End of Chapter 6:

"You know, Henry, I don't like to complain, but why did I get this old beat-up horse to ride? If danger does arise on our outing, I'll be the first one eaten."

Henry let out a deep resounding laugh that seemed to come from within his very soul. His eyes sparkled with merriment.

"Don't let old Buck fool you. He may not be much to look at, but he's the most dependable mount out here."

"Shouldn't one of the kids be riding him, then? I've ridden before. One of the foster homes I lived in had a riding school."

"Good, then you can handle him when he gets fired up."

Nara looked at the old horse, her eyebrow raised in doubt. Seeming to sense her thoughts, in the manner most horses do, Buck shook his head and gave a half-hearted snort.

"Fired up?" she said. "I'll be lucky if he makes it back to the barn without having a heart attack."

Chapter 7 Begins:

Henry smiled, and urged his horse forward. Nara responded in kind. The reluctant old gelding trotted a few steps, apparently more to keep up with the other horse than in deference to Nara's appeal.

"Is Buck really his name?" Nara asked, pointing to the old boy.

"It is now. Harry named him Lightning when he was a foal, but he's sort of outgrown the name."

"Outgrown?"

"Maybe outlived."

"Yeah," Nara said. She smiled and patted the aging equine on the neck. "He seems sweet enough. I think he's growing on me."

"Good. We really wanted you to enjoy yourself today."

Nara nodded and Henry smiled, and then they fell silent as they traveled on.

Prairie grass, with its tangled brush, slowly gave way to twisted Mesquite trees and brushy undergrowth. Nara batted away several thorny branches as her horse picked his way through a path that was becoming less defined by the moment.

"Is this the Oasis?" Nara asked Henry. One particularly large branch had just left a bloody trail across her arm, and she was fighting another.

Henry chuckled and rode up beside her. He reached a long muscular arm across her and snapped the offending branch.

"Not oasis-like to you?" he asked.

"To be honest, I've never been to one before, but this wouldn't be my vision of it. I'm sure your brother, Hank, could have his students paint lovely landscapes out here, or Riley could add it into one of his tall tales, but it's about to eat me alive."

"Careful of your words, Darling," Henry said. He graced her with a quick wink, "but to answer your question, no, this isn't the Oasis. It's sort of the lounge area outside it. Mesquite trees don't need much moisture to grow. They live off overflow when the lake breaches its bank."

"How often does that happen?" Nara raised an eyebrow.

"About two or three times a year. We do get rain here sometimes, in spite of how it might seem."

"And it's an event to behold," triplet brother, Harry, added. He was still close enough to the pair to add comments when the opportunity presented itself. "It's simply soul-stirring. You can watch the storm brewing across the prairie like life's great theater. Huge, dark clouds billow up in majestic anger, and lightning streaks across the sky with unimaginable power."

"Says the brother they call Zeus," Nara said. "I'm guessing storms are your thing."

"Meterology," Harry corrected. "It's part of my science class. I devote a whole unit to teaching kids to forecast weather. They love it, especially when a storm they predict materializes."

"I can see why they would like that."

"You know," Harry continued. "Out here, the locals call the sort of lightning that streaks, stake-rope lightning. I've never heard it called that anywhere else."

"Stake-rope?" Nara asked. "What's that?"

"You know, like the rope you stake horses out on to let them graze," Harry explained.

"I see," Nara said, though she wasn't sure she really did.

"I'll show you back at the ranch," Henry said, interrupting and regaining Nara's attention. "Look, we're getting closer to the Oasis. Notice how the trees are switching to pecan and oak? Soon we'll get to the Willows. They need constant moisture from the creek and lake to survive."

"Is that where we'll find the beautiful flowers and green foliage?'

"Parts of the year," Henry said. "Right now there's just a lot of lily pads. It's definitely green, though."

"Definitely green," Harry echoed.

"I look forward to seeing it."

Harry and Henry nodded in synchrony. Together, as well, they turned to face the patchy path ahead. And together, their heads jerked at the sound of twigs cracking ahead of them on the trail.

"Is that Riley?" Nara asked.

Riley reined his horse back to join them, a look on his face that answered her question. He had heard the sound as well.

Another crackle to the left had the horses snorting. Two more on the right... the horses stomped.

Nara turned as the third triplet, Hank, pushed forward with his students. His large black stallion pranced and pawed the ground.

"What do you think, Riley?" Hank asked. His blue eyes had turned dark, and his face clouded with concern.

"It could be anything," the old man replied.

"You said there might be large cats on the prowl," Nara reminded him. "Is that what's out there?"

"I don't know. I mean, it could be."

"You said there were cat prints by the lake," Nara said.

"I always say that," Riley said. "It adds to the excitement."

"But it's definitely something big," Hank said, "and it's not alone."

Another snap of twigs in the front, a growl to the right.

"Turn the horses around and run," Riley said. "Get the kids out of here."

"Run?" Nara said. "We can barely walk through this mess."

Henry took off his hat and swatted Nara's horse on its bottom.

"Get her out of here, Lightning."

The old horse threw his head up, his nostrils flaring out in anger. Ten years fell off his countenance, as he became alert and aware. Old flabby muscles tightened and bunched. He jerked his head forward, and sprang to the left off the path. An unnerving cat cry followed in their wake.

"What about the kids?" Nara cried. "Buck, Lightning, whatever your name is, take me back."

The old horse shook his shaggy head and ran. Nara grabbed onto the horse's mane as he tore through the trees and underbrush with the ease of a John Deere tractor and the speed of a thoroughbred. She clung on for dear life as he took her farther and farther away from the others.