Blue Moon (7 page)

I sat there staring at the paper. Then I stared at Cole. “Whereâ¦?” I began. “Howâ¦?” There were so many questions I didn't know where to start.

Cole answered some of them. “Like I said, Dad couldn't get the mare off his mind. He kept saying she reminded him of something. Finally he got out a bunch of papers and dug through them. The poster was put out by a friend of his in Kamloops. He sent Dad a copy just in case he ever ran across a clue to where the mare had gone.”

“But the wagon wheel brandâ¦”

“Yeah, the sloppy wagon wheel with the spokes that don't line up. You know how easy it would be to change the rising sun to a wagon wheel? Look.” He took a pen, sketched a rising sun onto the back of the poster, added a few lines and came up with a wagon wheel.

For a minute, I just sat there in silence. I tried to think of all the reasons why it couldn't be. But they all turned into reasons why it could. Champion cutting horse.
I remembered that first morning when Dad had found Blue Moon out there rounding up cows all by herself.

“Dad says it's up to you what you do about the horse. He's not gonna do anything. He just figured you had a right to know, that's all.”

Before I could answer there was a loud tap on the window. I opened the door. There stood Sara. “You guys steamin' up the windows in there or what?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Get lost, rodent,” I said. I would have said more, but Mom and Dad were right behind her. They spotted the trophy and got all excited and proud the way parents are supposed to. I did my best to act excited and proud, too. But it was all I could do to keep it together long enough to look after Blue Moon and drive Cole home. Then I shut myself in my room and cried myself to sleep.

But I didn't stay asleep. I kept waking up and asking myself what I was going to do. Blue Moon was mine, wasn't she? After all, if I hadn't bought her, she'd be dead by
now. But what if I'd been the one she'd been stolen from? What if somebody had her and knew she belonged to me but wouldn't even let me know she was still alive?

First thing in the morning, I phoned Frank Conway in Kamloops. I think I got the guy out of bed. I forgot that it was an hour earlier in B.C.

I told him the whole story. It took a while. Not only was I going to lose my horse, I'd be broke for a year paying off this phone call. At first, Conway wasn't convinced. But the more I told him, the more I could sense he was listening.

He asked directions to our place. He had business in Alberta the next week, he said. He'd come by and have a look at her. “Okay, that'll be fine,” I said. Then I hung up the phone and bawled some more.

The week dragged by. Half the time I practically lived in the corral, not wanting to miss a single minute of the time I had left with Blue Moon. Then I'd get tough and stay away from her for a whole day, practicing
for when she wouldn't be there. I finally told Mom and Dad what was happening. They were real proud that I'd done the right thing. My dad gave me lots of neat little speeches on building character and stuff. Personally, I'd rather have the horse than the character. Even Sara started being nice to me, so I guess I must have been in pretty bad shape.

Friday afternoon, Cole and I were stacking square bales in the hay shed. He suddenly straightened up and stood looking down the lane. “Bobbie Jo,” he said softly. I followed the direction of his gaze and saw a gray half-ton with B.C. plates pulling into the yard. Cole gave me a long look. “You okay?” he asked. I nodded. He put his arm around my shoulders and we went to meet Frank Conway. When we got closer I realized Conway wasn't alone. Jim McCall was in the passenger seat. He stayed in the truck as Conway got out and introduced himself.

I managed a “hello” and then turned away fast to go and get the horse. I'd been all set
to hate Mr. Conway. It was kind of a disappointment when I couldn't. But as soon as I saw the way he handled the mare, I knew the guy was okay. He talked to her real quiet, ran a firm but gentle hand down her shoulder and walked all around her, looking her over. He studied the brand for a long time and then shook his head. He checked her legs and her hoofs. He was just trying to get her to open her mouth to check her teeth when the truck door closed behind us. We all turned around in time to see Cole's dad walking toward us. He still had the crutches but his legs were straighter and he was putting weight on them. “Never mind the teeth, Frank,” he said with something close to a grin. “I checked them. The age works out right.”

There was a silence. Conway cleared his throat. He pushed aside her forelock. “Well, then, it's her. The brand, the age, but mostly this funny little mark on her face.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a picture of a blue roan colt. Beneath its short,
fuzzy forelock was a perfect crescent moon. He laid a hand on her neck. “Her name's Bonnie Blue, and you'll never know how much it means to me to find her.”

Uh-uh, I thought to myself, her name's Blue Moon, and you'll never know how much it means to me to lose her.

“So, how much did you say you paid for her, Bobbie Jo?” Conway asked.

I told him. Yeah, I thought. If I get real lucky you might give me back my $690.00âand you get the greatest horse in the world.

Just then, Jim McCall spoke up. “Come over here a minute, Frank. Let's see if you're half the horse trader you used to be.”

Conway laughed and walked over to where Cole's dad was leaning on the fence. They talked, low-voiced, for a while. Quite a while. I saw Conway shake his head a couple of times. He looked in Blue Moon's direction a few times. Finally, he nodded and came back to where Blue Moon was standing.

“Jim tells me you beat a meat buyer out of this mare at an auction sale. That true, Bobbie Jo?” I nodded, wondering where this conversation was going. “In some countries they believe if you save someone's life, you're responsible for them forever,” he said. Now I really wondered where this conversation was going. “And,” he went on, “you couldn't very well be responsible for a horse that was way off in B.C., could you?”

I just kind of gawked at him. He turned to Cole. “When I stopped by your place, your dad showed me your black stallion. Some kind of a horse, isn't he?”

“Yes, sir,” Cole agreed, his voice cautious. I could see he was wondering what was going on here, too.

“Your dad figures that if Bonnie Blue here was bred to your black, she might just come up with a pretty special kind of colt.” Conway turned back to look at me. “So, here's the deal, Bobbie Jo. You let this mare raise me a foal from Cole's stallion and I'll
consider it full payment for the mare. Sound fair to you?”

For once in my life I was stuck for words. I just stood there nodding my head so hard I thought I could hear my brains rattle. Frank Conway held out his hand. “Deal,” he said.

“Deal,” I said. We shook on it.

Cole grinned. “Blue Jeans and Blue Moon. Great name for a country music act.”

I swatted him. But not too hard.

NEW Orca Soundings novel

Overdrive
by Eric Walters

“Go! Get out of here!”

I saw flashing red lights behind me in the distance. For a split second I took my foot off the accelerator. Then I pressed down harder and took a quick left turn
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Jake has finally got his driver's license, and tonight he has his brother's car as well. He and his friend Mickey take the car out and cruise the strip. When they challenge another driver to a road race, a disastrous chain reaction causes an accident. Jake and Mickey leave the scene, trying to convince themselves they were not involved. The driver of the other car was Luke, a one-time friend of Jakes. Jake finds he cannot pretend it didn't happen and struggles with the right thing to do. Should he pretend he was not involved and hope Luke doesn't remember? Or should he go to the police?

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