Mustang Moon Read Free

there, somewhere, lay the secret valley where the Phantom hid his herd.
    She and Gram headed the other way.
    The two-lane asphalt road ran straight at the horizon, toward Alkali. Too small to be called a town, Alkali had a coffee shop and a gas station. On Tuesdays, the county bookmobile—a library on wheels—stopped there. Sam had convinced Dad to let Jake borrow the truck and drive her there, twice.
    Today, Gram drove right on through Alkali.
    â€œI thought about stopping for a soda,” Gram said, nodding at the diner, “but we’ll get lunch at the mall.”
    â€œGreat,” Sam said, then turned on the car radio. One thing you could say for Gram’s old Buick: Its antenna picked up every radio station for hundreds of miles around.
    Sam found herself humming along with the oldies station Gram favored. Even if funds were short, and they were, Sam liked shopping. She’d been in sixth grade last time she’d gone to the mall in Darton. From what she’d heard, it had grown.
    â€œSamantha?”
    Sam turned. When Gram kept her eyes on the road, Sam knew it was a bad sign.
    â€œI won’t lock you in your room at night, but I’m serious about staying away from that stallion. If I catch you sneaking out, you’ll be grounded.” Gram looked at her then. “I mean that literally. There’ll be no riding until you’ve learned your lesson.”
    What could she do? Sam looked down and saw her hands shaking in her lap. She put them out of sight, tucking her fingers between her thighs and the car upholstery.
    Gram was making her choose between Ace and the Phantom. It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t stand even the idea of giving up her long daily rides on Ace, but it would break her heart if she never saw the Phantom again.

Chapter Two
    C RANE C ROSSING WAS a fine mall. It wasn’t San Francisco, but Sam had never adored sidestreet specialty shops the way Aunt Sue did. Crane Crossing was more her style. It had a big department store where Sam got a backpack, jeans, socks, Darton High’s green-and-gold gym clothes, and a skirt Gram insisted on buying. The mall’s three casual-wear stores were hard to tell apart, but Sam bought two shirts in one and a blouse to match the skirt in another.
    The worst part had been looking at her goofy hair in the bright fluorescent lighting that spotlighted the dressing room mirrors. Sam decided she could plead temporary insanity for cutting it to look older right before she returned to the ranch, but it was growing out weird. She needed professional help, but she couldn’t ask Gram to pay for a haircut when it was a stretch to afford clothes.
    The best feature of the mall was a Western wear and tack store called Tully’s. There, Sam saw a split-ear headstall that was a work of art. With delicate care, Sam touched a flurry of feathers hand-tooled on smooth, mushroom-colored leather. How beautiful it would look on Jake’s black mare, Witch.
    If a good fairy flew down and sprinkled her with silver dollars, she’d buy it. Jake’s birthday was October first.
    Gram came up behind her.
    â€œGracious, that’s more than we spend on groceries in a month,” Gram tsked.
    Sam almost snapped that not everything was about money. She was glad she hadn’t when Gram added, “Wouldn’t Ace step proud wearing that on his pretty head?”
    Sam could not guess what Gram would do or say next. Frustration made Sam decide that adults—Dad and Gram included—were more unpredictable than horses.
    At a table in the mall’s food court, Gram chowed down a huge plate of Chinese food but didn’t show a flicker of excitement when Sam pointed out Crane Crossing’s multiplex theater and suggested they go to a movie.
    â€œMaybe next time,” Gram had said as they loaded their purchases into the Buick’s backseat, but Sam didn’t have high hopes.
    The television in the ranch house