Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

As a precaution, when she’d lined up the riders for the trail, she’d placed Patrick at the front, right behind her. She’d put Mack at the end, just ahead of Jake. Mack had grumbled about eating dust and riding through poop, but Kira had chosen to ignore his complaints.

With the sun at the peak of the sky, they reached the grassy meadow where they planned to rest and have lunch before starting back. It was a beautiful spot, rich with long grass and dotted with red and purple lupines. By now, the students had been in the saddle for almost four hours. They were sore and tired. Some of them groaned good-naturedly as they dismounted and slipped to the ground.

Patrick was about to climb off his horse, when Mack broke out of the line and rode up next to him. “Race you to that big stump,” Mack said, pointing to a dead tree on the far side of the meadow. “Loser’s a stinkin’ coward!”

With that, he kicked Patches hard in the flanks. The startled horse whinnied, reared and was off like a shot.

Kira had already dismounted. “Stop!” she shouted.

Patrick, still recovering from his surprise, heard her and reined to a halt. But Mack, clinging onto Patches, was out of control. There was no way he could stop his panicked horse.

Jake, still mounted at the rear of the line, could do little except watch in horror. The ground in the meadow would be like a sponge, pitted with holes and burrows, where a horse could easily catch a leg and go down. Patches was too fast, and too far ahead, for Dynamite to catch up with him; and even if Kira were to leap into the saddle and give chase, she’d be too late to stop the runaway, especially given the risk to her mare.

Telling the students to stay put, she took off on foot, racing through the grass. Leaving his horse, Jake charged after her.

Two-thirds of the way across the meadow, Patches stumbled and pitched forward onto his knees. Mack flew out of the saddle, went over the horse’s shoulder and landed in the grass.

Adrenaline surged through Jake’s body as he ran. Mack was wearing his helmet, but that wouldn’t save the fool boy from a broken neck or even worse. Kira, he knew, would be frantic.

Patches lurched to his feet, shook himself and wandered off to graze. Jake could make out a streak of red across one knee. At least the horse didn’t appear to be badly hurt. But what about Mack?

Kira had nearly reached the boy as he sat up. Cursing with relief, Jake sprinted toward them and caught up. Mack was stunned, but moving his arms and legs. Jake extended a hand and pulled the boy to his feet. He was pale and shaken, but nothing appeared to be broken.

Kira was white with fury. Jake had never seen her so angry.

“You were lucky!” she snapped. “You could have killed yourself and that poor horse, or put yourself in a wheelchair for the rest of your life!” She turned to Jake. “Take him back to the others and keep him there. I need to get Patches and look at his leg.”

With Mack beside him, Jake started back across the meadow, to where the other students waited. “What the devil were you thinking?” he demanded. “You should’ve known better than to race off like that.”

“I was just bored,” Mack said. “All we have around here is rules, rules, rules. Aren’t rules meant to be broken sometimes?” He gave Jake a smile, hoping for approval. Jake didn’t smile back. It was all he could do to keep from grabbing the young fool by the shoulders and shaking some sense into him.

The other students stood silent, most of them watching Kira lead Patches back across the meadow. Only Patrick stepped forward as Mack reached the group. He was grinning. “Boy, you really screwed up this time. I’ll bet you’re gonna get sent home for this.”

“Then I don’t have a friggin’ thing to lose, do I?” Mack took a step, swung and crunched his fist into Patrick’s eye.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Still dressed in her dusty riding clothes, Kira faced Mack across her desk. “You know the rules, Mack. Any student who hurts an animal or another student has to leave the ranch. Today you did both. I’m about to phone your parents. Do you want to tell them what happened, or would you rather I do it?”

Mack had been slumped in the str

aight-backed chair, eyes sullen, lower lip thrust outward. Now tears welled in his eyes. “Please don’t call them!” he begged. “My dad will kill me! Please—he’ll lock me in my room and take my phone away for a month! He won’t even let me watch TV or go to the gym. And he’ll yell at me—you’ve never heard anybody yell like he does!”

Kira hated the process of sending a student home, but she’d done it enough times to know what to expect. “You should have thought of that before you broke the rules,” she said.

“Please give me another chance!” He was gripping the edge of the desk, almost on his knees. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

“Tell that to Patrick. Jake had to take him to the doctor in town to get his eye checked. You’d better hope the damage doesn’t turn out to be serious.”

“It was Patrick’s fault, too. If he hadn’t made me mad, I wouldn’t have hit him.”

“Patches cut his knee when he stumbled. He could’ve broken his leg. What if we’d had to call the vet and have Patches put down? Would that have been his fault, too?”

Mack stared at the floor, saying nothing.

Jake had left the meadow early, riding double with Patrick on Dynamite and leading Patches, who was still too skittish to be ridden. The other students had eaten their lunches, then headed back down the trail with Mack riding Patrick’s horse. The outing should have been fun for the students. But by the time they got back to the ranch, nobody was in a good mood. They’d put away their horses, eaten dinner and gone to their cabins—except for Mack, who had to face the consequences of what he’d done.

Kira picked up the phone. “Last chance. Do you want to make the call?”