pivoted in slow motion. I passed the corner of the store and dove to the side, just before she could see me.
My landing wasn’t nearly as hard as I expected. Kind of lumpy and boney though.
“Mmmfff,” said Kestrel, beneath me.
“Evy!” Mom’s voice.
I scrambled off my best friend. “Yeah, Mom?” I yelled, trying to sound farther away than I was.
A pause. An eternal, agonizing second passed. Two seconds. Three… “Nothing.” Then her murmuring continued into the phone.
“Sorry,” I whispered to Kestrel.
“That’s okay,” she said, sitting up. She rubbed her knee, then swiped at the mud clinging to her jacket. “I’m used to it. It’s all part of being your best friend.” Kestrel thinks I’m some kind of trouble magnet or something. I don’t know why.
I hurried back to the corner and slowly leaned around the wooden edge. Mom was hunched over the phone, her hand blocking her mouth, and facing me! She said something, then saw me and pulled the receiver away from her mouth.
I was totally caught.
But she had called me, just moments ago… Right? “Yeah? What do you want?” I asked, trying to sound as if I hadn’t been eavesdropping on her and Edward.
“What?”
“You just called me.”
“Go wait for me by the horses. I’ll just be one more minute.”
I pulled quickly back, motioned to Kestrel to follow and ran toward the back of the building. If we only had a minute, we’d better hurry.
Sorry. Be right back, I said to Rusty as we raced past. He looked at me, pinned his ears again and stamped his hoof. Twitchy had been trying to pull him toward a big clump of grass for the last few minutes, and I felt both his disappointment in me and his irritation at the hungry old mare.
We ran along the back of the store, dodged a rusty tractor, turned the corner – and came to a screeching halt. Two men looked at us from where they leaned against a beat up brown truck, talking: an old guy with a black cowboy hat and a young guy with a big grin.
Kestrel raised her hand in a tentative greeting. “Hi, Charlie. Hi, Troy.”
“Hey, Kes. Your dad in town?” the younger man asked, obviously unaware that Kestrel prefers people to use her full first name. She likes that her name is the same as a type of small hawk.
“No, I’m here with…” Kestrel’s face washed red. She knew my mom wouldn’t want us saying her name, “…um, some friends.”
“Looks to me like you two are planning on getting into trouble.” This suspicious comment from the old guy. He didn’t sound like he was joking either. In fact, he glared at us as if he could see a myriad of secrets and schemes lurking in our eyes.
I stared back, then grabbed Kestrel’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.” I pulled her back around the corner, then whispered in her ear, “We can’t listen while they’re watching anyway. We’d better get back.”
Mom wasn’t by the horses when we returned, thank goodness. We untied the three from Rusty’s saddle and remounted, then arranged innocent looks on our faces. Rusty snorted in disgust.
And still we waited. What was taking her so long? Maybe we should have gone past the all-seeing, all-knowing old guy.
Sorry, I said to Rusty. Trying to find out secrets.
Should keep no secrets.
Agree. But she will not answer questions.
Rusty snorted crossly, but I could feel his mood lighten. He’d forgiven me, just a little. Lots of oats tonight, I promised, and I felt him brighten further.
Boots sounded on the boardwalk in front of the store. “She’s coming,” whispered Kestrel.
But Mom wasn’t the one who came around the corner. It was the old guy. Charlie. His eyes swept over us, over our horses – and stopped on Twilight. A cold wind swirled around me. Then Mom squeezed past him, keeping her head down so he couldn’t see her face, and hurried toward us.
“Let’s go,” she said. “No questions.” She swung aboard Cocoa and we turned our horses toward home. We rode past Charlie without looking at him, then Mom asked Cocoa to trot. The other horses quickened their pace as well, and we moved swiftly away from the store.
My neck prickled. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could feel Charlie watching us as we trotted away. I couldn’t help myself, I had to look back just as we were about to round the corner. Sure enough, there he stood on the store porch, staring after us, his face hard lined and his mouth looking as if it was etched in marble. Another shiver spiralled down my spine. There was something about the way he watched us, so intent, so predator-like, that made me want to run and hide.
I told myself to stop being silly and making mountains out of molehills. I’d end up as weird about people as Mom was if I wasn’t careful. Kestrel and I hadn’t done anything wrong. We’d just run around a corner. We hadn’t gotten into trouble and we hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop on him and his friend.
Still, the prickles on my neck didn’t stop until we were around the corner and Charlie was out of sight. I felt Twilight relax then too. I’d been feeling so tense that I’d hardly noticed that she’d been leery of Charlie as well.
Watching me, she said, and snorted.
I saw.
Glad he is gone.
I agreed wholeheartedly, and Rusty chimed in too – somewhat reluctantly, as he was still a touch upset with me. But apparently, the vote was unanimous. We all were nervous of Charlie and would be glad to never see him again. What nerve he had, staring after us like that! He was too rude.