Dark Sunshine (Phantom Stallion)

Dark Sunshine (Phantom Stallion)

The beloved third book in the middle grade Phantom Stallion series about a girl, her horse, and the beauty of the American West returns with a brand-new, stunning cover and bonus material! Perfect for fans of Canterwood Crest and classic horse stories like Black Beauty and My Friend Flicka . When Sam rescues an abused mare from a group of outlaw horse rustlers, she knows she’s done the right thing. But the ranch already has a full corral, a long drought means the cattle are running out of grass, and her dad has told her she can’t adopt another mustang. Even worse, the mare is skittish and unruly after being hurt by her former owners. Can Sam get the frightened horse to trust her and find a way to give her a home? Terri Farley has always loved horses and is overjoyed that she outgrew her childhood allergy to them. She taught middle school and high school language arts and journalism in inner-city Los Angeles before moving to the cowgirl state of Nevada. Now she rides the range researching the books that have made her an award-winning author and an advocate for the West’s wild places and wildlife—especially wild horses. Through school and library visits, Terri continues to work with young people learning to make their voices heard. She lives in a one-hundred-year-old house with her family, which includes her dog, Willow. In true collie fashion, Willow rescued the youngest member of the Farley family, an orphaned kitten named Tamarack. Chapter 1 Chapter 1 THE SWEET SMELL OF HORSES and hay carried to Samantha Forster on an early-morning breeze. She eased the front door closed behind her. Everyone inside was asleep. By rising at four o’clock, she’d beaten even Dad out of bed. Sam stifled a yawn. She could have slept in on this September Saturday, but she and Jen planned to unlock the secrets of Lost Canyon before the sun rose. Strange things were happening in Lost Canyon. Weird white plumes rose skyward. Were they dust, smoke, or spirits, as some Shoshone elders hinted? And what about those eerie screams? Standing at the bus stop just the other morning, Sam and Jen had heard the faraway wails. Though they’d agreed those sounds weren’t the cries of Native ponies slaughtered there a hundred years ago, she and Jen had scared each other with other “what-ifs.” They’d been rubbing gooseflesh from their arms when the school bus finally arrived. Now Sam moved silently across the front porch of the white, two-story house. She carried her boots and walked in stockinged feet. With Gram and Dad still asleep, River Bend Ranch was all hers. Darkness cloaked the neat pens and corrals, the barn and bunkhouse, and the surrounding rangelands where Hereford cattle grazed, but Sam knew it was all there waiting for her. As she pulled on her scarred leather boots, Sam glanced toward the river. Across the current, on the wild side of the river, the Phantom could be waiting. But he had never come to the ranch this near sunrise and probably never would. Sam hefted her saddlebags and canteen and walked toward the barn. Blaze woofed from his post outside the bunkhouse. The Border Collie’s bark startled a horse. Its hooves went thudding across the ten-acre pasture. A few steps from the barn, a neigh challenged her. “It’s only me, baby,” Sam whispered. She hurried. Once Ace knew it was her, he’d set up a ruckus. Fingers flying, Sam drew the bolt on the door connecting the barn and corral. Ace followed as Sam flipped the switch for the overhead lights. The little mustang nudged Sam until he backed her against the barn wall. That nudge, what Dallas, the ranch foreman, would call misbehavior, she called love. “You are too sweet.” She caught Ace’s muzzle between her hands and gave it a quick kiss. Sam dragged a curry comb over Ace’s already glowing coat. He wasn’t crosstied or tethered; he just stood with eyes half-closed as he enjoyed the massaging movements of the brush. When Sam stopped, Ace looked back over his shoulder as she smoothed on the blanket. Next, she saddled him and replaced his halter with a snaffle-bitted bridle. Sam shivered. She should have remembered a jacket. Since she hadn’t, she snatched the faded green sweatshirt she kept hanging from a nail in the barn. Before pulling it on, she dropped Ace’s reins, ground-tying him. Like any well-schooled cow pony, Ace understood the signal to stand and wait. He snorted with impatience, though, as Sam tugged the sweatshirt over her short reddish hair. “Sorry.” Sam’s muffled voice came from inside the sweatshirt. Ace pawed the barn floor, stirring dust until she led him into the yard. Before she could mount, Ace raised his finely boned, almost Arabic head. His nostrils flared as he gazed at the Calico Mountains, where a rim of midnight blue showed above the peaks. Sam swung into the saddle. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she told the horse. “We’re heading away from his territory.” Sam shifted her weight slightly. Ace started toward