Free Red Feather Filly by Terri Farley Page B

.”
    She also knew his words meant he wouldn’t choose her as his partner. Tears burned beneath her eyelids but she refused to cry in front of him.
    â€œExcuse me,” she said, opening the car door. She held it with her shoulder, fighting the stiff morning breeze as she grabbed her Stetson off the seat. “It’s a little stuffy in here. I need to get out for a minute.”
    The wind snatched the door away from her.
    Great. They probably thought she’d slammed it in a fit of temper. Oh well, that was better than sitting there, crying. She’d rather be thought a brat than a baby.
    A path led down the hillside to the lake. She took it, thinking she should have worn hiking boots or even tennis shoes instead of her slick-soled riding boots. Just the same, she didn’t lose her footing.
    She sat on a gray boulder, buttoned her coat to her chin and pulled her old brown Stetson down. No one would be able to see her eyes.
    The rock was freezing cold through the seat ofher jeans, but that was just what she needed. Shock therapy. She blinked. Amazingly, her tears had evaporated or retracted or something. They were gone, so she could go back to the car. Quick fix. Perfect.
    Not quick enough, though. A rush of falling gravel made her turn. Jake and Mac were coming down after her.
    Jake was a few steps ahead of his grandfather. His jacket, a lot like hers, was open over a brick-colored tee shirt. He must be freezing.
    She hoped so. She wondered how long it took for hypothermia to set in. Maybe she should stall and keep him down here for a while.
    Sam stood, hands on hips. “Ready to go?” she snapped.
    Jake looked up from watching his boots navigate the trail. He stood still. His hair wasn’t tied back like it usually was and the wind tossed it around with such fury, for a minute he reminded her of the bay stallion who’d been here standing statue still with only his mane blowing in the wind. Through it, he met her eyes.
    Jake and his stupid mustang eyes. He could just forget it if he thought she’d forgive him. What he’d said had hurt. Worse than that, he’d meant it.
    He reached out and grabbed the nape of her neck.
    For a second she thought he was going to push her into the lake. Instead, he gave her neck a squeeze. It pulled her hair a little and his hand was cold.
    But Jake said, “Sorry.”
    That probably meant he didn’t intend to drown her, but she just answered with a shrug. If he thought he was getting off that easy he was dreaming.
    â€œGrandfather wants to tell you a story,” Jake announced.
    â€œI’m telling both of you,” Mac said as he led the way to a rocky overhang that formed a shallow cave facing the lake. “My grandson isn’t sure how to feel about his heritage. Or a lot of things.”
    Mac stared at Sam, as if underlining his words.
    Jake blushed and hunched his shoulders forward.
    â€œI already apologized,” he told Mac, and Sam thought he sounded like a little boy.
    When Mac’s gaze turned to her, Sam gave a half smile. Good thing he didn’t ask us to shake hands or kiss and make up, Sam thought, because she would have had to refuse, and she really liked Mac.
    He gestured them into the shallow cave. The rock was bone white and it had absorbed the little morning heat there was to gather.
    â€œThis is a horse story,” Mac said as he and Jake sat, too. “From the old times before there were horses.”
    With that puzzling beginning, Mac started his story.
    â€œIn the early days when all people lived together, the land lay in darkness. The chiefs of the world—the Hopi and Navajo, Aleut and Shoshone, whites and blacks—decided each tribe should have a place of its own. After much talk and prayer, it came to them thatthe people should set out walking through the darkness toward Dawnland, where the Sun and Moon lived together. If two such different beings could live in harmony, they would