The Challenger by Terri Farley Page A

litter—want a kitten?”
    â€œDad doesn’t like cats,” Sam said.
    â€œWhat about Brynna?” Jake asked cautiously.
    Sam felt a glow of appreciation for Jake. Because he valued his own privacy, he was careful with hers. “You know they’re getting married, right?”
    â€œClara and her waitresses aren’t much for keeping secrets,” Jake said.
    Sam thought that over for a second. If the waitresses at Clara’s diner were serving this gossip along with coffee and cake, everyone in the area must already know about Dad and Brynna.
    It surprised Sam that she didn’t really care.
    â€œI don’t know if Brynna likes cats, but I know everything’s going to be different.” Sam considered one of the white-trunked aspens alongside the trail. Those weren’t gouges, just dark marks on the pale bark.
    â€œMaybe some of it will be good different,” Jake said.
    â€œMaybe,” Sam said. “But what if I want to do my homework in front of the TV, and she tells me to go up to my room? Or if I go into the tack room to talk to Dad and she interrupts? And even if she doesn’t, I’ll be talking to him, just knowing that she could show up any time she feels like it.”
    â€œYeah,” Jake said. “You know, my dad’s talking about having my grandfather move in with us.”
    â€œBut he’s cool,” Sam said.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œI met him at a rodeo once, and that’s what I’ve heard.” Sam didn’t remind Jake that most of what she’d heard had been from his own mouth. “Please tell me what he said about your dream.”
    Jake laid his hand on Witch’s neck as if she’d trembled.
    â€œNot that much.”
    â€œI won’t stop asking,” Sam warned, “so you might as well tell me now.”
    â€œThere’s not much to tell. He said cougar dreams are about coming into your own power,” Jake spoke in a half-mocking tone, but Sam noticed the way he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. That’s how he’d seemed different this morning. He’d looked more powerful. More like a grown-up. “About leadership and self-confidence. It doesn’t take a—” He shook his head, and Sam noticed his long hair was tucked up under the Stetson. “Look, that’s stuff you could tell any guy my age and be pretty close to right.”
    Jake paused, and Sam knew there was more to his grandfather’s dream translation.
    â€œWhat else?” Sam asked.
    When Jake refused to answer, Sam leaned forward. She was ready to harass him more when Witch jumped sideways with a sharp grunt.
    Wait. Stalk. Act.
    Sam turned quickly in the saddle, searching right, left, sure she’d see a feline shape bounding toward them. She stayed low on Ace’s neck and firmed her legs around him. Just ahead, Jake allowed his body to follow Witch’s movements.
    Sam saw no cat.
    â€œIt’s okay, boy,” Sam murmured, though Ace knew best whether he had a reason to be afraid.
    â€œShoulda seen that comin’,” Jake snapped as Witch returned to a jittery walk.
    Sam could tell he was scolding himself, not his horse.
    â€œSeen what? Was it that?” Sam pointed at a branch no bigger than her arm. It lay beside the trail, gold leaves fluttering.
    â€œYeah. But they’re expecting the worst. There must be cat smell all over.”
    Ace lifted his hooves like a parade horse as he passed the branch. Eyes rolling to show some white, he remained watchful, just in case.
    Â 
    Ten minutes later, both horses stopped, nostrils testing the air as the trail dipped toward Aspen Creek. Even Sam could smell the difference.
    Snow had fallen recently, but the valley still looked like fall and the breeze smelled like apple cider. It flowed through the gold haze of pollen hanging in the air. It fluttered the yellow leaves, makingthem applaud other leaves floating like