The wood-sided cabin beckoned, and Isabel wanted nothing more than to run inside and lock the door. Instead she dropped her bag on the steps and headed for the corral and adjacent barn. Six horses stood quietly, watching her approach, whinnying softly.
“Hey, fellas. Glad to finally meet you.” She let herself into the corral and kept a respectful distance. Her horsemanship skills were rusty, leftover from summers spent at her uncle’s place. One thing she did remember was that horses didn’t like surprises, especially horses rescued from abuse and neglect, as these had been. Keeping up a steady stream of conversation, she checked to see that the water trough was filled as she made her way to the barn.
She was pleased and surprised to find the barn clean, stalls mucked out and fresh bedding on the floor. It must be the work of Cassie’s hired hand, John. A soft snuffle made her start. Off in the corner, almost lost in the shadows, was a horse unlike the others. He was smoke-black with a streak of white between his eyes. A thick mane flowed over his wide shoulders. He danced nervously when she took a step toward him, but did not back away.
“Hello there.” She could not take her eyes from the powerful lines of the horse. “You must be Blue Boy. Cassie sent me your picture.” She felt instinctively that he must be the one that had thrown Cassie to her death. She should despise the animal, but she couldn’t, not when she knew how much her sister had loved the beautiful creature.
The horse continued to shift around, the straw crackling under his well-tended hoofs. Blue Boy’s coat was glossy and smooth, marred only by the scar that circled his front leg. “It looks like someone has been taking good care of you.” She held out her hand, fingers outstretched, and Blue Boy allowed a quick stroke to his muzzle. “We’ll be getting to know each other better,” she whispered as she backed out of the stall, Blue Boy’s dark eyes fixed on hers.
The first drops of rain splattered on her face as she exited the corral and hurried toward the house. She wasn’t sure how she would get in if the door was locked, but fortunately it swung open under her hand. The interior was dark and stifling, as if it hadn’t been used in a very long time.
Isabel grabbed her bag and started into the house.
Before she made it over the threshold, a loud flap of wings erupted from the nearby trees as an owl shot out of the canopy with an alarmed cry.
She froze in terror.
It’s just an owl.
The thought comforted her for only a moment.
But what was hidden in the silent woods that had startled it into flight?
Hours later, Isabel lay awake, thrashing around in her sister’s small bed. It seemed wrong to sleep here, but there was no other bed in the tiny cabin. The wind increased to a howl and rain splattered in angry gusts on the roof. A squeak from outside caused her to sit up, heart pounding.
It’s just the weather, Is. Your sister wrote you the summer storms were rolling in.
Cassie’s last letter had been chock-full of enthusiasm and even an invitation to visit, peppered with details about an upcoming event in the Badlands. The words were full of life, like Cassie had been. She wondered again. Why had her sister gone riding at night? Had it been a night like this? Wind-whipped and wild?
When the clock ticked its way to 3:30 a.m., Isabel finally threw the covers off and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Little stacks of Post-its overflowed from a basket on the counter. She prowled the cupboards until she found a glass, noting the pantry was stocked with boxes of cereal, soup and packages of Oreos. She smiled. Cassie had still had the same sweet tooth from her youth. She used to fill her pockets with cookies every day before school.
Isabel felt like an intruder poking through the cupboards, as if she was somehow violating her sister’s privacy. Finally she located a glass and filled it. A small window over the sink looked out on the property, moonlight trickling between the thick clouds. Isabel nearly choked as she caught a glimpse of Blue Boy disappearing into the trees.
How had the horse gotten loose?
She didn’t take the time to consider, as she pulled on her jeans and windbreaker from that day and ran into the rainy night, stopping just long enough to grab a flashlight from her backpack. The fence around the corral was open, but a quick head count showed the rest of the horses safe in the barn. Only Blue Boy had made an escape.
Slamming the gate shut, Isabel tried to formulate a plan as she took a bridle from the fence and headed toward the woods. She considered trying to call John, Cassie’s hired man, but she didn’t have his number and was afraid to take the time to search the cabin to find it. There were no neighbors for miles around.
You’re it, Isabel, so figure out what to do.
She gripped the bridle and flashlight more securely. Blue Boy was skittish and they hadn’t yet developed trust between them, but somehow she had to find him and convince the animal to be led back home. The rain dampened the August heat, settling the dust and leaving the air crisp and clean. As she plunged into the trees, she wondered again what had startled the owl earlier.
A cold ribbon of fear snaked up her spine. She purposefully shook it off. No fear, Isabel. Never again.
She pushed her way past rain-soaked foliage and pine branches that slashed at her face. There was a movement a few yards to her right. She thought she glimpsed the flicker of a mane.
“Come here, fella,” she called softly, edging closer to the place where she’d seen him. The trees thinned and the air became cooler. Her flashlight beam picked up only the soaked foliage.
“Where are you, Blue Boy?” She wasn’t sure she would be able to see his smoke-dark coat in the gloom. Maybe in the daylight, but if she waited another three hours she might never see the horse again. If she had arrived earlier and scouted out the property she might have an idea of where Blue Boy was headed, but she was on completely unfamiliar ground that was getting more and more uneven the farther she progressed. Gritting her teeth, she edged closer to a pile of rough-hewn boulders.
The wind lifted her hair, whirling it around her face. A sudden gust of cool air hit her and she took another step forward. She felt a presence behind her.
Out of the darkness someone rose up, pushing her forward with a violent shove. Arms flailing, she fought to keep her balance, but tumbled forward.
A loud crack of rock sounded above the wind, and the ground began to move under Isabel’s feet. She slid on an avalanche of rock down into a ravine, concealed by darkness and foliage.
Rocks and dirt rained down as she tried to shield her head with her arms. Desperately she dug her feet into the sliding debris, but the effort did nothing to stop her momentum as she was carried along.
With a sudden jolt that shook her to the core, Isabel slammed into a boulder at the bottom. A shower of rock fragments continued to move past her until the rush slowed into a trickle and then stopped.
Her head spun and sparks danced before her eyes. For a strange moment, she thought she heard snatches of a man singing.
The old flag, lovely old flag.
She tried to clear the muddle in her head.
Eyes closed, she took stock. Gingerly she moved her legs and arms, fearful of setting loose another rock slide. Wiping
