Red Feather Filly by Terri Farley Page B

felt responsible.
    â€œI am trying,” Jake repeated. He drew himself up to his full height, crossed his arms, and looked down at her.
    Sam stared right back. Jake couldn’t intimidate her into being his partner.
    â€œYou’re going to have to come up with something better than that,” Sam told him.
    Jake took a deep breath and looked at her again. This time he raised one eyebrow and smiled. “Be my partner and I promise we’ll win.”

Chapter Nine
    W hen Sam arrived home and announced that she and Jake would be riding as partners in Mrs. Allen’s Super Bowl of Horsemanship, she thought the hard part was behind her.
    She was wrong.
    Dad didn’t stop what he was doing. He kept using a heavy rasp to smooth something on Tank’s hoof.
    Ross stood at the big Quarter horse’s head, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else, but Sam couldn’t figure out why.
    â€œDad, did you hear me?” Sam asked. “Jake and I are going to be partners in the race.”
    Dad lowered Tank’s hoof, gave the horse a shoulder pat, then slowly straightened. He pressed both hands tothe small of his back and made a small noise of pain. Then, instead of answering, he glanced at Ross.
    â€œYou and Pepper want to finish this up?”
    Sam stiffened. Dad was turning his chore over to the cowboys. If that was because he wanted to give her his full attention, she wasn’t sure she wanted it.
    â€œSure,” Ross said. He looked pleased to be left out of their discussion.
    Dad dusted his hands off on his jeans and motioned for Sam to walk beside him back to the house. She did, but with each step, she tried to interpret Dad’s silence.
    â€œI thought you’d be excited,” she said after about ten steps.
    â€œThat’s one way of puttin’ it.”
    Sam looked sideways at him. Dad didn’t seem mad, exactly, but he sure wasn’t overjoyed.
    â€œWe’ll be careful,” she offered.
    â€œYeah,” Dad said, but that didn’t count as permission.
    As soon as they walked into the house, Dad called a family meeting.
    Sam crossed her arms and pressed her lips together, waiting as everyone stopped what they were doing to assemble at the kitchen table.
    â€œIt’s not that big a deal,” she said softly, but no one paid attention.
    Gram folded up the order blank she’d been filling out for a seed catalog.
    Dad called up the stairs to Brynna.
    â€œI was ready for a break,” Brynna said. “My end-of-winter range condition report has got to get finished, but I was dying for a glass of water.”
    She got her water and sat at the kitchen table, rubbing her eyes.
    â€œTell them what you told me,” Dad instructed Sam.
    Sam took a deep breath. “Jake and I are going to be partners in Mrs. Allen’s race.”
    Gram and Brynna looked as baffled as she felt, but Dad’s hands were folded together on the table in one big fist.
    Sam filled the silence as best she could.
    â€œI’m thirteen years old. I’ve been raised to be a cowgirl, right?” she asked.
    Dad gave a grudging nod.
    â€œAnd the entire point of Mrs. Allen having coed teams is that things will be safe,” Sam added.
    Her English teacher had told the class that three good points was enough to persuade a normal person to believe what you were saying, but Sam decided Dad just might not be normal.
    So she added one more.
    â€œI’ll be riding Ace. I know him and I know the terrain. He’s a good horse and I can depend on him.”
    Brynna and Gram both looked at Dad.
    They’re on my side, Sam thought. So why don’t they jump in and say something? And then, Gram did.
    â€œSamantha, did it ever occur to you to ask permission, rather than coming home and declaring what you were going to do?”
    â€œUmm…no.”
    â€œAnd I wonder if you’ve decided how you’ll pay the entry fee?” Brynna