Free Gypsy Gold by Terri Farley

the Gold Dust Ranch—
    â€œSam, stop,” Jen said. “You’re about to chew a hole through your lip.”
    â€œI am not,” Sam said, but she touched a knuckle to her bottom lip. It was already sore because she’d been biting it as she concentrated. “Still, if there’s any justice—”
    â€œThere’s always that big if ,” Jen said.
    â€œWe’ve got to hurry and tell Sheriff Ballard what Linc did before he reports us—”
    â€œI don’t think you have any reason to worry,” Nicolas broke in. “Or hurry.”
    Sam had almost forgotten he was there, but she turned to listen.
    After all, Nicolas was a college student, and as an outsider, he might be in a better position to observe.
    â€œDid we miss something?” Sam asked.
    â€œThere’s a saying attributed to Napoleon,” Nicolas began.
    â€œWho conquered most of the civilized world of his time,” Jen said to Sam.
    With a wave of her hand, Sam brushed away Jen’s explanation. She had heard of Napoleon.
    Sam twisted in the saddle to face Nicolas and said, “Tell me.”
    â€œIt’s something like, ‘Never interrupt your enemy while he’s making a mistake.’” Nicolas paused to let the words sink in and both girls smiled.
    â€œI love that,” Jen said.
    â€œMe too, and Linc’s always making mistakes,” Sam said.
    â€œLet him make this one,” Nicolas suggested.“Don’t race to report him. That way he’ll be making himself look bad, by admitting to the sheriff that he shot the coyote. Then you two can step up as concerned citizens who just happened to have witnessed his crime.”
    â€œWhat are you studying in college?” Jen asked Nicolas.
    â€œPre-law,” Nicolas confessed. He shrugged as if he didn’t want them to think he was showing off. “My grandfather claims he’s never met a gypsy lawyer, though I’m sure he’s wrong.”
    â€œPerfect,” Jen said, with a contented sigh. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Chapter Nine
    L ace kept calling for the dun colt.
    Every few minutes, Sam heard the vardo’s wheels crunch to a stop. Then, after a moment spent sniffing the air and listening, the mare would cast her neigh out in another direction.
    The colt must have heard the plaintive sound, but maybe he was too frightened to return, or perhaps he’d lost his way.
    As Sam, Jen, and Nicolas drew closer to River Bend Ranch, wind scuttled leaves ahead of them. Yesterday’s summery mood faded.
    Tomorrow was a school holiday. Nevada Day,they called it, in honor of the day Nevada had been admitted to the United States. No matter how often their parents and teachers told them otherwise, lots of Nevada children thought their day off, which usually coincided with Halloween, had been declared so that they could recover from a late night of candy and excitement.
    Sam was glad tomorrow was a holiday. She’d have time to begin her campaign to see that Slocum got what he deserved.
    But after Nevada Day came Thanksgiving, then Christmas, and though the excitement of holidays and a new baby lay ahead, she also felt melancholy. There’d be fewer days to ride and, most likely, she’d see the Phantom far less once he and his herd holed up in their hidden valley for the winter.
    Wait a minute, Sam thought. In her mental list of holidays, she’d missed something. Nevada Day and Halloween, Thanksgiving, then wasn’t there another holiday? Schools didn’t get a break on Columbus Day, so that meant…
    â€œI missed Jake’s birthday!” Sam gasped suddenly.
    â€œBy like a month,” Jen said.
    â€œWho’s Jake?” Nicolas asked, but Sam barely heard him.
    Jen’s words reminded Sam of her own birthday party. When Jake had said the big box full of film for her camera wasn’t what he wanted to give her, but it had been the only thing