ALL THE NEXT DAY, CHICO OBSERVED HIS wide, new world. He’d never seen this much space all at once. What lay over the horizons? His senses told him more meadows, more horizons, on and on almost forever. It all felt perfectly right.
Except for the Beasts. No stretch of grass was free of them. Once, a large one and a very small, wobbly one came out of the pines. All the other Beasts trotted toward those two, and the large one shook the two sticks on its head at them. The sticks looked menacing. Deep in his bones, Chico knew they were dangerous. The bellows of the Beasts reached the horse corral, where the queen, Chico noticed, paid absolutely no attention. She didn’t even flick an ear toward the commotion.
Well. That was information.
In the afternoon, Sierra’s father started up a small motor vehicle. The engine sound felt homelike to Chico. He knew the sounds of all the lawnmowers, cars, and trucks on his old street, especially Dean’s.
The four-wheeler started across the meadow. The dog sat beside Dad on the passenger seat, with a smug set to its ears.
Across the meadow, all the Beasts turned and streamed toward the vehicle. The four-wheeler stopped. Dad got out and took something out of the back, which he spread on the ground. The Beasts stood watching with lowered heads, while the dog stalked up and down in front of them. Only when man and dog were back on the vehicle did they surge forward to eat.
Kind of wimpy, then? Chico watched the Beasts eat and disperse; watched them every one of his waking moments, in fact, and even opened his eyes from sleep to watch them again.
In the morning, Sierra and her mother came down to the corral. They caught the horses and tied them near each other, and Sierra brushed Chico. He listened with his whole body. Sierra’s hands were soft and fluttery. Chico stood rock still, as Dean had taught him, and as he’d learned in his family herd. That always calmed the others, and it calmed Sierra, too. After a bit, her hands became stronger and smoother, and her breath relaxed. “Good boy,” she murmured.
Chico knew that. He’d always been a good boy, until Dean started riding him in circles. Even then, he’d tried.
After brushing came a saddle, different from Dean’s. It felt strange on Chico’s back, and he turned to sniff the stirrup fender, while Sierra and her mother looked at the saddle and asked each other if it fit him.
Then Sierra tightened the girth, tactfully, like Dean did, a bit at a time. She put Chico’s own bridle on him from back home. At the well-known feel and smell of it, he let out a sigh, and Sierra glanced at him quickly. “You like that?” She seemed like a perceptive girl.
“Do you want me to ride him first?” her mother asked. “He might be a little different here.”
“I’ll do it.” Sierra’s voice sounded tight.
She mounted, and though it was a stretch, and she had to haul herself up, she barely made the saddle shift. Chico tossed his head. She was so young and light. He’d have to be careful of her.
He waited for some signal as to what she wanted, but she just sat there. “Squeeze again,” her mother said.
Chico felt a slight pressure against his sides. Evidently, she wanted him to move, but her legs were shorter than Dean’s, and her signals hard to detect. He stepped forward, one ear tilted to listen to Sierra. Hopefully she wouldn’t ask for any stupid circles.
Once, twice around the corral. He felt her start to relax, and he relaxed, too. Jog? Sure thing. He had a loose, easy jog, and Sierra’s body moved fluidly along with it.
Now she wanted a turn. She put the rein against his neck, and Chico made a decision. Lately, when Dean had put the rein on him, he wanted a fast turn, a sharp turn, something very precise. But when he’d first started riding Chico, any old turn had been good enough. If Chico changed directions at all, Dean was happy.
Those were better days, before all the circles. Now Chico was starting fresh with a new rider; it was a good time to set some ground rules.
He turned, rather lazily. Dean would have let out an exclamation of disgust; would have made him do it again. But Sierra said, “Wow! He’s so much quicker than Queenie!” She rode Chico in some squiggles and circles at the jog. Then she asked for a lope. Chico took up a gentle, rocking-horse gait. Dean would have criticized it. Sierra said again, “Wow!”
“I’m glad to hear you say that!” Mom said. “And you know, he’ll get over his fear of cows. Give the poor town boy a little time!”
“Mmm.” For some reason Sierra stiffened up again, but not as badly.
Mom mounted the queen, and they rode out into the yard. It was bigger than Dean’s whole street! Addie waved from the porch. The dog sat beside her, watching critically. Chico could tell that it didn’t like him. Too bad! Try straying into that horse corral, mutt! He put a show-offy
twinkle into his heels, and Sierra gently checked him. “Walk.”
Side by side, the two horses went down the ranch road. Log fences gave way to wire. Beasts dotted the grassland—which smelled even more tempting today, Chico noticed. The spring sun was bringing new growth, and the Beasts, heads down, were all wolfing it down. Not fair! He jigged in protest and tossed his head, getting half a length ahead of the queen, who nipped him on the shoulder.
The brown ribbon of road stretched to the far horizon, and when they got there, to another one. They were the only creatures moving on it. Chico’s nerves started to twang. From the safety of the corral, the openness felt perfect. Being out here made him feel exposed, unsheltered.
At last, they turned back toward the ranch buildings, as small as square hay bales in the distance. Good. Chico was ready to be done with straight lines.
But four Beasts had crowded close to the fence behind them, cutting them off from home. The sticks on their heads gleamed in the sun, wickedly pointed. There were fences on both sides. There was no way around …
Behind his swiveling ears, Sierra said, “Uh, Mom?”
“Don’t look at them, Sierra!” It was the calm voice Sierra’s mother used when she gave Chico a shot, telling
him he wouldn’t feel a thing. “If you look, he’ll look. Just watch my back. We’ll show him it’s okay.”
Chico knew “it’s okay.” People used those words when something alarming was happening, and they wanted to pretend that it wasn’t. The queen walked steadily on, ever closer to the Beasts. Chico’s heart raced, and his feet slowed. He felt Sierra reach for the saddle horn, which only deepened his fear. He must be good. He must be brave. But what if he couldn’t? What if he simply had to run? He sent a whinny after the queen. You sure about this?
She ignored him. No, not ignore, exactly. Her tail flirted sassily. Her hips swayed. She arched her neck and pricked her ears. Look at me! her body said. Just look! The Beasts huddled at her approach. Their breath whooshed. A tail lifted—splat-splat-splat-splat. Then they turned, blundering into each other, and trotted away from the road.
Startled, Chico stopped in his tracks. Wow! She just totally backed them off!
Now the queen was getting ahead of him. If the Beasts were afraid of her, Chico’s place was by her side. She could protect him. He jogged to catch up, and she slashed her tail at him. Stay back! Who’s queen?
You. You rule!
“See?” Mom said to Chico. “That didn’t kill you.” That was her after-sting voice. Chico wished she’d give him a
carrot like she did after the needle. He could really use a carrot right now.
The next day they took the same ride. The Beasts kept their distance.
Then the following morning, Sierra and Addie, carrying backpacks, walked down the road and got onto a school bus. In the afternoon, the bus came back, winding across the distant hills. The dog ran down the ranch road in a self-important way, and after a while, reappeared with the girls. Addie’s chatter reached Chico long before they came into sight.
“Hey, wouldn’t it be great if we could train the horses to come meet us? Then we wouldn’t have to walk.”
Sierra didn’t answer. A glum, worried feeling radiated from her. Chico remembered how thrilled she’d seemed when they first met. Would she ever be like that again?
The girls went into the house, came out wearing jeans and boots, and put saddles on the horses. Down the ranch road; back again. Addie talked and talked. Sierra didn’t say much. The Beasts stayed far away.
The next day, the same ride. The day after, again. And he used to think circles were boring!
On the fourth day, a single Beast was at the fence when they headed out. The earlier rides had been so dull that Chico was almost pleased to see it, fearsome though it
seemed. He felt Sierra grab the saddle horn, but Addie gabbled on, and the queen just jogged straight toward it.
Would this Beast run? It wasn’t moving. What if it didn’t? What if it attacked? All Chico’s muscles went hard. He could feel how his rough trot bounced Sierra, but he couldn’t help it. If he could just hold it together, if he could just scoot past the creature—
The Beast ducked its head and lunged out of the way.
Thank goodness! Why couldn’t it have done that right away? Chico put his ears back at the retreating hulk. If the fence wasn’t there, he’d thunder after it, give it a good scare.
“Hey, Chico, what are you thinking about?” Sierra’s voice had a hint of that light, bright, sparkly sound from the first day. “You want to chase that cow, don’t you? I wonder if Mom could be right!”
Two days later, the bus didn’t come, and the girls saddled up right after breakfast. Mom came over to talk to them.
“I’m glad Chico’s bored with the road,” she said. “That was the whole idea, to get him comfortable with his new surroundings. So I’m fine with you riding in the pasture, as long as you steer clear of cows.”
“Chico’s getting braver,” Sierra said.
Mom said, “I’m trusting you to look after your sister, Sierra. Ride slowly and take it easy around the cattle.”
“We’ll take it easy,” Sierra replied. The girls rode out through the pasture gate. The broad meadow spread before them, inviting Chico’s legs to run.
“You don’t need to take care of me,” Addie said. “I’m a good rider.”
“I know,” Sierra said. “But Mom’s watching.”
Addie looked back. “I don’t see her.”
“Even if you don’t see her, she’s watching! And Dad is even worse!”
Talk talk talk. Chico snatched at the bit. Sierra let him jog, then lifted into a gentle lope. The queen kept pace. They headed toward the line where grass met sky. Gradually, another rolling swathe of grass appeared behind it, rimmed by rocky mountains. Beasts looked up as they passed.
Finally, Sierra swung Chico around to face the way they’d come. He saw only horizon. The ranch buildings were completely cut off from view. Chico couldn’t even smell home; the wind was blowing from the wrong direction.
Sierra took a deep breath. “Addie, I want to try something. I have to find out. Do you promise not to tell Mom?”
Addie didn’t answer, but she did stop chattering.
A small group of Beasts grazed nearby; four of them side by side. Sierra turned Chico toward them and asked him to walk.
His heart thudded. They outnumbered him! What was she thinking?
He felt the rein on his neck, turning him slightly to one side; zig.
Rein on the other side; zag.
Zig, zag, zig, zag; very slowly Sierra was riding him closer, and still closer. There came a moment when all four Beasts stopped grazing and bunched together, staring at him, pointing their paddle-shaped ears. Their breathing sounded deep and emotional.
Chico braced and stared back. Sierra put her hand on his neck reassuringly. Beasts didn’t seem to make her nervous, but what did she know? She wasn’t even an adult. Could he trust her?
Her legs squeezed his sides. Another step forward? No way! What if he couldn’t be good anymore? What if he had to run, duck out from under her, and just bolt for the horizon? She could be hurt, and she was small. Young.
Bossy. Her legs squeezed again, and without meaning to, Chico took a step. Sierra squeezed again. Another. One more and he was going to blow!
The Beasts flapped their ears, tossed their heads.
Then they all turned toward each other, each trying to get into the middle of the group. There was no middle left, and they walked away.
Chico stopped in disbelief. Away? They were walking away? He felt suddenly larger, filled with energy. He snatched for more rein. Make ’em go faster!
Sierra gave a high-pitched yip of delight and turned him away from the retreating Beasts. “Yes! You like that, Chico, don’t you? Good boy!”
“You moved them just the way Dad does,” Addie said. “Only he walks.”
“We didn’t chase them!” Sierra said quickly.
“I know!” Addie said. “Dad hates anything chasing his cows. Chico looks proud.” She hesitated. “So—do you like him now?”
Sierra reached down and hugged Chico’s neck. “I like him a lot! That was the problem. I was worried he wouldn’t be able to do cutting, but—wow!” She sat up straight in the saddle again, laughing. Everything about her felt light and breezy again, like when Chico first met her.
They turned back toward home, both girls chattering. Chico matched his steps to the queen’s, eyeing the groups of Beasts they passed. Now he saw them in a whole new way. They could be chased! Big as they were, they were afraid of him!
Chico knew all about power. The horse that can make another horse move out of the way is the boss. He could do that with his brothers, even though he was the youngest;
never with his mother or sister, certainly not with the queen. But he’d just moved four Beasts at once! Could he move every Beast?
They came over the big rise and a large cluster of Beasts were right in front of them. Let’s get them, he suggested, dancing, bobbing his head, and pricking his ears at the creatures.
Sierra laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, hotshot! We’re in sight of the house.” Instead of moving toward the animals, she swung Chico toward the edge of the woods, letting him lope to vent his feelings, outdistancing Addie and the queen.
A strong Beast-scent emanated from the trees. Chico sensed movement. A second later, the woods erupted in a crash of brush and cracking branches. Chico whirled as a great black Beast emerged from the pines, head lowered, charging straight at the queen.