The Island Horse by Susan Hughes Page A

her and continued on past her. He raced along the sand, tail high, hooves pounding. And now
he
was the leader. He was guiding Ellie, urging
her
onward.
    She ran after him, as hard as she could, buoyant, and behind came his little herd, trotting, anxious to keep up.
    As if they were all connected by an invisible thread, the stallion tore across the sand, exuberant and full of life, with Ellie and his family following.
    And they reached the sand hills. Orchid disappeared behind one hill, and the other horses disappeared after him. Ellie stopped running, stood panting. From where she was, from where any roundup riders might be, the herd could not be seen.
    It was late afternoon. But they were here, and no one had found them. Maybe it would be all right.
    Ellie walked in among the sand hills, found Orchid and sat down gratefully. The horse stayed nearby, eyeing her. Was he wondering if there might be another exhilarating tear across the sand? He tossed his head and pawed his hoof in the sand, restless.
    But after a time, the stallion settled. And he did not leave, although there was little food here, no grass at all. He dug down in the sand, and then drank the water that appeared. One by one, first the foals, then the yearling and then the mares came and drank. And then Ellie, watching and thirsty, went to the hole Orchid had made, and cupped her palm. Drank the fresh water.
    Satisfied, she sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Then she gasped.
    Orchid was there. Right there, next to her.
    She sat still.
    Slowly, the horse stretched out his neck toward Ellie. He looked at her carefully. Then he hesitated.
    Ellie held her breath.
    Orchid’s ears twitched. His muzzle came close. She felt his nose touch her shoulder, her elbow. He pushed at her gently. His nostrils flared.
    Ellie remained still. She dared not move.
    Yet now he was nudging her palm. Once, twice. She felt his velvety nose on her bare skin.
    And so, slowly, slowly, she lifted her hand. She stroked his nose with the tip of her fingers. Once. Twice.
    Ellie looked into Orchid’s deep brown-black eyes, and he gazed back.
    It was a moment only. But it was everything to Ellie.
    Then, with a snort, Orchid stepped away. He tossed his head, and he flicked his tail. He headed back to stand near his herd.
    Now it was early evening. The sun was still in the sky, but it was low. The rays were sliding across the sea toward them. The horses were here. They were together, with her.
    Ellie, strong and determined, knew that no matter what happened, even if the roundup riders came and found them, she would protect the horse. She would not let him be taken. She and her father, and Sarah, would save Orchid and his family, too. Together they would not let the horses be taken from their home.
    Chapter Nineteen
    Ellie awoke in her father’s arms. A crescent moon was shining down on a crescent island.
    â€œEllie, I found you,” he breathed. “You made it here!”
    â€œIt’s over?” she asked, although she knew it had to be, because it was night.
    He nodded. “Yes, sweetpea. The roundup ended long before the sun went down. They corralled sixteen horses in all. But it’s over now.”
    Ellie felt a pang. Sixteen wild horses had been taken. She knew some would be set free. Only the finest would be shipped away. But still …
    Her father asked anxiously, “And your horse …?” He lifted his head and looked around. “Is he here? Is he safe?”
    Ellie looked around, too. She saw sand and sea, and moonlight. But the wild horse had gone. And the others, too.
    â€œHe’s not here anymore.” Ellie smiled at her father reassuringly. “But he came with me. He followed me here, away from the roundup. And his little herd came with us. I know he wasn’t taken.”
    â€œSo, he’s safe. And his family as well.”
    â€œYes, they’re all safe,” Ellie said. “Thank you, Pa,