Sam's Ride Read online

  “Thought you’d take a bath, did you?” said Grandpa. He was grinning.

  Sam stared straight ahead. It wasn’t funny. He was freezing, and his jeans were stuck to his legs.

  For the rest of the way, he didn’t talk to Grandpa. They rode along a grassy road until they came to a small white house with a big barn beside it. A gray-haired woman wearing jeans and a blue shirt stood in the doorway of the house.

  “Do you think I could hang this boy of mine on your clothesline?” called Grandpa.

  CHAPTER SIX

  RIDING THE RANGE

  “Don’t be such a tease, James,” said Doctor McKinnon. “I heard you were coming, Sam, and I’m pleased to meet you. We’ll sit on the porch in the sun.”

  Doctor McKinnon brought out a plate of cookies. She and Grandpa sat in two wicker chairs, and Sam sat on the step. He pulled off his boots and his sopping wet socks while Grandpa told his neighbor what had happened.

  “I remember the exact same thing happening to your dad, Sam,” said Doctor McKinnon.

  “It did?” said Sam, shocked. He began to feel a little bit better.

  “That horse of his plopped itself right down in the creek. It seems just like yesterday that your dad stood on this porch too, dripping wet.”

  Grandpa chuckled. “I’d forgotten that. Jimmy was always getting into scrapes.”

  Sam took a big bite of a chocolate-chip cookie. It was delicious. The sun felt warm on his legs, and already his jeans were starting to dry.

  Doctor McKinnon and Grandpa talked about how long the good weather would last for haying and about a cow sale that was coming to town next month. Then Doctor McKinnon told Grandpa about a gate she needed help fixing.

  When it was time to go, Doctor McKinnon gave Grandpa a paper bag full of cookies. Grandpa stowed them in his saddlebag.

  “Save some of those cookies until you get home,” she warned as Grandpa and Sam rode off.

  “We’re going back a different way,” Grandpa said to Sam. “It takes a lot longer, but there’s something I want to show you.”

  Grandpa and Sam rode past Doctor McKinnon’s barn. They rode across a field and through several small groves of trees. They came to the creek again, but at this section there was a sturdy wooden bridge. Sam liked the clumping sound the horse’s hooves made on the boards.

  After a long time, the trail began to climb up a steep hillside. When they got to the top of the hill, Grandpa stopped.

  Below them stretched an ocean of pale green grass. Dotted across the grass were hundreds of black and brown cows.

  “Are those all your cows?” gasped Sam.

  “Every last one,” said Grandpa proudly. “This is their summer range. I’ll round them up in the fall.”

  “By yourself?” said Sam.

  “Tip and Major will help me. Tip is a working dog, and Major has good cow sense.”

  “Cow sense” must be more cowboy talk, thought Sam. He gazed around. He could see for miles and miles. He could see fields, forests and rolling hills.

  “Are we riding the range?” he said.

  “You bet we are,” said Grandpa.

  Sam grinned. Riding the range wasn’t scary after all. It was kind of fun.

  Sam didn’t say anything as they rode down the other side of the hill and back into the forest. He was imagining Grandpa and Tip and Major rounding up all those cows.

  Crash!

  Sam glimpsed something huge and dark charging through the trees. Then whoosh! Major and Bolt leaped sideways off the trail.

  “Whoa!” yelled Grandpa.

  Sam didn’t have time to yell. He flew through the air. His cowboy hat sailed off. He landed with a thump on the ground.

  Grandpa hopped down off Major. He hurried over to Sam.

  “My arm hurts,” moaned Sam. “I think it’s broken.”

  A few tears slid down his cheeks. He wiped his face with his shirtsleeve and sat up slowly.

  “Let me see if you can move your arm,” Grandpa said calmly. “Start with your fingers.”

  Sam wiggled his fingers back and forth. He didn’t want to tell Grandpa his arm wasn’t hurting that much now. Grandpa would think he had made a fuss over nothing.

  “Was it a bear?” whispered Sam.

  Grandpa smiled. “It was a moose. I think it was more startled of us. I’ll hoist you up.”

  Sam put his cowboy hat back on. He looked at Bolt. His heart started to pound. He took a big breath.

  “I’m not getting on,” he said in a loud voice. “I’m never riding again.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A LONG WALK

  “A cowboy always gets back on his horse when he falls off,” said Grandpa.

  “I’m not a cowboy,” said Sam. “And I’m not getting on.”

  Grandpa’s eyebrow twitched. “How are you going to get home?”

  “I’ll walk,” said Sam.

  Grandpa sighed. “Suit yourself. But it’s a long way.”

  Grandpa held on to Bolt’s lead rope and clucked at Major. They started walking down the trail. Grandpa didn’t look back.

  He doesn’t care, thought Sam. He felt flushed. He hurried to catch up. It was hard to walk on the rough trail in cowboy boots. He wished he had his runners on. Then he could run all the way home.

  When they had been walking for a long time, Grandpa turned around and said, “Change your mind?”

  “No,” said Sam stiffly.

  By the time they got back to the corral, Sam was hot and tired. His legs ached. He had blisters on both heels. He started toward the house, but Grandpa said, “Wait a minute. A cowboy always looks after his horse first.”

  “That wasn’t one of your stupid rules!” Sam burst out.

  “It’s one of my rules now,” said Grandpa.

  Sam took one look at Grandpa’s face. Then he muttered, “Fine.”

  He waited while Grandpa took the saddle and bridle off Bolt. Then he brushed the sweat and dust off the horse. He carried the saddle and bridle into the barn, and put the saddle on its rack and the bridle on a hook. Then he let Bolt loose in the corral with Major.

  Sam stormed into the house. He sped upstairs to his bedroom and slammed the door.

  He hated being a cowboy! And he hated Grandpa!

  He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time. Finally he drifted asleep, and when he woke up the light outside had faded.

  There was a knock on the door, and Grandpa said, “Supper is ready.”

  Sam didn’t answer. He waited until Grandpa’s footsteps had gone away, and then he got out his book. The book had seemed interesting before, but now it was boring. He sighed and put it down.

  For a while there had been noises coming from downstairs—pots and pans banging, the thump of wood being loaded into the stove, water running. Now there was silence.

  Sam opened the door. The smell of hamburgers cooking made his stomach rumble. He tiptoed to the top of the stairs. Tip sat at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at him.

  Sam sucked in his breath. Had Tip forgotten Grandpa’s rule about staying on his blanket?

  “Here, Tip,” said Sam softly. “Come on, boy.”

  Tip tilted his head, and then he bounded up the stairs. Sam pushed him into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind them.

  Tip explored Sam’s heap of clothes on the floor and the inside of the closet. Then he hopped up on the bed and curled into a ball.

  Sam searched in his duffel bag for two of the granola bars Mom had packed in case he got hungry at night. He tore off the wrappers. He gave one bar to Tip, who gulped it down in three big bites. Sam gobbled down the second bar. He lay down on the bed and put his hand on the dog’s soft back.

  Sam was just dozing off again when he heard his door open. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

  “Hey,” said Grandpa, “so that’s what you’re up to, Tip.”

  Sam held his breath. He felt the dog stir beside him.

  And then Grandpa said softl
y, “It’s okay, Tip. You stay right there tonight.”

  Sam let out a big sigh as the bedroom door clicked shut.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  STORM !

  A loud noise woke Sam in the middle of the night.

  Thunder!

  He climbed out of bed and went to the window.

  Lightning zigzagged across the sky. Thunder rumbled. Wind howled and rattled his window.

  Tip whined. Sam shivered. Grandpa’s house was old. It felt like it was going to blow right over.

  “Come on, Tip,” said Sam. “Let’s find Grandpa.”

  Grandpa was standing at the kitchen window. “It’s a dandy of a storm,” he said. “Come and have a look.”

  Grandpa didn’t sound worried. Sam stood beside him. Lightning flashed, and huge tree branches swayed back and forth.

  “Power will go out if this keeps up,” said Grandpa. “But I’ve brought in lots of wood for the stove. We’ll be safe and snug inside.”

  “What about Bolt and Major?” said Sam. “What about all the cows?”

  “I put the horses in the barn,” said Grandpa. “I could feel this storm coming. And a bit of bad weather won’t hurt those cows. They’ll hunker down.”

  Sam was glad he wasn’t a cow. He was glad he was watching the storm from inside the house.

  His stomach rumbled. “I’m hungry,” he said.

  “I was just going to suggest hot chocolate,” said Grandpa. “And maybe a warmed-up hamburger.”

  Sam sipped his hot chocolate while Grandpa heated the hamburger in a frying pan on the woodstove. He had just finished eating when the lights blinked off.

  Grandpa had flashlights ready. “A big tree must have fallen down somewhere,” he said. “Knocked out the lines. We’ll go back to bed, and then we’ll see what has to be done in the morning.”

  When Sam stood up, Tip stood up too. Sam held his breath. He thought the storm wouldn’t be so scary if Tip could stay with him.

  Grandpa didn’t say anything when Tip followed Sam upstairs. Tip jumped up onto the end of Sam’s bed. Sam pulled the covers right up to his chin.

  Crash! The thunder sounded like it was on top of them. Tip inched his way closer to Sam. Sam rubbed his ears. “Good boy,” he said. “Good boy.”

  When Sam woke up, it was morning. Tip was gone.

  Sam scrambled out of bed and ran to the window. The ground below was littered with fallen branches, but the wind had stopped.

  Sam found Grandpa and Tip in the kitchen. “Is the power still out?” said Sam.

  Grandpa was frying eggs. “Yup. The phone lines are down too. But the storm has passed by. There’s just some cleanup to do now.”

  Sam dove into his eggs.

  “I already ate,” said Grandpa. “While you finish up your breakfast, Tip and I’ll go outside and have a look around. See if there’s any damage.”

  Sam ate every last bite and put his plate in the sink. He walked around the house, peering out all the windows. There were tree branches lying everywhere on the ground.

  Grandpa had been gone a long time. Sam went to the door. He could hear Tip barking. He frowned. Tip sounded frantic.

  Sam stepped outside. He gazed around. Then his heart gave a huge jump. Grandpa lay on the ground beside a tall evergreen tree. A thick tree limb lay across his chest. Tip stood next to him, barking shrilly.

  “Grandpa!” shouted Sam.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A FAST RIDE

  Sam ran over to Grandpa. Grandpa’s face was gray. Blood seeped from a cut on his forehead.

  His lips moved, and Sam bent closer.

  “Darn branch…wind broke it off,” mumbled Grandpa. “Hanging in that tree…fell down and hit me on the head.”

  Sam tugged at the branch. It was heavy, but he managed to pull it off.

  Grandpa tried to stand up. Then he sank back to the ground. “Feel kind of dizzy,” he said. “Best if I stay here for a while.”

  He closed his eyes.

  “What should I do?” said Sam.

  But Grandpa didn’t answer him.

  “Grandpa!” cried Sam. “Grandpa!”

  Grandpa’s eyes stayed shut.

  Sam’s heart pounded. “Don’t worry, Grandpa,” he said. “I’ll get help!”

  Sam was a fast runner. But he didn’t know if he could run all the way to Doctor McKinnon’s house.

  He thought of Bolt.

  Sam’s heart thudded. He needed Dad’s lucky boots. He flew to the house. He pulled the boots on, jammed his cowboy hat on his head and grabbed a blanket off Grandpa’s bed.

  Sam ran back to Grandpa. He tucked the blanket around Grandpa’s shoulders.

  Tip’s brown eyes looked worried. “You stay here, Tip,” said Sam. “You look after Grandpa.”

  Sam raced to the barn.

  Bolt and Major were in their stalls, eating. Bolt looked up with interest at Sam.

  “You gotta help me, Bolt,” said Sam. “We’ve gotta save Grandpa.”

  Sam set the wooden crate upside down in the stall beside Bolt. Then he got the saddle and the blanket. He threw the blanket over Bolt’s back. He climbed up on the crate with the saddle and heaved it on top of the blanket. He tightened the leather girth.

  Sam picked up Bolt’s bridle. Grandpa made it look so easy, but it wasn’t. There were straps and buckles everywhere. Sam’s hands shook as he slid the bridle over Bolt’s head. Bolt opened his mouth, and Sam slipped the bit between his teeth.

  Bolt was ready. Sam’s heart pounded as he led the horse outside the barn. He ran back for the crate and put it beside Bolt. Then he climbed onto the horse’s back.

  Sam didn’t want to go through the creek again. But it was the shortest way to Doctor McKinnon’s house.

  He rode Bolt through the open gate into the field. He held on to the saddle horn and kicked Bolt’s sides.

  Bolt started to trot. Sam bounced up and down. But he didn’t fall off.

  Across the field they trotted. Down the long grassy slope and along the trail through the forest.

  A deer bounded through the trees, and Bolt jumped. Sam clung on tightly.

  When they came to the creek, Sam’s stomach tightened. But Bolt splashed right through without stopping.

  Sam leaned over and patted Bolt’s neck. “Good boy,” he said.

  Up the grassy road they trotted. Bolt didn’t stop until he got to Doctor McKinnon’s house.

  Sam slid off the horse’s back. His legs felt weak.

  “Doctor McKinnon!” he yelled. “Grandpa’s hurt!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  SAM'S PROMISE

  Doctor McKinnon knew just what to do. She put Bolt in her barn. Then she and Sam got in her truck and drove to Grandpa’s ranch.

  Doctor McKinnon and Sam climbed out of the truck and hurried over to Grandpa. Grandpa was sitting up, leaning against the tree. His eyes were open, but his face was white. Tip was lying beside him. He jumped up and barked.

  “How did you know to come?” said Grandpa to Doctor McKinnon.

  “Sam got me,” said Doctor McKinnon in a matter-of-fact voice. “He rode Bolt over to my house.”

  Grandpa didn’t look surprised. He said, “That boy of mine. He’s something else.”

  Sam thought Grandpa was talking about Dad again. Until Grandpa looked right at him and said, “Thank you, Sam.”

  “You’re welcome,” mumbled Sam.

  Doctor McKinnon peered at Grandpa’s forehead. “That’s a nasty cut, and I’ll bet you’ll end up with a big goose egg. It’s a good thing Sam got me. You’re going to need stitches.”

  “Now, now, don’t fuss,” protested Grandpa weakly.

  “I’m not fussing,” said Doctor McKinnon. “I’m telling you straight. Sam and I are going to get you into my truck, and we’re going to the hospital. The doctors will need to check for a concussion too.”

  Sam and Doctor McKinnon each took one of Grandpa’s arms and helped him walk to the truck. Once Grandpa was settled in the front seat wi
th a blanket over his shoulders, Sam scrambled into the backseat.

  “Don’t forget Tip,” said Grandpa. “He’ll fret if he’s left alone.”

  Tip jumped into the truck. Sam petted the dog, who curled up beside him.

  “Now don’t you worry about anything, Sam,” said Doctor McKinnon as they headed down the road. “Your Grandpa is a tough nut. He’ll be back in the saddle in a week.”

  Sam leaned forward. “Grandpa, do you think Bolt has good cow sense?”

  “Well, now, I know he does,” said Grandpa.

  “Can I come back in the fall and help you round up the cows?”

  Sam held his breath. Grandpa turned around in his seat. His face was lit up with a huge smile.

  “You better make that a promise,” he said. “I’ll need a good cowboy.”

  “I promise,” said Sam.

  BECKY CITRA is the author of more than a dozen books for young readers. She has written two popular series for Orca: the Ellie and Max historical novels, and the Jeremy and the Enchanted Theater time-travel books. Becky lives on a ranch in Bridge Lake, British Columbia.

 

 

  Becky Citra, Sam's Ride

 

 

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