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CHAPTER FIVE

Storm’s crackled. They spit. They brewed. And most importantly, they struck down and destroyed.

Ethereal sprinted behind the rest and Cheyenne clung to her back. Her body moved in complete accordance. And at one time, Cheyenne even soared off Ethereal’s back, sprinted across an embankment, and jumped back on as Ethereal rounded the other side.

She landed tight and kept going, pressing Ethereal farther and farther.

The rain started a few hours ago. It kept pouring.

And the horses were racing away from the tide.

Mountain streams overflow when enough rain builds up.

They overflow and tumble down the hills.

Mountain Creig was protected. Sandbags and dikes were built to ford the river away from them, but the horses weren’t safe.

Most of the ranches also kept the same protection, but a few couldn’t afford to. And those were the ones that never lasted. The owners always upped and left, not able to finance any clean-up.

Those homes were left abandoned, until whatever passing group decided to hole up for awhile.

Those were the ones who learned too late how treacherous living in Mountain Creig could be.

There was a reason the houses were abandoned, but none adhered to their common sense.

Those were the screams that Cheyenne heard and that was why she pressed ahead, urging Ethereal to go as fast as she could.

The herd moved with them, as far as they could, and then it was just Ethereal and Cheyenne.

The herd moved away, sprinting to still avoid the impending streams.

Cheyenne rode as far as she could and then she slipped off Ethereal’s back and shooed her away.

The mare didn’t want to go, but Cheyenne threw enough stones and eventually, the mare left her companion, reluctantly.

Then the starred stallion called and Ethereal snorted, jerked her head upright, and kicked up the water as she raced to catch up.

Cheyenne was left on a cliff where she heard more screams from below.

Cheyenne knew where to step and where to avoid, but the rising waters slowed her down. It took too long until she finally neared the abandoned ranch below. It had been where the Mulrights lived.

She remembered their daughter. She’d had a crush on Jordan, like everyone else, but the first storm chased them away before Jordan realized who Meloday Mulrright had been.

Cheyenne had always kind of liked Meloday. She seemed lost in her own world and she was always doodling in some journal. Cheyenne almost felt a kindred spirit, but the storm left them bankrupt. Cheyenne lost a potential friend and didn’t care about the next family who moved in.

They moved out, like all the rest.

Cheyenne got close enough, but was forced to wait at the end of the lawn. Too much water had risen and the undercurrents were fast propelling anything in it’s trail through the lawn.

Down the driveway, she saw two men and a woman. A dog had been caught in the storm and they were chasing after it.

The dog was lost. It would either swim free, wait out the current until it landed, or it would die. They couldn’t do anything to save it and while they tried, they might get swept up instead.

Cheyenne saw another girl come to the house’s doorway. She was panicked with wild red hair. And she was struggling to stand from the water that pooled around her feet and threatened to sweep her along it’s path.

“Grab something!” Cheyenne yelled across the lawn.

The girl looked up, frantic, and screamed, “Help me!”

“Grab something to hold onto. You need to find something to anchor you. I can’t get over there, not yet.” Cheyenne shouted. She searched for a path to cross the lawn, but there was none. And so she swept her gaze out beyond the abandoned barns. Whatever corral had been mounted in the back field was gone. The waters were ferocious with this storm.

And then she caught a small path, almost too small for her to cross, but the waters parted around two boulders above the barn.

“I’ll be back. I have to go around.” Cheyenne called out.

“Don’t leave me!” The girl cried, helpless and desperate.

“Find something sturdy, like a rope and then tie yourself to a tree or something.” Cheyenne instructed as she was already turning away to pick her path around the lawn.

“I can’t!” The girl sobbed. “I can’t…”

Cheyenne was no longer listening. She was concentrating on finding the right footing for her approach.

She knew the land, but she didn’t know the Mulrights’ farm. She’d been only been there a handful of times, not enough to memorize the layout. But terrain was terrain. Where rocks would certainly be, Cheyenne knew the little ones had already been swept clean while the stronger ones held firm. Those were the ones she went to and used for her dissent.

It took enough time. Cheyenne stopped hearing the girl sobbing, but she couldn’t do anything about that. Not yet, anyway. And then she was finally inside the barn. Cheyenne quickly climbed to the second floor and sprinted over the dry straw. She came to the opened window and double-checked. The girl was still there, standing frozen in place.

Cheyenne used a ladder that had been nailed to the outside wall. She crawled down the side of the barn and kept going. She needed to circle south of the house before she could cross to trail back north, behind the house.

The two men and woman were gone. No doubt either caught in their water’s torrent or still seeking the dog.

Cheyenne plastered herself against the back of the house. She came upon the back porch and used that as leverage to climb up to the roof. From there, she meticulously slid down the roof onto the other side and then hung her head over, just above the stranded girl.

“Okay. I’m here.” Cheyenne said calmly.

The girl screamed.

And that was when Cheyenne realized it was Meloday Mulright.

“Meloday?” Cheyenne asked.

The screaming stopped and she blinked, dazed.

“Yeah?”

“Come on.” Cheyenne offered her arm. “I can’t boost you all the way up, so you’re going to have to help a little. Grab the door, use that door to jump up here.”

“Oh my god.” Meloday panted. “Who does this?”

“Me.” Cheyenne said truthfully. “Now come on.”

Meloday clasped her arm. Cheyenne’s hand linked on her arm as Meloday’s did the same with her arm and then Cheyenne knelt, precariously, to use her legs for strength. They found a hold on the roof, but Meloday helped mostly when she stood on a windowsill. She was on the roof now, through the waist, and she needed a little further to go.

“Okay.” Cheyenne scooted back. “You really need to push yourself up the last way. I can hold onto you, but if you grab me—we might both go over.”

“Something tells me that you’ll be fine.” Meloday grunted, but she pulled herself up and over, inch by inch.

Cheyenne had just shown her a way, but Meloday did the work.

“Good job.” Cheyenne smiled.

Meloday laughed, relieved, and then sobered abruptly, “My friends.”
“They’re gone. You can’t help them right now.”

“What are we going to do?”

If she’d been by herself, Cheyenne knew a way to circle back to Jordan’s home, but she wasn’t by herself. Cheyenne knew the mountain like the back of her hand. Other people were different. Even Jordan would’ve struggled. She couldn’t ask Meloday to take the trek with her.

“We wait out the storm.”

“That could take hours.”

Cheyenne shrugged. “You got somewhere to go?”

“We’re going to freeze to death.” And Meloday shivered on cue.

“If the storm lasts through the night, we’ll have to move. We can go to the barn. The second floor has straw. We’ll be warm in there. I think I saw a blanket or two, but for now—we can wait it out. It’s warm enough. We’ll be fine.”
Meloday sniffled and hugged her knees to her chest. She’d grown up, but wore tie-dyed sweatshirt and blue jeans that looked like they’d been used to paint. Splotches of paint were splattered over them. Her sneakers looked like they’d been bought at a thrift shop.

“What? I’m dressed proper enough for you?” Meloday grumbled.

“No.” Cheyenne replied and sat more comfortably. “I was just thinking that you look different from when you lived here.”

Meloday’s chocolate eyes shot up, focused, and then she exclaimed, “Oh god. You’re that Scott girl. I remember you.”

“Hi. My name is Cheyenne.”

“Oh great. This is just great.” Meloday said, disgusted.

“Why’s it great?” Cheyenne knew what she meant, but chose to take the literal meaning.

“Because I came back here to…and this happened. I thought that we could stay there, as long as no storms came, but now I’m stranded on my old roof with you.”

“What do you have against me?”

“Nothing. You’re just…not who I came back for.”

Cheyenne sat back and stared. And then she smiled and asked, “You came back for a boy, didn’t you? You used to like Jordan Emerson. Is it him?”

Meloday cursed, but shook her head, “I know. It’s sad, isn’t it? Why are we talking about this?”

“Because we’re stranded and we’re not going anywhere too soon. What’s the hurt?”

“Point taken.” Meloday acknowledged. “Fine. I came back because I have this childish fantasy. I’ve always had it. I’m somewhat successful as an artist now. And I came up with some friends who aren’t the greatest, I’ll grant that, but they’re fun. My parents think I’ve gone insane. And my dad remembers Jordan Emerson. He was adamantly opposed to this stupid ‘find myself’ journey.”

Cheyenne could relate. It’s why she sought out Ethereal.

“Finding yourself is never stupid. Most people forget to even find themselves.” Cheyenne said softly.

Ethereal cried out in the distance.

Cheyenne lifted her head, but Ethereal was beyond her eyes.

Meloday was immune. She continued, “Anyway, yeah: I’m here for Jordan Emerson. Stupid, right? I mean he was gorgeous when I was here. He’s probably either married, totally out of my league, or he’s going to be one of those fat guys who’s married and has a dead-end job. It doesn’t matter, I guess.”

Ethereal called again. This time Cheyenne knew that she was in trouble. Something was wrong.

“I have to go.” Cheyenne started.

“What? Why?” Meloday hadn’t been overjoyed for Cheyenne’s company, but now she was frantic. “Where are you going?”

“I have to go.” Cheyenne said again.

Ethereal called again.

Meloday heard it this time. She looked out, “What was that?”

“I have to go.” And Cheyenne was going. She slid down the back, jumped off the porch railing, and hit the ground running. She didn’t have to go as slow this time. She knew the way back. It didn’t take as long, but she was running through the barn again, and instead of needing to circle back around the lawn, Cheyenne sprinted fullforce to the boulders. She jumped onto them and kept going, bypassing the more treacherous currents.

Ethereal whinnied, more desperately.

It took forever. The water had risen. Cheyenne was soaked head to toe, but she kept going.

If it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t have made it. They would’ve gotten swept back down, but Cheyenne knew where she was going. She was confident in her footing and her assurance kept her propelling forward.

And then, as she cleared a hill, Cheyenne saw Ethereal, stranded. She had tried to ford one of the streams and gotten stuck. The water was rising, slamming into her body, and she was fighting desperately to get free.

The stallion stood on his hindlegs, on sure footing, but stomped on all four when he saw Cheyenne clear the last boulder.

His eyes met hers.

Cheyenne had always spoken with Ethereal, never to another mare, much less the starred stallion.

In that moment, both creatures saw each other, desperately.

Cheyenne didn’t think. She just acted and she leapt from her boulder onto his back.

The stallion barely reacted before Cheyenne dug in her heels and directed his neck to her home.

She needed help and he was the fastest, strongest horse, to get her there.

The stallion considered fighting, but Ethereal cried out and he kicked into the ground, sent them flying.

The two covered the distance in half the time it would’ve taken Ethereal and Cheyenne. And that was with a first ride. Cheyenne would’ve been amazed at how fast the ride would’ve taken if the stallion was as connected to Cheyenne as Ethereal, but they were nearing her home within moments.

The stallion braked abruptly when he came upon Jordan’s sandbags.

Cheyenne leapt off and clambered over. She sprinted the rest of the way and yelled out, “Jordan!”

The land was completely bare. It had been saved from the streams, but Cheyenne knew that would’ve happened.

“Jordan!” She screamed again, her heart pounding. She cleared the last fence and ran full-force to his house.

She couldn’t stop to think. Ethereal was in trouble and Cheyenne needed to help her. That’s all that was going through Cheyenne. And she never stopped to consider the ramifications of her next action, but she had no other choice. She had no one else to go to and then Jordan was there, blue jeans and no shirt, barefoot.

“What?” Jordan snapped out, his hair was messed.

He took one look at Cheyenne, saw the desperation evident in her haunted eyes, and immediately threw on some clothes.

“Jordan?” Kindley Montague sat up on the bed, the bedsheets wrapped around her naked body. “Where are you going?”

Cheyenne appeared in the doorway.

Kindley gasped.

“Where?” Jordan barked out as he grabbed some boots.

“North of the Mulrights old farm.”

“What?!” Jordan sent loose a few curses. “This is that horse?”

“She was coming for me. She wanted to be with me, but I was helping someone else. It’s my fault.” Cheyenne said numbly.

Jordan grabbed some keys and strolled out the door.

When Cheyenne didn’t follow him to the truck, he turned and exclaimed, “What are you doing?!”

“I have another way to get there. It’s faster, but he’ll only carry me.” Cheyenne heard the stallion call out and looked towards him, in the distance.

Jordan heard it too, but didn’t say anything.

“Take some ropes.” Jordan said instead and slammed into his truck. It would have to ford the streams. He’d have to take the better roads. The shortcuts would be demolished from the water, but he’d get there.

The water had risen by the time Cheyenne arrived. She jumped from the stallion’s back and immediately tied one rope to the boulder and then led it around Ethereal’s back. It would be used as a harness behind her, to help move her out. Cheyenne had secured a second rope when she heard Jordan’s truck turn onto the Mulrights’ driveway.

The truck was large enough and sturdy enough to drive up the embankment. Jordan parked it a little distance away and climbed out, wary, as he watched the stallion and took in Ethereal’s predicament.

The stallion reared back and flayed his front legs. Jordan stopped and retreated to the truck.

“You rode him?” Jordan cursed and called out. “Get him away from here. He’s not going to help.”

Cheyenne glanced from the stallion to Ethereal, but Jordan penetrated the near blinding desperation.

“Cheyenne!” Jordan snapped. “Get him away. He won’t let me come closer and I can’t help if I don’t.”

Ethereal met her eyes, wild. The mare’s struggles had started to cease.

“No.” Cheyenne whimpered.

Ethereal was starting to give up.

“No.” She whispered again.

“Cheyenne!” Jordan yelled.

And then everything snapped back into place.

Cheyenne turned and leapt onto the stallion’s back. She kicked him in the side and he took off.

Far enough away, she jumped back off and turned back to sprint down.

The stallion reined to a stop and danced on his hooves.

He stood on a cliff while Cheyenne ignored him and ran for her companion.

By the time she arrived again, Jordan had extended the ropes and attached them to the back of his truck.

Ethereal jumped every time he approached and she got further wedged in the mud and water.

“Stop.” Cheyenne whispered as she met Ethereal’s eyes.

Jordan paused once and took in the scene. Cheyenne was connected to the animal. He saw that and he knew the mare was a Mustang. The stallion was a Mustang and for some reason, Cheyenne was allowed beside them.

It mystified reason and reality, but the proof was in front of him.

Then the mare whinnied again. Not to him, never to him, but to Cheyenne. Jordan saw that it was ripping Cheyenne apart. She might lose someone who she loved, possibly, more than anyone else.

“Can you use the ropes to get on her back?” Jordan asked. Everything was ready.

He was soaked, but he didn’t feel it.

Cheyenne needed him. And he needed that. For some reason, Jordan felt more alive in that moment, in the moment that she’d screamed his name and burst into his house, than he ever had before.

Cheyenne met his eyes, jerkily.

“Can you get on her? You can help guide her out of the water. I’m going to start the truck and pull her from behind. Can you do that?” Jordan asked, now patient and calm.

She nodded. Her braid had loosened. A strand brushed against her wet cheek, but her eyes were worried and pure pewter as she looked back to Ethereal.

“Cheyenne.” Jordan said softly and moved to her side. He brushed the strand back and tucked it behind her ear. “She’s going to be fine.”

Cheyenne nodded, choked with emotion, and then she left his side to enter the waters.

Jordan watched, amazed, as she held onto the ropes and then simply climbed onto the Mustang’s back.

The mare calmed when Cheyenne sat upon her.

Breath left Jordan for a moment, just a moment.

And then as Cheyenne bent and molded to the mare, he knew that Cheyenne had done that so many times, she became one with the horse.

It was magic and it was something he couldn’t understand.

And then Cheyenne cried out, “Let’s go! She’s getting deeper.”

Jordan darted for the truck, started it, and started to inch forward.

He watched anxiously in the rearview mirror. Everytime the mare started to panic, Cheyenne was there, murmuring in her ear and soothing Ethereal with her hands. Everytime Jordan felt the truck stop as the mare sunk back down, Cheyenne seemed to whisper to the horse to keep going. And she did.

It wasn’t long, but the moment would be remembered forever.

Jordan felt the truck jerk free when the mare had broken free from the mud’s hold.

And then the horse clambered for sturdy ground.

It was the same vision that Jordan had seen from before.

Horse and rider arose out of nowhere, seemingly. With Cheyenne’s soaked golden hair and haunted silver eyes, she perfected the unearthly image with the white mare.

It left Jordan slightly uneasy, as if he needed to remind himself that Cheyenne was real and that the image was right there in front of him, standing and living.

When the mare turned to sprint away, Jordan hurried out of his truck and yelled, “Cheyenne! No!”

She contained Ethereal and both waited on dancing hooves.

“You need to come home. You’re soaked and you’re going to get sick!” Jordan yelled again. “Let’s go!”

“I need to be with her—” Cheyenne started.

Jordan interrupted her, harshly, “No! You’re not an animal, Cheyenne. You have to get warm or you’re going to get really sick. Let’s go. She’s going to be fine. She’ll leave when you get in the truck. Come on.”

Cheyenne knew he was right. She did need warmth that a soaked horse couldn’t give her.

Reluctantly, with a final brush of her hands, Cheyenne slipped off the horse and climbed into the truck.

Ethereal stood tall and regal. She waited as Jordan drove down the embankment. And when they had disappeared from her sight, she snorted, jerked her strong neck backwards, and ran to meet the rest of her herd.

Ethereal ran for her family while Cheyenne left with Jordan.

They drove down the embankment, slowly. Cheyenne murmured, “Wait. There are some people stranded here.”

“They got rescued.” Jordan said. “I saw a truck leave with them when I drove through. They’re fine.”

Cheyenne settled back and wondered, briefly, if they’d gotten the dog.

Jordan cursed, glanced sideways to Cheyenne, and flipped on the heat full-blare.

They rode in silence. When Jordan turned onto his driveway, Cheyenne said clearly, “You can’t tell anyone.”

Jordan cast a look to her and said, quietly, “I won’t.”

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