Part 26 (1/2)
His dad laughed, and he shook his head in the dim dashboard light. ”You really are stupid. We can't come from the same gene pool. How the h.e.l.l do Mexicans cross the border? It can work both ways.”
Mexicans? Border? Were they going to Mexico? His mom would never have let his dad take him that far away. Or would she? Now that she and Zack were together, maybe she didn't want him around anymore. Did Zack not want him around and talked his mom into his dad taking him?
The memory of the day at the CW with Zack and Mandy came to mind.
His heart raced when Zack helped him up into the saddle for the first time and gave him the reins. ”Hold on to these. Not too tight, and don't yank on them. The bit will hurt the mouth of the horse and will confuse him. He'll follow me as we walk around the corral. We'll start out slow to get you used to the feel of the horse moving under you. Okay?”
Bobby nodded, and they were off. He was riding a horse! After a few times around the fence, Zack showed him how to use the slight movements of the reins to steer the old dappled gray gelding, Gra.s.shopper.
”Don't kick him either. That will make him run,” Mandy warned from her perch on top of the white rail fence.
”I want him to go faster.” Bobby laughed from the saddle.
He expected Zack to tell him no, but instead, he said, ”Okay. Touch his sides with your heels. Not hard, just a soft touch. He'll respond.”
Bobby touched the horse's sides, and Gra.s.shopper went from an easy walk to a jog. Zack kept up with the horse, but Bobby didn't need his help. With a whoop, Bobby hung on to both the reins and the saddle horn. He leaned forward and kept his head down like he'd seen the cowboys on Oak Springs Ranch do.
The warm breeze felt good on his face, and he'd never been freer than he was that morning while in the saddle.
”I want to run!”
Jogging beside Gra.s.shopper, Zack caught hold of the horse's rein, looped at his neck, and the horse stopped. ”You have to learn a lot more and be more secure in the saddle before that can happen. Besides, Gra.s.shopper is too old for doing much more than a fast trot.”
”Okay. I don't want to hurt him.”
”But we could take him for a short ride in the pasture. He'd like that.”
Bobby nodded and smiled. Zack saddled his big Palomino, Wild Aces, and helped Mandy with her sorrel mare, Holly. They mounted up, then headed out into the pasture behind the big barn.
Zack told him all sorts of things about horses and answered his questions about rodeo, including how he'd gotten Wild Aces.
”I got him my last year of rodeoing. While I was away with the Marines, he stayed at my in-laws' ranch in Wyoming.”
”He's really old,” Mandy chimed in.
”Not really. Not as old as Gra.s.shopper. He'll be thirty-two on his next birthday.”
”Wow!” Bobby looked down at the gray mane. He held the reins, which lay on the edge of his saddle on either side of the saddle horn.
”I remember old Jock Blackwell had a horse that was about thirty-five before it died. It was an old rodeo horse.”
”My great-uncle Jock rode in the rodeo before he took over the oil business with my great-granddad Jason Ferguson.”
Zack smiled over at him. ”Yep, and your great-grandfather Ferguson was a champion cutting horse rider, and your real great-grandma trained his horses. That's how they met.”
”Really? I didn't know that. I always thought he was just an oilman.”
”Before he took over the Ferguson's share of the oil business with your uncle Jock, he was a cowboy. My dad says he never knew a better horseman than Jason Ferguson. Your mom is a good rider, too. It's in your blood.” He nodded toward Gra.s.shopper. ”You're good on him. You aren't afraid at all.”
”No.” Bobby looked out over the waving gra.s.s and the big, red, wrinkly cows grazing in the pasture. ”But Dad said horses are dangerous. That's why he hates them and never wanted me to learn to ride.”
Zack took a breath so deep that Bobby heard when he let it out, over the distance separating their horses. ”Your dad just never understood horses. They sense fear and distrust and he had both. I thought his feelings for them got better, but it never happened. Then” Zack paused and Bobby looked over at him.
”What?”
Zack met his gaze. ”He got hurt and blamed me for it. I should've known he still disliked horses. But he insisted on riding one of the more spirited horses instead of his usual mount, Gra.s.shopper.”
Bobby looked down at the horse's neck again. Gra.s.shopper was gentle and had let Bobby pet him for a long time before Zack had shown Bobby how to saddle him. The horse had stood still and never even moved his tail when Zack helped Bobby mount onto his back. How could anyone not like the old dapple gray?
They'd ridden for a long time through the pasture. He'd been to ranches all his life, but he'd never been able to go back into the depths of the open land. Cattle and horses ate the gra.s.s, but there were also rabbits, squirrels, prairie dogs, and a small herd of deer eating not far from a bunch of trees.
But, it was the sense of belonging that struck Bobby. Zack told him about the land. About the history of the Cartwrights, which included Bobby's own familiesthe Blackwells and the Fergusons. Zack made him feel at home when they got back to the house. He'd made them ham sandwiches and baked beans, and let Bobby and Mandy help make the potato salad they'd eaten for supper. Afterward, they played Monopoly out on the deck until Mom came over after she closed her shop and she joined the game. He'd never had so much fun.
But never once did Zack make him feel unwelcome.
So why would Zack and his mom suddenly decide they didn't want him?
”f.u.c.k. There's a cop behind us.” Dad's sharp words startled him.
Brent turned and looked out the back of the truck, and Bobby quickly closed his eyes. Maybe it would be better if he pretended to be a sleep.
”Do you think they're checking the license plate?”
”Probably. Austin is up ahead. I'll get off the beltway and go through the city, then get back on I-35. Hopefully, that'll throw 'em off the trail.”
”Maybe we should get off the interstate and take the back roads.”
Bobby opened his eyes enough to see his dad glance at Brent and reach over to whack him on the side of the head with the back of his fingers.
”Ouch.” Brent rubbed the place Dad had hit him.
Dad snorted. ”I think you do have a brain rattling around up there after all, because that's actually a d.a.m.ned good idea.”
”Then why the f.u.c.k did you hit me?”
”Because I don't want you to forget who's in charge here.”
They were quiet for a while. Bobby stared out the window at Austin's city lights speeding by as the truck turned off the interstate and onto a main street, then headed down side streets, weaving through the city. He'd only been to the Texas state capitol once, last year for a school field trip.
He closed his eyes to go back to sleep as the radio filled the quiet darkness with a constant stream of old country music. A lady was singing about standing by her man when a buzzing broke into the song.
After a few beeps, an announcer guy said, ”This is an Amber Alert for missing eleven-year-old boy, Robert Allan Parker, who goes by Bobby. Last seen at a friend's home late Friday night in Colton, Texas. Suspected abductors are the boy's father, thirty-three-year-old Jacob Parker and twenty-eight-year-old Brent Parker, both of Colton. Driving a late model tan Chevrolet Silverado...” The announcer went on with giving the license plate number and what Bobby, his dad, and Brent looked like. ”The abductors are to be considered armed and dangerous.” Bobby sat up, forgetting he was pretending to be asleep, and stared at the colored lights of the dash. Dad and Uncle Brent were dangerous? ”They are the main suspects in a rash of cattle and horse thefts” The announcement suddenly died as his dad turned off the radio, and Bobby stared at his father.
”f.u.c.k! That's what that cop was checking out. Cartwright figured out the license plate switch.” Dad slapped the steering wheel. ”d.a.m.n you, Brent. He got the info from when he stopped you for speeding.”
”But how did he find the number for the truck in your garage? That's the number the alert gave.”