Free The Island Horse by Susan Hughes Page B

horse away, grinning over her shoulder. “Shannon and I will come up with some good ways to distract them. Don’t worry, Ellie. I think we’ll be good at this!”
    â€œThank you, Sarah! Thank you,” cried Ellie.
    And Sarah was on her way, with a wave of her hand, a twirl of her wrist. Shannon was cantering, digging up the sand with her hooves that were ringed in flowered bracelets.
    Ellie took a deep breath, feeling fear and excitement, and also, now, a tiny stirring of hope.
    Things seemed better. Sarah had come to help, even though Ellie had not been very friendly to her so far, and Ellie wondered if maybe Sarah understood something about what it was like to be adrift. Maybe, like the wild horse, Sarah could see to the heart of things, see into Ellie’s heart.
    Chapter Seventeen
    Ellie sat down again on the dunes and waited for the horse. She waited and waited. She tried to be patient. She tried to be calm. It was all she could do.
    She looked up. A tern darted across the sky, wings bent. Another followed. The sleek birds were white, their heads capped with black. Wings folded, one plunged into the ocean. Ellie saw the bird rise and dart away, a fish in its bill.
    She breathed slowly, trying to remain patient.
    â€œWhere are you?” she whispered into the wind. “Why don’t you come?” As soon as Orchid came, they would need to leave. The trek to the sand hills would take some time. It would be best to be there, hidden, before the roundup started. If they were found on their way …
    â€œWhere are you?” she whispered again.
    Ellie closed her eyes. She counted to one hundred.
    She opened her eyes. Still no horse.
    She closed her eyes again. She counted to two hundred.
    â€œPlease be here. Please be here.”
    She opened her eyes.
    And there he was.
    The island horse was moving over the crest of the dune. She saw that he was looking for her. His head lifted up high, and he found her.
    His herd was not with him, but Orchid was here! Tears of relief came to Ellie’s eyes. Like a sunshower, she was smiling and weeping.
    But the roundup riders could come whooping over the hill at any moment.
    She had to take him, move him. She knew that she couldn’t put a rope on him, couldn’t ride or guide him with a halter. He was a wild horse. He would always be wild. But there had to be a way.
    Ellie turned and looked toward the east. She would try to lead him along the coast, and then cut overland past Lake Wallace to the south beach, then eastward again to the sand hills. She looked back at Orchid and realized he was watching her.
    Ellie took a few steps toward the east. Then she took a few more steps, slowly. As if the wind would always blow, and the waves would always wash against the sand, and all the time was now.
    Would the horse follow? Would he come, because it was her, because he would want to be near her?
    Orchid bent his head and grazed. He bobbed his head, seeing her go. He snatched more grass, and chewed.
    Pausing, Ellie held her breath.
    The horse looked up at her again. He took a few steps, and then a few more, toward her.
    Ellie’s heart raced.
    She waited a moment, and then she walked a few more steps along the dunes. Then she took a few more steps.
    The horse bobbed his head again. Again, he snatched a mouthful of grass. Again, he followed.
    â€œThere are wild horses on this island,” her father had told her, and it was true. It made her heart sing.
    Ellie walked east, along the crest of the dunes, toward safety. Orchid followed closely.
    They walked on, she ahead, he behind.
    And after a time, she realized that they were not alone. She turned her head slowly. The herd was there! The island horse’s little family. Two mares, the yearling, the two foals.
    She saw them coming from the west, following along the crest of the dune. They were following their stallion, their leader.
    They did not come close. Sometimes they were out of sight, in a