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  MySoultoKeep

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  My Soul to Keep

  Copyright © 2009 Dianna Hunter

  ISBN: 978-1-55487-283-1

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  My Soul to Keep

  By

  Dianna Hunter

  Dedication

  To Emory for his infinite patience and trust - and to those who came before who taught me his true value.

  MySoultoKeep

  Chapter One

  Furious with her mother, again, Kayla was hurriedly saddling her horse, Shadow Hawk, to make her escape. Soon, if her mother had her way, and she always did, even this pleasure would be denied her!

  “Oh I wish Gram would answer my calls,” she moaned to Shadow Hawk. “She wouldn’t let Mom get rid of you.” Pulling herself into the saddle, she aimed the colt onto the trail that would take them through the orange groves and away from the rambling old house that she’d called home for such a short time,

  “It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have been showing you off like that,” she wailed softly in Hawk’s ear.

  The young stallion twitched his sensitive ears to hear her better and nickered questioningly.

  “It’s just that, sometimes, it’s so hard to always be the new girl in town, and I just couldn’t help myself!” Out of desperate loneliness, Kayla had decided to join some of the other horse-crazy teenagers in the neighborhood at the local riding arena. And of course, Hawk had instantly attracted the attention of everyone there. At eighteen hands, he easily towered over the other horses, even Shelly Hoffman’s big bay thoroughbred. Hawk was silvery-grey with black stockings, a heavy black mane and tail so long that it dragged on the ground. His long, slender legs allowed him to move with a fluid rhythm that made him appear to dance above the ground. When she looked into those beautiful brown eyes set so wide apart in his delicate, dished face, Kayla knew that he was the most intelligent animal that ever lived.

  Beside Hawk, all other horses seemed small and awkward. Kayla had no idea where Gram had gotten him. She’d just arrived, seemingly out of nowhere as usual, on Kayla’s eighteenth birthday with the young horse in a trailer towed behind her big, black Lincoln. Her mother, much to Kayla’s secret delight, was livid about the gift and her younger brother and sister were green with envy!

  A heated discussion behind closed doors had ensued between her mother and grandmother, but she couldn’t quite overhear all of it no matter how hard she strained her ears. All she’d been able to make out was something about how “Kayla has already been deprived of so much of her heritage,” and “Julia, you cannot keep her from learning the truth much longer,” and “you will pay a heavy price then!”

  What she’d heard confused Kayla. What “heritage” and what “truth” were they talking about? But she’d quickly forgotten about the odd remarks when the outcome of the argument had been that she got to keep Shadow Hawk.

  As they made their way along the trail, Kayla patted Hawk’s neck and told him, “Besides, I can’t say I’m sorry for wanting to show you off just a little after that snot-faced Shelly called you a mongrel!”

  * * * *

  The Hoffman girl had been quick to insult the unusual grey horse the new girl rode. Laughing, she’d ridden off on her coarse-headed hack to circle the ring before returning to take the jumps that had been setup in the center of the arena. Her horse had taken them easily enough only clipping the top rail of the final obstacle and sent it clattering to the ground.

  Seeing the smirk on Kayla’s face, Shelly had boldly challenged her to do better.

  Eyeing the series of wooden fences that ranged in height from an easy two feet to a more challenging four, she laughed in the girl’s smug face. “Those are fine for the little kids on their ponies! Now, let me show you what a real horse can do,” she sneered. With total confidence, she rode to the side of the arena and gave instructions to the boys to raise the hurdles each two feet higher than they were.

  She was bringing Hawk around to begin a warm-up circle of the ring when Jason Kincaid stopped her.

  “Hey, Kayla, wait. You shouldn’t let a jealous snot like Shelly push you into trying something that could get you or your horse hurt.” He took this opportunity to run his hand up Hawk’s slick neck and to study the big, grey stallion up close. “I’ve got to say, he is the most beautiful and, uh, unusual looking horse I’ve ever seen.”

  “Thanks for caring, Jason, but we can make it. Really!” she assured him with a smile.

  Jason was definitely the finest-looking guy in the whole senior class, a real fox. Shelly had been openly pursuing him for months, and he’d refused to have anything to do with her. That he had even spoken to Kayla would make her the envy of every girl in school when they heard. And with the way people gossiped in this town, she knew it wouldn’t take long before they all heard. Shelly would be green with jealousy.

  Thoroughly pleased with herself, Kayla took Hawk in a gentle lope around the ring before bringing him into position for the jumps. A quick look back to see who might be watching showed her that a good-sized group had gathered along one side of the arena, climbing the wooden rails to see better. Leaning forward in her seat, Kayla released the tight reins she’d been keeping on the prancing young stallion.

  Taking advantage of his sudden freedom, Hawk reared, pawing at the air and shaking his head. His long, black mane tumbling backward, nearly obscuring Kayla’s vision. With his neck arched to show off for any mare who might be watching, he returned to earth and began an easy cantor toward the hurdles.

  Without breaking stride, the giant stallion took each one, effortlessly sailing clear with the grace and coordination a ballet dancer would envy.

  To the accompaniment of cheers and applause, Kayla brought him to stand, prancing in place in front of their admiring audience. As if on cue, Hawk tucked and lowered his head in a bow, and then, deciding to add his own flourish, he once more raised high on his rear legs and let loose the trumpeting challenge one stallion issues to another.

  “Showoff,” she whispered into his ear. If a horse could have grinned, his would’ve been as broad as the one Kayla wore on her own flushed face.

  An ear-splitting scream suddenly rent the air.

  A loud whinny and another scream drew everyone’s attention to the outside of the arena where Shelly was trying vainly to bring her frightened gelding under control. They all watched helplessly as he bucked high and hard.

  Shrieking, Shelly released her hold on the reins and grabbed at the horse’s mane to keep from being thrown. Taking the bit in his teeth, the gelding bolted, heading through the open gate and down the short lane that too quickly would join the main highway with its heavy weekend traffic.

  Without a second thought
, Kayla drove her heels into Hawk’s sides and leaned down along his neck to whisper to him.

  At her encouragement, the stallion exploded into a full gallop. Taking the arena’s tall fence in an easy leap, he quickly drew even with Shelly’s panic-stricken mount. Kayla leaned off the side of her saddle and caught the dragging reins. Drawing Hawk up to a trot, she began turning the lathered bay in a series of ever-smaller circles until he had slowed to a bouncy walk beside her.

  So quickly had this happened that some people swore that they never actually saw the big grey horse running, just a dark blur, and the runaway horse with his hysterical, sobbing rider being ponied back to the arena at his side.

  Too late, Kayla realized how much attention she had drawn to herself and Hawk. She had quietly disappeared from the arena while everyone was busy fussing over Shelly.

  All the way back to her barn, Kayla had reprimanded herself. She’d known, even without Gram’s warning, to keep a low profile. She knew that Hawk was only similar to other horses. And that, in truth, he was something very different. But of course so was she and that was the real reason her family had moved around so much. She was also sure that it was the reason for the feud between her mother and grandmother.

  * * * *

  Her mother and stepfather had always refused to discuss what made her different from the other children and even from her own younger brother and sister. When she’d been very young, her mother had constantly reprimanded her for finishing other people’s sentences for them or addressing a stranger by name—before the introduction. And how many times had little Kayla been left feeling hurt and rejected by a visiting adult? They were always so eager to gather the pretty, little girl with her pale silver hair and exotic, slanted eyes of such a deep silvery-blue into their laps to cuddle and fuss over. But, then they would grow pale and set her down, sometimes looking at her a little strangely, as though she had offended them in some way.

  The first move that Kayla could remember came when she was only four. Momma had a new baby to keep her busy. Her sister Hannah was only a few weeks old, and she really wasn’t much fun. All she ever did was cry and sleep or make smelly messes. And everyone seemed much too busy for little Kayla. They even relaxed the close vigilance that, ‘til then, had curtailed her all-consuming curiosity.

  * * * *

  A natural leader and adventurer, Kayla was soon directing her playmates, five-year-old David and three-year-old Cindi, in an active game of make believe. The Johnson children lived two houses from Kayla and were easily led by the brighter and more aggressive little girl.

  It didn’t take long for her to become bored with their game of pirates and brandishing her sword, fashioned from a thin scrap of wood they’d retrieved from someone’s trash, at imaginary foes and unsuspecting shrubbery.

  Staring past the boundary of grass separating the sidewalk from the forbidden territory of the street, Kayla’s wandering eyes lit on the abandoned house across the street. The windows and doors covered with old boards, and she could see the cool green of grass and weeds struggling to escape between the slats of the rotting picket fence surrounding it. Her attention firmly centered on the gate hanging by its one-remaining hinge and the small gap it showed, Kayla banged her sword against the nearest tree trunk with a satisfying thwack.

  “Ahoy there, mates! I know where there be pirate’s treasure for the finding!” she declared to her faithful followers. Careful to check the street for oncoming cars, and the front window of her house for Momma, Kayla dashed across the street and slid her small body through the gap. The other two children protested weakly at this flagrant violation of rules, but still followed close at her heels.

  Skipping up to the house, Kayla ignored the securely boarded front door, and boldly swinging her sword at the tall grass surrounding them, she circled to the side of the old house.

  “Wonder why nobody lives here?” said David as he stomped his feet through the grass behind her.

  “Do you think there are snakes, Davie? I don’t like snakes too much,” piped little Cindi, snuffling her nose and rubbing her sleeve across her face.

  “I heard the babysitter say this old house was haunted, but I don’t care ‘cause I’m not ‘fraid of haunts!” Kayla informed them scornfully. She smacked her stick into some weeds that were blocking the steps leading to a side door that looked promising because of its lack of boards.

  Climbing the three wide steps, the children kicked with their scuffed canvas shoes at the layer of dead leaves that had gathered on them just to hear the dry rustling sound they made.

  “I’ll bet it’s locked,” volunteered David, “my mom says people are always supposed to keep their doors locked.” He placed his small shoulder against the lower door panel, shoved with all his might and was rewarded with a shower of paint chips and dirt for his efforts.

  Not to be so easily discouraged, Kayla reached both hands up over her head and grasped the knob. Grunting loudly, she put all her strength into turning it and heard the grating click of the bolt sliding back into the door.

  “I did it!” she exclaimed in a loud stage whisper. Leaning her small body into the reluctant door, she called to the others, “Come on! Help me!”

  Shuffling noisily through the old leaves, they joined her adding their weight and much grunting and groaning to hers. With a screech of rusty hinges, the door finally gave way. The door slammed back against the interior wall with a resounding thud and dropped the children flat on their faces in the carpeting of old leaves. Amongst much rustling and grumbling, the three children untangled sprawled limbs and picked themselves up from the floor.

  “I’m scared. I wanna go home!” Cindi whined and began crying.

  “Don’t be such a cry baby! I’m not scared. Are you scared, Davie?” Kayla demanded.

  Pushing past the nervous, stuttering little boy before he could answer, she walked on into what must have once been a kitchen.

  Reassured by the sunlight pouring through a series of dirty windows on one side of the room, David gathered his courage and what was left of his little-boy’s ego and stomped after her. “Nope. I ain’t never scared,” he declared as he hurried to catch his more adventurous playmate before she could disappear completely from his sight in the shadowy hallway of the house.

  The first two doors opened into rooms filled only with dirt and cobwebs, as did the third. Bored and ready to give up this game, Kayla pushed open the last door opening off the dank hallway.

  As it swung slowly back, the other children crowded close behind her to peer over her shoulder. “Wow!” gasped all three.

  Eyes wide with curiosity, they let their feet carry them into the suddenly large room to stare at the odd paintings that covered three of the four walls. Each of the monstrous paintings depicted scenes of hard-faced men bearing guns and other weapons hunting and gruesomely killing an exotic menagerie of frightened animals.

  Their indrawn breaths fractured the deathly silence as they each focused their eyes on the far wall. The huge fireplace in its center was dwarfed by the snarling countenance of ferocious lions, soft-eyed deer and other animals they did not recognize, all staring down at them. Hypnotized by those sad eyes, the children didn’t even notice the slender fingers of mist creeping across the floor toward them.

  The spell was shattered when the whole house vibrated with the sound of a door slamming.

  Shrieking, the children clutched each other tightly, all pretense of bravery gone.

  “Wh-what-t was th-that,” stuttered David.

  “Sh-sh-shh!” Kayla clamped her hands over Cindi’s mouth to muffle her crying.

  Shuffle! Clump! Shuffle! Bang! The heavy steps stalking the hallway grew closer.

  This time, Kayla clamped her hands over her own mouth. She and Cindi threw themselves at a quaking David and muffled their screams in his shirt.

  And still the shuffling grew louder.

  “Hide!” hissed Davie in a hoarse voice. “We gotta to hide!”

  The sound of a
tin can being kicked into a wall was more than Cindi could handle. In terrified silence, she broke away from the grasping hands of the other children and ran into the hall.

  “Cindi!” David gasped and dashed after his little sister.

  “No! Don’t leave me!” hissed Kayla. The sound of muffled screams from David and Cindi brought images to Kayla’s already over-stimulated imagination of ghostly hunters taking revenge on her friends and herself for this invasion. Spurred into action by fear, Kayla shoved the door to the hall closed and bolted deeper into the dusty, haze-filled room before her.

  Panting and out of breath, she darted behind a rough, brown post and turned to look back. Stunned, she froze in place and peered about her suspiciously for the room of paintings and animals had been replaced by trees and bushes covered in bright flowers.

  Stepping away from the small tree trunk she was hiding behind, she stared at the lush garden surrounding her. “Wow, how did I get here?” she gasped as she continued to study the plants and colors. Nothing looked quite right, like when she didn’t know her colors too well and would color everything wrong.

  “Trees aren’t supposed to be orange and purple!” she whispered scornfully as she stared in wonder at the feathery leaves waving gently in the breeze. And she had never seen such big flowers! Cautiously, she sidled up to one of the odd purple bushes and reached a hand toward the pretty, white petals. The blossom leapt the last several inches and closed on her small hand. She could feel its velvety softness sucking greedily at her fingers before she could snatch it away.

  “Hey! That’s not nice!” she reprimanded the plant. Sniffling and trying very hard not to cry, Kayla held the offended hand behind her back and watched the flower for awhile. But when the quivering blossom made no further effort to reach for her, the little girl’s attention strayed, and she was soon wandering down the winding path in search of the birds she could hear singing.