Free Castaway Colt by Terri Farley Page A

over here,” Cathy persisted.
    â€œI don’t raise dude horses.”
    â€œIt’s something to think about,” Aunty Cathy said. She took a clean apron from a drawer and shook it out. Putting it on, she faced away from them, and Darby thought the conversation was finished.
    But Jonah wasn’t satisfied with the end of their discussion.
    â€œDo you think Kit came all the way from Nevada and signed on to be a dude wrangler?” Jonah asked. “And what about Cade? That boy’s set his heart on being a paniolo.”
    For a full minute, Aunty Cathy didn’t turn around. Her hands appeared behind her back and tied her apron strings with a definite jerk. But thatwas the only sign she showed of irritation until she faced Jonah.
    â€œDid I sign on to do this?” She gestured at the kitchen. “No, I was just a paniolo’s wife who kept your ranch accounts for a little extra money. But I don’t want to move to Honolulu or return to the mainland so I can be a travel agent again. I don’t want that life for Megan or—” Cathy stopped and took a breath.
    â€œJonah, I love this ranch—just like Cade and Kit do. I’m willing to do what it takes to keep it afloat, and I bet they are, too.”
    Me too, Darby thought, but this was no time to chime in. This discussion, or argument, or whatever it was had all kinds of undercurrents she didn’t understand. She wasn’t going to help by getting involved, so she backed out of the kitchen.
    Neither Cathy nor Jonah noticed her leave, and though Darby meant to go to her room and start her homework, she went outside instead.
    Darby turned the corner of Sun House and climbed the white iron staircase that reminded her of a city fire escape because it rose up the outside wall of the house to the apartment above.
    Pip, the Katos’ dandelion puff of a dog, yapped at the approach of company. Megan had already scooped up her dog and opened the door when Darby reached the top step.
    â€œHi,” Darby said. She leaned over to look into Pip’sshaggy face and a rose-petal tongue licked her nose.
    â€œCome in,” Megan said, gesturing with the dog before she set Pip down and closed the screen door.
    Megan must have been doing homework. A yellow pencil had been poked through her thick cherry Coke–colored hair, and a clutter of textbooks and notebooks shared the white wicker couch with Pip and a pile of tropical print pillows.
    â€œAre they fighting?” Megan asked, pointing to the floor of the apartment.
    â€œNot exactly,” Darby said. “Or if they are, it’s not the kind of fighting I recognize.”
    Darby tried to explain what she’d heard of Babe’s suggestion. Megan brushed her words aside.
    â€œDon’t even try to figure it out,” Megan said as she poured them both some sun tea. “It’s not worth it.”
    Every time Darby came into the upstairs apartment, she loved it. Perched atop Sun House, it felt like a tree house.
    Vintage ukuleles hung on one wall and their polished wood made them look like art. Hula dolls positioned on a shelf between flowerpots danced in a breeze that played music from wind chimes.
    Darby didn’t look at the desk in the corner. It held some things of her mother’s. She wanted to look through them for clues to the battle with Jonah that had kept her mother from returning to her Hawaiian home.
    Wouldn’t that be an invasion of her mother’s privacy? Not if she asked permission, but Darby didn’t have the nerve to do that.
    Until you do, she lectured herself, you’ll just have to live with the curiosity .
    â€œHold these,” Megan said, and once Darby held both glasses of iced tea, Megan shoved her school-work to the floor, clearing room for them both to sit on the couch.
    â€œI’ve been thinking about our plan to catch the colt,” Megan said when they were settled. “I’ve come up with an idea,