One Brave Summer (Quartz Creek Ranch) Read online

  Text copyright © 2017 by Kiersi Burkhart and Amber J. Keyser

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

  Darby Creek

  A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  241 First Avenue North

  Minneapolis, MN 55401 USA

  For reading levels and more information, look up this title at www.lernerbooks.com.

  The images in this book are used with the permission of: © iStockphoto.com/Piotr Krzes´lak (wood background).

  Front cover: © Barbara O’Brien Photography.

  Back cover: © iStockphoto.com/ImagineGolf

  Main body text set in Bembo Std regular 12.5/17.

  Typeface provided by Monotype Typography.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Burkhart, Kiersi, author. | Keyser, Amber, author.

  Title: One brave summer / by Kiersi Burkhart and Amber J. Keyser.

  Description: Minneapolis : Darby Creek, [2017] | Series: Quartz Creek Ranch | Summary: “To learn to ride Prince, gamer Paley is forced to identify her real-life powers. But her newfound courage will be tested when ranch neighbors threaten to steal an exciting discovery”— Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016015781 (print) | LCCN 2016028416 (ebook) | ISBN 9781467792547 (th : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781512430882 (pb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781512408928 (eb pdf)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Ranch life—Fiction. | Horses—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Fossils—Fiction. | African Americans—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.B88 On 2017 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.B88 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016015781

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1-38282-20007-8/24/2016

  9781512434798 ePub

  9781512434804 ePub

  9781512434811 mobi

  For all the strong, brave horses who have left a hoofprint in my life: you spotted beauties, all of you.

  —K.B.

  For Beryl, my favorite horse girl.

  —A.K.

  Chapter One

  Paley Dixon had almost earned enough gold to buy a dragon’s egg. All she had to do was accomplish three more tasks for the Elder Mage, and she would be on her way to Glendel Cave. The light from the screen illuminated her face as she spun the wheel on the mouse and directed the Blue Elf toward the Misery Marshes.

  Paley had stayed up all night to get this far. Outside, the sun began to climb in the sky. In-game it was dusk, and the Blue Elf was on the move. Reeds rustled against her leather pants. Gold coins in the pouch at her thigh rattled. On the other side of Paley’s bedroom door, she heard steps. Her mother, no doubt, pausing to fret at Paley’s door before moving on to wake up Paley’s nine-year-old brother in the next room.

  Paley reached for her headphones without taking her eyes from the screen to block out the loud noise her brother would be making soon. This part of the game was tricky. There were fire snakes.

  The Elder Mage, a tall, copper-skinned man with a hooked nose and a mane of silver hair, held out a piece of parchment. The Blue Elf took it in her slender, dark fingers and read the message—Retrieve twelve hairs from the tail of a golden fox. The elf bowed, her blue hair like a waterfall. She swept it back and turned away from the Mage and toward Paley.

  The graphics were so real that Paley thought she caught the Blue Elf wink at her, one sky-blue eye in a face as dark as night. Paley winked back as if the Blue Elf were her own reflection, even though her own eyes and skin were brown and her real-life ears were definitely not pointy.

  Then the Blue Elf was off again, muscles rippling, as she raced across the Misery Marshes.

  Paley reached for a bag of chips. Empty. She balled the foil and tossed it to the floor. There was no time to stop for food. The faster she got those fox hairs, the closer she’d be to her dragon.

  Light flooded her room as her dad flipped on the switch and pulled the cord on the mini blind. “It’s time to go.”

  Paley squinted against the brightness as she scrabbled at the keyboard. “Can’t. Got to finish. So close.”

  “Paley,” he said, “shut down the game.”

  “Just a second!” she screeched, sounding way too goblin, even to herself.

  Her dad picked up the potato chip wrapper. It crinkled as he threw it in the trash. “The car is loaded.”

  “I have to finish this quest!”

  “We have to drop your brother off at his friend’s house and hit the road.” He leaned over and turned off the computer.

  Paley roared, more cave troll rumble than goblin shriek this time. “You can’t do that!”

  “I can and I did. It’s time to go,” he repeated, plucking the headphones off her head.

  She slammed the mouse on the desk and refused to look at him. He watched her without speaking for a long time. She glared at the blank screen.

  “You agreed to this.”

  “Only because it was better than stupid basketball camp.”

  Her dad’s eyes narrowed, and his nose pinched together like he’d stumbled into a stench pit in the Misery Marshes. “We’ve been through this, Paley. You can’t stay in this dark room playing video games forever. You’ve got to make an effort.”

  She spun her desk chair around so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

  Moving from Los Angeles to Denver right before starting middle school had been awful. Her parents thought she hadn’t tried to make friends, but she had.

  At least at first.

  But all the kids already knew one another from fifth grade and were into stuff like skiing and cyclocross. It didn’t help that she was one of the only black kids at school. The Blue Elf had better things to do than suck up to a bunch of obnoxious brats, and it wasn’t like she expected seventh grade to be any better. Right now, all Paley wanted was the summer.

  The whole summer.

  To lose herself in the world of Dragonfyre, the place where she could accomplish anything.

  “Hey, you two!” Paley’s mom leaned into the room, her smile as forced as her cheery tone. “Horses are waiting!”

  “Maybe you should go to camp, then,” Paley muttered.

  Her parents exchanged a worried glance.

  Paley wished she was a snot-dripping cave troll so she could toss them out of the way and get back to finding those fox hairs. As far as Paley could tell, the only good thing about getting banished to a horse ranch in the middle of nowhere for six weeks was that she wouldn’t have to listen to her parents lecture her about reaching out and finding new interests.

  The Blue Elf wouldn’t let anyone push her around like this, but Paley Dixon wasn’t the Blue Elf, and her parents were pulling the plug.

  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

  Paley made a point of not speaking for the entire drive from Denver to Quartz Creek Ranch. With every mile, the dragon’s egg slipped further out of reach. The stupid camp they were sending her to didn’t allow technology. It was practically child abuse.

  In the front seat, her parents tuned in country music. In the back, Paley alternated between glowering out the window and studying the big, glossy book of game art from Dragonfyre cradled in her lap. As they left the city and the suburbs far behind and began to climb into the mountains, Paley lingered on the pages with horses.

&nb
sp; Armored stallions stamped their gilded hooves, and the vampire horses dripped blood from their sharp fangs. Best of all were the winged mares that shot through the sky like comets. If the Blue Elf couldn’t have a dragon, Paley wanted one of those, especially if it breathed fire.

  It was nearly lunchtime by the time they drove through the town of Quartz Creek. Paley closed the book and stared at the cutesy shops that lined Main Street. A sign in the window of the local rock shop read Rock My World! The candy store proclaimed Taffy Making on Fridays!

  Paley felt like she was in a cautionary after-school TV special. Troubled kid from LA goes to horse camp and everything turns out roses and cupcakes.

  Her stomach growled. If only she could conjure a cupcake.

  A few blocks down the road, she spied a comic book shop. That was promising.

  If they ever let her into town.

  Main Street was so short that five minutes later, they had passed all the way through town. It seemed to Paley that a single city block in LA could swallow all of dinky old Quartz Creek, Colorado.

  After just a few more minutes, her dad turned onto a dirt road and they were passing under a metal arch that read QUARTZ CREEK RANCH. Paley wished she could teleport back to LA. Still, she couldn’t help plastering her face against the car window. A stream tumbled alongside the dirt road. Velvety-green horse pastures rolled away into the hills on either side.

  And oh, the horses!

  Even a cave troll could get excited about animals like these. White ones like cloud fluff. A gray one spotted with stars. Brown ones that looked like cinnamon and caramel and chocolate and everything good.

  Her dad parked the car next to a big ranch house with a wide front porch and huge windows facing the mountains to the west. That felt right to Paley. When she played Dragonfyre, she always remembered to face west when spell-casting. Ignoring the cardinal directions on the game map always caused magic to backfire.

  Paley got out of the car and stretched. The smell of newly cut grass and the sound of birds enveloped her. The heavy, horrible weight of the last year at school felt a little lighter. Maybe she could stop being a cave troll after all. Paley frowned. It was a classic Dragonfyre trap. Just when you thought that you were home free, the goblins always came roaring down on you. No one was going to catch her with her guard down.

  Paley squinted against the sun and scrutinized the ranch.

  Near the big house were two little cabins with porches. A split-rail fence ran along the edge of the gravel parking area. Horses dotted the pasture. On the other side of the creek was a big barn and an outdoor riding arena filled with kids and horses.

  Paley had almost forgotten that there would be other kids here. She couldn’t believe her parents thought she belonged with a bunch of troublemakers. Being a gamer wasn’t a problem! No, it’s not, her mom had said. But being online every waking moment is. Paley kicked her toes in the gravel.

  Up on the porch, her parents were talking in that super-serious, worried-parent way with an older couple. Paley ignored them and climbed up one rung of the fence to look at the horses. Three of them grazed placidly. They were lovely but definitely not fierce. If she was going to learn how to joust this summer, she needed a much bigger mount.

  The thundering of hooves brought her back to reality.

  From far off in the pasture came a huge horse in full gallop. It raced across the field, scattering the other horses. Its coat was black as midnight, and its muscles rippled, sleek as a panther. At the top of a small rise, it stopped, surveying its realm before sauntering toward her. A hundred feet from Paley, it tossed its head and neighed.

  Paley almost jumped out of her skin with excitement.

  This was a storybook horse. The perfect steed to carry the Blue Elf into battle.

  All around the horse, the sunlight gleamed and sparkled. It was so dazzling, Paley wouldn’t have been surprised if it had unfurled wings.

  “Well, Paley, what do you think?” The older woman who had been talking to her parents leaned over the fence and tilted her head toward the huge black horse. She had curly gray hair and was wearing Wranglers and a T-shirt that said My Other Car Is a Horse.

  “Magnificent!” Paley said, mesmerized by the way the horse’s coat shone blue-black in the sun.

  The older man joined them at the fence. “Don’t let Prince hear you call him magnificent. He’s already got a big head,” he said, chuckling.

  “His name is Prince?” asked Paley, looking up at the tall, stern-faced man with dark, coppery skin.

  “Yes, indeed, little lady.” He tipped his cowboy hat, revealing short, salt-and-pepper hair. “And I’m Willard Bridle. This here is Ma Etty. We’re glad to have you at the ranch.” His voice was low and slow, and he smelled like bacon and coffee.

  Paley squinted up at him. Mr. Bridle reminded her of the Elder Mage. Minus the long, silver hair, of course. Switch out the jeans and flannel for some robes and—presto! It was easy to imagine Mr. Bridle sitting around a fire practicing spells.

  “I never get tired of horses,” said Ma Etty, leaning over the fence. “I could watch them forever.” In-game, Ma Etty would be a healer with a bag full of herbs and maybe a dried newt or two.

  “I can’t wait to ride,” said Paley, unable to contain the dazzling feeling Prince had sparked in her.

  Ma Etty laughed, and the wrinkles around her eyes crinkled up in a happy way. “This one’s perfect for us, isn’t she, Mr. Bridle?”

  “Indeed,” he said. “After lunch, I’ll have Fletch bring Mr. Magnificent into the barn so you two can get acquainted.”

  “Wait. What?” Paley glanced between the couple. “I get to ride Prince?” She could already see herself on his back, racing the wind.

  The old woman slung her arm around Paley’s shoulders. “He’s your horse all summer.”

  “Really?” Paley gasped. It was like stumbling upon a treasure cache, unexpected and unearned.

  “You betcha!” Ma Etty laughed. She was short, only a little taller than Paley, but way more fit. The year of cave trolling had left Paley pudgy and out of shape, but she didn’t try to shake off the old woman’s squeeze. All the healers were kind people.

  Unlike her parents.

  Paley scowled at them as they finished unloading her duffel bag from the car.

  “All right, then,” said her mom, clasping her hands in front of her. “I guess this is good-bye.”

  “We’ll take good care of her,” said Mr. Bridle.

  “And no computers, right?” her father prompted.

  “No computers, no cell phones. Usually folks can’t find a signal out here anyway. We do have one computer, but it’s used for work and research. That’s it,” Ma Etty assured him.

  Paley backed away from Ma Etty. So much for the old lady being a kind and helpful healer. Her parents shook hands with the Bridles and said stupid, fakey things and shot worried glances her way, but all Paley could think about was how much this summer was going to suck.

  No computer.

  No game.

  No Blue Elf.

  Even a horse like Prince couldn’t save her now.

  Chapter Two

  Paley didn’t bother to watch her parents leave. She’d had enough of This is for your own good and You need some good, old-fashioned outside time. First they forced her to leave LA. Now this.

  “Let’s eat. I’m starving,” said Ma Etty, leading the way toward the back of the big house. A fluffy, white hen waddled in front of her. “Don’t worry, Marshmallow. You’re not on the menu.”

  Paley looked up. “Are you talking to that chicken?”

  Ma Etty laughed again, and three more chickens came running toward the sound of her voice. “You bet I am. These are my babies.”

  Mr. Bridle chuckled. “She names them all after food.”

  “Seriously?” Paley couldn’t believe these two. Since when were old people so . . . so . . . goofy?

  “That’s Dumpling, Hot Tamale, and Pat o’ Butter,” said Ma Etty, po
inting to each hen in turn. “But they are all layers, not broilers. You could help me collect eggs, if you’d like, one of these days.”

  “No, thanks.” Paley shoved her hands in her pockets. Chicken eggs were a poor substitute for dragon eggs.

  Paley followed the Bridles up the back porch steps. Mr. Bridle held the door open for them, and Ma Etty ushered Paley inside the big screened porch like another one of her chickens. “Leave your boots here, honey.”

  Various hats and coats hung from a row of hooks. Muck boots, cowboy boots, sneakers, and a very beat-up pair of fluffy slippers were lined up near the door. Paley left her scuffed, hand-me-down cowboy boots next to a pair of fancy knee-high riding boots.

  She slipped on sock feet down a wide hallway. The first room on the left was an office. Paley paused at the open door, which had a sign taped to it: Internal Affairs. The work-only computer sat in the middle of a desk covered with open ledgers, stacks of official-looking documents, and several newspapers.

  That was a waste of a perfectly good Internet connection.

  Paley slumped after Ma Etty into a big, sunny kitchen. A girl with strawberry blonde hair was laying out sandwich fixings. She wore pristine riding clothes—tan jodhpurs and a pressed white blouse.

  “Well, look at you, Leila!” said Ma Etty. “You’ve prepped everything. Thanks!” The girl grinned at her. Ma Etty introduced Paley and urged them to make their sandwiches before the rest of the crew showed up.

  “How was your morning lesson?” Ma Etty asked Leila as she slathered mayo on bread.

  “Best ever.”

  “That’s something, given how much riding you’ve done, missy.”

  “Cupcake is such a sweet horse.”

  Ma Etty pulled down a stack of plates. “Wait until you see her play soccer.”

  “Soccer?” asked Paley and Leila together.

  “You betcha!” Ma Etty’s eyes twinkled. “Ask Madison to show you one of these days.”

  “Show ’em what?” A pretty, college-aged girl with long, dark hair and bangs followed them into the kitchen. “Just what are you signing me up for, Ma Etty?” She stuck out her hand toward Paley, who shook it. “I’m Madison, one of your trainers. You must be Paley.”