Wild Honey Read Free

Sam’s eyes.
    The palomino’s expression was so intelligent and expectant, Sam had to choke back the urge to talk to her. Wild things didn’t croon sweet words to calm each other, so Sam stayed silent, but it wasn’t easy.
    Although the mare’s eyes took in the saddlebags and rope in a glance, she didn’t bolt. She stood still, favoring that right front hoof, holding it such a slight distance above the ground that Sam wasn’t sure she could even slip a piece of paper under it.
    But Sam knew she wasn’t mistaken. The muscles of the mare’s left front leg were bunched and shaking as if they’d held the extra load for hours. Or days.
    Sam knew she had to inspect the mare’s injury if she expected to help. She let her shoulders droop. She took slow steps, moving closer until she was only a few feet away. Without moving her head, Sam lowered her eyes.
    The mare’s leg was swollen. Just above her hoof,a fly buzzed around a black blend of crust and goo.
    To get a better look at the wound, Sam bent her knees a fraction of an inch, then a full inch, watching the mare for reaction.
    The wild horse did nothing until Ace squealed.
    Sam had to look away from the mare.
    Ace was all right, but he was staring upstream again, and suddenly Sam knew the honey-colored mare hadn’t been abandoned after all.
    Moving through a tunnel of branches laden with gold leaves, parting the pollen, shadows and sunlight, the Phantom came toward her, striding down the river like a king.

Chapter Two
    T he mare’s agitated whinny rang in Sam’s ear.
    From her squatting position, Sam looked up to see the palomino directing all of her attention at the Phantom. The human at her feet was forgotten.
    Sniffing and tossing her head, the mare tried to move forward. She made two steps before her hoof drew up. Struggling for balance, she swayed. Sun glinted off the long gentle slant of her shoulder and Sam scooted back.
    The mare didn’t fall, but only luck saved her. Sam reminded herself to stay alert. The horse could fall on her. She could be slammed to the earth or struck as the mare struggled to rise. And she’d be no help to the Phantom’s lead mare if she was injured, too.
    The attempt to go meet the Phantom had hurt the palomino. Sam saw furrows above the mare’s dark-brown eyes. Pain and confusion warred in the horse’s mind. Should she listen to her pain or answer her yearning to be with the herd?
    The mare’s second neigh soared like a scream. With her lips working and head tossing, she appealed to the Phantom for help, begging him not to leave her behind.
    Poor girl, Sam thought, swallowing hard at the mare’s distress.
    When she looked back toward the Phantom, Sam saw he was listening. He passed through the rest of the herd as they meandered along the creek. Some drank. Others stood in the shade. Though most of the mares acted immune to the lead mare’s neighs, a few stared into the rustling branches overhead and all of the foals moved with jerky, uncertain movements.
    The Phantom approached with arched neck and prancing steps, his silken mane covering his neck like some kind of royal shawl, or a mantle of authority. He looked arrogant, set on taking over this shady creek-side territory, until he recognized Sam.
    He gave a quick snort of inquiry.
    What are you doing here? he seemed to ask, and she saw each of his senses sharpen to inspect the area again. Had she brought other humans? Ropes? Loud trucks and danger? Sensing no peril, he splashed across the creek.
    Flicking his tail in annoyance, the Phantom came toward Sam. He splashed down the creek, then raised and lowered his head, telling her to back off.
    In this crouch, Sam supposed she looked submissive and small as a foal and literally like an underling. But she couldn’t obey the stallion’s order to get lost. Any quick movements might send the lead mare shying and falling, damaging that leg even