Free Firefly by Terri Farley

their white-knuckled grip on his crutches. Even if it was rude, it might have been the right thing to say.
    â€œYeah?” Gabe stared toward the pasture and then the corral. “Looks to me like they can take care of themselves.”
    â€œSam’s going to be here all week,” Mrs. Allen said. “He was a fine young horse—” Mrs. Allen broke off. Her hands fluttered in uncharacteristic ditheringmovements. “He was badly injured and it…she’s…”
    Mrs. Allen was holding back tears. Gabe’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
    Where’s Jen when I need her? Sam wondered. Her best friend understood human psychology almost as well as she did that of horses. Maybe she’d comprehend this guy’s meanness.
    â€œHe’s a mustang colt that was badly burned in that fire I told you about,” Sam explained. She could hear the return of her own confidence. If there was one thing she could talk about, it was horses. “You know your grandmother takes in ‘unadoptable’ mustangs, and this one’s not only been burned, he was traumatized, and is almost kind of crazy.”
    â€œOh yeah, right,” Gabe said.
    Sam’s eyes had wandered to the road, looking for Dr. Scott and Pirate, but Gabe’s sarcasm drew her attention back.
    â€œYou don’t believe me?” Sam asked, amazed. “Why else would I be here?”
    â€œTo keep me company because you’ve done hospital time, too?” Gabe’s sun-bleached eyebrows quirked up. He looked smug, as if she couldn’t possibly deny his theory. “I don’t suppose that could have anything to do with it?”
    â€œI don’t know how to break it to you, but—” Sam stopped. She’d been about to tell him he wasn’t the center of her universe.
    That would have crossed the line between sarcasmand outright rudeness. Sam knew it, and Mrs. Allen’s loud intake of breath underlined it.
    The kid was being a jerk, but he had a good reason. Sam remembered when Rachel Slocum had spread a rumor about her all over school. Samantha Forster had suffered permanent brain damage from her riding accident, Rachel had told anyone who’d listen.
    Despite the heat, the memory turned Sam’s hands cold and she shivered with goose bumps. The stares—half of which she’d probably imagined—had tormented her. Hot blushes had lasted for days, like sunburn. She’d reacted—well, like she wasn’t exactly sane.
    At least that rumor had been false.
    How must Gabe feel, knowing people were staring at him and seeing limp legs that had once been strong enough to kick a ball the entire length of a soccer field?
    â€œThat could have something to do with why I’m here, but it doesn’t,” Sam told him. “I’m here for the colt, because your grandma was willing to take him in and Dr. Scott—”
    â€œThe vet,” Mrs. Allen put in.
    â€œâ€”talked me into working with the colt so he’d have a better chance of being adopted.”
    In the lull between sentences, Sam heard a faint nicker. Most of the wild horses had stopped grazing to stare toward the road, but she saw nothing.
    â€œYou could help her with the horse, though,” Mrs. Allen said. Sam heard the apology in her words. Mrs. Allen had wanted to teach Gabe to ride this summer, but this might be the best she could offer.
    â€œYou could,” Sam said slowly. An addition to Pirate’s human herd might be a good idea.
    â€œOh yeah,” Gabe snapped. “I’m totally set up to help you tame a wild horse.” He shifted his weight to his left crutch and gestured with the right one. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to tease the handicapped?”
    Gabe was really feeling sorry for himself. Sam recognized the same bitterness she’d seen in Jake when he broke his leg. She understood, but she didn’t have to like it.
    She’d