Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Heather Brooks loves horses and the outdoors. She says that nothing can compare to galloping free over open range--except maybe writing a perfect sentence. She has been riding all her life, and especially enjoys eventing (a sport that includes cross country, show jumping, and dressage). Heather is also passionate about equine rescue, and many of the equine characters in the Running Horse Ridge books are inspired by real rescued horses.

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Home is where your horse is

Emily Summers does not want to go to Oregon. Why would she want to leave her friends and Rhapsody, her perfect dressage horse, to move to a horse rescue ranch all the way across the country?

Then Emily discovers that at Running Horse Ridge, she'll be living her dream of riding and caring for horses 24/7, and after she meets the roguish black stallion named Sapphire, she feels she's found a true friend. There's just one catch: Sapphire is at Running Horse Ridge to be retrained and sold. Has Emily met the horse of her dreams only to lose him?

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Running Horse Ridge #1: Sapphire: New Horizons

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Chapter One

Emily Summers's dad slammed on his brakes and sent her chocolate milk shake spraying all over her favorite pair of jeans. "Dad!"

"Would you rather I hit a horse?" he said, nodding toward the road.

Emily snapped her gaze off her messy jeans just in time to see a gorgeous dark horse skid to a stop in front of the car, his ears back and his teeth bared, as if to challenge the car to a one-on-one battle. He had a glossy black coat and a white blaze down the middle of his face. "He looks like Rhapsody!"

Rhapsody was the horse Emily leased back home in New Jersey. He was the best dressage horse in the barn, and everyone was predicting that he and Emily would be the stars of the Norfolk Open this weekend. Then Emily's grandfather had died suddenly, forcing this trip all the way out to Oregon for his funeral. She'd never met her grandfather, barely even heard of him, and she'd been really upset at first to find out she'd have to miss the show.

Emily had almost asked her dad if he would mind going alone and let her stay with a friend so she could ride Rhapsody. But when her dad had said how much he wanted her with him at the funeral and reminded her that they'd be staying at the horse sanctuary his family had been running for almost seventy-five years, she knew she had to make this trip.

Emily's dad, Scott Summers, hadn't been back to his family farm since Emily's mom had died when Emily was two. He had never talked much about his past, and Emily was curious if he felt weird going home under such sad circumstances after being away for so long. But the few times she'd started to ask him, he'd changed the subject.

Which was okay. She wasn't really sure she wantedto know. It was unsettling to think about her dad being upset. But ever since they'd gotten off the plane, he'd been fiddling with his watch and messing with the dials on the radio constantly. She could tell he was stressed, and it had been making her nervous . . . until the big black horse had jumped in front of their car.

Emily threw open the passenger door and leaped out onto the dirt road, her white tennies sinking into the mud with a squish. It felt like her feet were getting sucked into the mushy ground, like some swamp monster had grabbed her and was going to pull her into the black ooze seeping up around her shoes.

Then the horse snorted, and she forgot about her feet. "Hey, beautiful. Whatchya doing running around out here?"

One ear flicked forward and the horse lifted his head, looking at her with dark, shiny eyes. He was streaked with sweat, dozens of tiny scratches on his chest were bleeding, and his leather halter was muddy. His nostrils flared as he sucked in a noisy breath, scenting Emily to identify her as friend or foe. He was well muscled and well fed, his body rounded out and shiny. His black mane flopped in all directions, and his thick forelock hung on his forehead. His coat was so black that he reminded her of the darkest night.

"Now, Emily, be careful. You don't know this horse," her dad warned as he opened his door and climbed out.

She ignored him and took a step toward the horse, sucking her foot out of the mud with a sloppy slurp. She held her hand out to him as she eased forward. "I bet you escaped from somewhere, didn't you?" she crooned. "You're too pretty to be allowed to run out in front of cars."

The horse's other ear went forward, and he watched Emily intently as she approached.

She felt a wave of homesickness. This horse reminded her so much of Rhapsody, with his shiny black coat and beautiful brown eyes. She was sure that Jenny Smith was going to find a way to ride Rhapsody in the Norfolk Open. It wouldn't be Rhapsody's fault if he had to be ridden by Jenny, but the thought made Emily's stomach clench. Rhapsody was owned by Alice Jenkins, and though Alice always said that if Rhapsody were sold to anybody it would Emily, there was always the chance Jenny would be able to talk Alice into selling Rhapsody to her instead. Emily's dad had promised to ask Alice about buying Rhapsody when they got back home because Alice had been hinting lately she might be ready to sell him. If Jenny got him first . . .

The stray horse lowered his head to let her pat him, snuffling softly against her belly. She grinned at her dad and kissed the horse's muddy forehead. "He loves me." She caught a faint whiff of pine shavings and knew he'd recently been lying in his stall. She pressed her face to his cheek, inhaling the fresh scent she loved, rubbing her skin against his velvet soft hair.

Her dad chuckled. "Actually, he's licking the milk shake off your pants."

Emily looked down and started laughing at the horse using his upper lip to scrape the ice cream off her jeans. "He likes chocolate!"

"Please grab his halter," said a girl's voice.

At the softly spoken request, Emily glanced over her right shoulder to see a girl about her age sitting on a dappled gray mare. She had apparently just ridden up the road behind the car. The girl was wearing leather chaps, an old T-shirt, and a riding helmet, and her horse was breathing hard, her neck streaked with sweat. "His halter," the girl repeated softly, so as not to scare the black horse. "Grab it so he doesn't run away again."

"Right." Emily wrapped her hand around the horse's halter. "Do you have a lead shank?"

Excerpted from Running Horse Ridge #1: Sapphire: New Horizonsby Heather Brooks Copyright © 2009 by Heather Brooks. Excerpted by permission.
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