Chapter 1
San
Joaquin Valley, California, Early Spring 1884
I used
to look forward to letters, especially from kinfolk we don’t see very often. Not
anymore. Any letter in a cream envelope makes my heart skip, and not with glad
anticipation.
“Look at
this, Melinda!” Andrea Carter stepped out of the Fresno post office waving a
cream-colored envelope. “A letter with a New York postmark.” She held it up, squinting
against the noonday sun. Mail for the Circle C ranch did not often include
letters from clear across the country. “It must be from Aunt Lydia.”
“Maybe it’s not,” Melinda
said, holding out her hand. “Other people live in New York City too.”
Andi kept the letter just out
of her sister’s reach and pointed to the upper left-hand corner. “The return
address says ‘Carter.’ Who else could it be from?”
“Aunt Rebecca,” Melinda
teased.
Andi groaned. Their
fussbudget aunt had left California right after Christmas to spend the rest of
the winter with her brother’s family in New York. It would be just like her to interfere
from afar and send long-distance promptings for proper behavior.
“Perhaps Rebecca is writing
to persuade Mother to send you back East for a visit. An early birthday gift?”
Melinda’s face turned dreamy. “Aunt Rebecca took me to New York for my sixteenth birthday. It was a whirlwind of delight.”
Andi’s heart sank clear to
her toes. I’d rather go on another cattle drive.
She kept that unladylike
thought to herself and regarded the envelope with suspicion. The excitement of
getting news from family back East lost its appeal. She only half-listened while
Melinda prattled on about shopping for fashions fresh from Paris, dining in
fancy restaurants, and attending a concert by the New York Philharmonic
orchestra.
The other half of Andi’s
mind whirled with anxiety. For reasons known only to God and Aunt Rebecca,
Father’s older sister took particular interest in her youngest niece’s
introduction into polite society. She badgered Mother constantly about Andi’s lack
of decorum and improper attire.
“It’s high time that
girl’s skirts were let down and her hair pinned up,” Rebecca had declared on
Christmas Day. Her holiday visit was filled with similar decrees, to which
Mother simply replied, “We’ll see.”
Andi was grateful that her
mother had so far managed to keep Aunt Rebecca at bay. But in two short months
Andi would turn sixteen. It was possible Mother might agree to expand Andi’s horizons,
and off she’d go—even if she balked—to New York or one of the other Atlantic
states with Aunt Rebecca. Or worse, to the European continent.
Andi slumped and handed
over the letter, as well as the rest of the mail. “You sure know how to dump
cold water all over me.”
Melinda’s blue eyes danced
with merriment. “Don’t look so glum, Andi. I was just kidding. This isn’t from Aunt
Rebecca. Her letters always come in lavender envelopes.”
Andi perked up. “In that
case . . .” She snatched the envelope back and hiked herself up
on Taffy. “Let’s see what Aunt Lydia has to say.”
Melinda gave Andi a little
shake of her head. “That’s not a good idea.”
“It’s addressed to the
Carter family. That’s us, Melinda. I want to make
sure it’s not from Aunt Rebecca. She could have borrowed stationery from Aunt Lydia.”
Melinda looked thoughtful.
“And if it’s from Rebecca?”
“Then I’ll rip it up.”
“You better not.” All
amusement faded from Melinda’s voice. She crossed her arms and gave Andi her grown-up,
I-know-better-than-you look. “Wait until we get home. Mother will read the
letter at supper.”
“For pity’s sake, Melinda!
What’s the matter with you lately? Aren’t you the least bit curious? Or has
being courted by Peter for so doggone long dulled your wits?”
At Melinda’s furious
glare, Andi reddened. That wasn’t very nice. Why do I always
blurt the first thing that comes to my mind?
Andi loved her sister, but
sometimes she could be maddening. Just last month, Peter Wilson had finally—after
two long years—gathered up his courage and asked for Melinda’s hand in
marriage. She should be giddy with joy, not sober as a spinster schoolmarm.
“Honestly, Melinda. If
having a beau and being courted means I have to turn serious and dull all the
time, then no thanks. No beau for me. Not ever.”
Melinda silently mounted
her sorrel horse, Panda. Her expression shouted louder than words: Stubborn little sister. Do what you like and see if I care! She
nudged Panda and took off down the street at a lope.
Andi knew Melinda really
did care. She was only trying to keep Andi out of trouble. Clutching the letter
from back East, Andi touched her heels to Taffy’s flank and caught up with
Melinda a mile out of town. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.” She held out the
letter that had cut a sudden rift between them. “I can wait. Here. Take it.”
Melinda shook her head.
“No, Andi, you’re right. Sometimes I do act like a cranky old aunt. I guess I’m
just a little nervous about planning the wedding and”—she took a sharp
breath—“leaving home.”
“You are?” Andi’s eyes
widened at this secret slice of Melinda’s heart. Leaving home did sound scary. She vowed right then to be nicer to
Melinda before she left home for good.
Melinda nodded. She grinned
an apology for her earlier bossiness. “The letter’s addressed to all of us.
Let’s hear what the folks have to say.”
Their relationship
restored, Andi smiled back.
She slowed her horse and
dropped the reins, giving Taffy her head. Before Melinda could change her mind
and get sensible again, Andi tore open the envelope and pulled out three pages
of onionskin. Lifting the delicate paper to her nose, she breathed in the faint
scent of lilac.
“It’s from Aunt Lydia, all
right,” she announced in relief. “I’d recognize that perfumed stationery
anywhere. And her writing isn’t spidery like Aunt Rebecca’s. It’s rows and rows
of perfect script.” She smoothed out the letter, relaxed in the saddle, and
read, “Dear Ones out West.”
She looked up. “See,
Melinda? She did write to all of us.”
“You’re just trying to soothe
your conscience.”
Andi laughed. “You bet I
am.” She took a breath and plunged into Lydia’s letter:
It’s been so long since
our last correspondence. Benjamin and I hope you are faring well. Thank you for
the Christmas gifts you sent by Rebecca’s hand. They were much appreciated, as
was the delightful news she brought concerning all of you. Justin and Lucy’s little
Samuel James sounds like such a blessing!
Andi paused. Aunt Lydia
was right about Sammy. He was a blessing—and the main
reason Andi had forgiven her oldest brother for marrying Lucy Hawkins a year
and a half ago.
The baby had just turned four
months old, and he had already wrapped his tiny hands and feet around Andi’s
heart. Best of all, Justin and Lucy seemed to spend more time out at the ranch
than they did at their house in town.
Rebecca seems so happy
since Katherine and the children moved in with her three years ago. I know she
misses them dreadfully and plans on returning to San Francisco before too long.
“I wonder if Kate and the kids miss her. I bet they’re having a fine time running Auntie’s mansion on their own.” Andi shook her head. “Our big sister has a lot more gumption than I. Living with Aunt Rebecca must take loads and loads of—”
“If you’re going to talk discourteously,
I’ll take the letter,” Melinda interrupted. She held out her hand.
Andi ignored her and kept
reading.
Which brings me to my
reason for writing. Benjamin and I are grateful for your understanding of the
concerns I expressed in my previous letter, and we humbly accept your gracious invitation
to take Daniel for an extended stay on the ranch. Traveling arrangements are
underway for Rebecca and Daniel to head West in the coming weeks.
Andi paused. A frown
furrowed her brow. She gave Melinda an accusing glare. “What’s all this? Have you
heard anything about our cousin staying on the ranch? I sure haven’t. I’m going
on sixteen, but still nobody tells me anything.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Mother
didn’t tell me, either.” Melinda bit her lip, a sure sign of her uneasiness.
“Go on,” she urged. “Read a little more. I prefer not to be caught unawares.
Daniel is . . .” She cleared her throat. “Never mind. Just
read.”
Andi skimmed the fine
script to find her place.
Benjamin insists that you be
fully aware of the situation with Daniel. We believe time away from the city
and its negative influences will greatly benefit our son, as well as give us
time to decide the best course of action regarding Daniel’s future. Working on
your ranch in the fresh, open air may well turn the boy around.
Andi looked up. “‘Turn the
boy around’? This is getting interesting.” When Melinda didn’t reply, she
eagerly continued.
Please understand,
Elizabeth. Daniel is a good boy, although perhaps a bit high-strung and
headstrong.
Andi’s heart skipped a
beat. Aunt Lydia’s letter had just turned a corner. It now sounded like a personal
plea to Mother. Andi suddenly felt like an eavesdropper, but she couldn’t keep
herself from learning more.
I was heartbroken when he was
expelled from Porter Academy last year, but Benjamin insisted it was nothing
more than an unfortunate misunderstanding. This latest string of schoolboy
pranks, however, has turned serious and resulted in Daniel’s expulsion from his
third school this year. Charges have also been brought over an alleged assault—
“Stop,” Melinda interrupted.
“I think you’ve read enough. Put it away.”
“Put it away? Why? I want to find out more about this cousin of
ours. Especially if he’s coming for a visit. I’ve never met him and—”
“You’ve met him,” Melinda
said. “We all did. At Father’s funeral a long time ago.”
Andi furrowed her brow,
but no childhood image came to mind. Father’s death all those years ago was
just a blur.
“I don’t think Aunt Lydia
intended this part of the letter for all our ears,” Melinda went on. “At least
not until Mother reads it first.”
Andi opened her mouth to
snap out a protest, but she clamped it shut at Melinda’s troubled look. It warned
that she knew something about Daniel—something she was unwilling to share just
now.
Andi sighed. She would
learn nothing by arguing. The harder Andi pushed, the tighter Melinda’s lips
would stay sealed. The only insight she’d gleaned was the sinking feeling that
inviting Daniel to stay on the Circle C ranch was probably not a good
idea.
Chapter 2
If only
every day could be like today. No school, riding Taffy, working with Shasta—and
with any other horse that comes my way. I know it’s hard work, but that’s all
right. A rancher’s life for me!
Scowling,
Andi stuffed the half-read letter back in the envelope and slapped it into Melinda’s
outstretched hand. She flung her long, dark braid behind her shoulder and slouched.
“I don’t see why I can’t finish the letter. We don’t know if Daniel’s coming
for sure. Or when he’s coming. We didn’t learn if he’s
traveling by train or by steamer or—”
“I’d prefer not to know
anything at all.” Melinda slipped the envelope inside her saddlebag. “You’ll
just have to wait until supper. Mother will probably read the letter then.”
“She didn’t read the previous
one to us,” Andi reminded her. “And even if she does, I bet she leaves out all
the interesting things.” Being the youngest was a difficult cross to bear. Her
three brothers and older sister were grown up, and now Melinda had joined their
ranks.
Andi nudged Taffy into a
trot. Why did Melinda look so anxious when she heard Daniel might be staying on
the ranch? So what if he’d been expelled from school? Hadn’t Andi endured the
same fate a few short years ago?
Maybe the superintendent and
teachers held a grudge against Daniel, the same way Mr. Foster, Andi’s
schoolmaster, had once held a grudge against her. True, she should not have run
him down during that silly horse race with Cory, but the man could have been
more forgiving.
And I
suppose knocking Virginia Foster to the ground could be called assault.
Andi brightened. She and
Daniel may not be so very different, after all. Perhaps her sister was
overreacting—as usual.
Andi chuckled. She’d
outgrown knocking schoolmates to the ground long ago. She and Mr. Foster had
mended their fences and were on excellent terms. Still, Andi had no regrets
that this was her last year in school. Most of her friends had left the
classroom after the eighth grade, but Mother insisted Andi attend until she turned
sixteen.
Andi was counting down the
days.
“What’s so funny?” Melinda
asked.
“It sounds like Daniel and
school don’t get along. I can certainly understand how he feels. I’m thinking he
and I might have a few things in common.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.
You haven’t been in trouble in school since you were a child. Daniel’s nearly
grown, and it appears he’s still in
trouble.”
Melinda had a point.
However, how well did her sister know Daniel, anyway? Andi shrugged. Leave it
to Melinda to fuss over a cousin she hadn’t seen since he was a little boy. “You
look so gloomy all of a sudden.” She grinned. “Let’s race back to the ranch.”
Melinda shook her head. “I
don’t want to arrive home breathless, with my hair mussed. Go on without me. I
have a lot to think about.”
“Imagine that! Your head
is full of your beloved Peter—”
“You’re wrong,” Melinda cut
in sharply. “I’m not thinking about Peter just now. Daniel is on my mind. You
were too young to remember him, but I do.”
“That’s silly,” Andi said.
“You can poke along and fret to your heart’s content. I’m going to race the
wind. C’mon, Taffy. Let’s go!”
When Melinda had shrunk to
a small, black dot far behind, Andi left the road and cut across the open fields.
Alone at last, she dug her heels into Taffy’s sides and whooped her delight. No
matter what age she turned—even if she grew as old as Aunt Rebecca—she would
never lose the thrill of racing at breakneck speed across acres and acres of empty
rangeland.
“We better ride while we
can,” she told Taffy when they slowed for a short rest near a stand of oak
trees. Not far away, hundreds of cattle grazed, their new calves frisking
beside them. “If Aunt Rebecca ends up visiting again, she’ll watch my every
move like a cat watches a mouse hole. ‘Ladies never ride astride, my dear,’”
she mimicked in a high, demanding voice. “‘Proper ladies ride in a carriage.’”
Taffy snorted her
impatience to be off, and Andi obliged her.
Spring had arrived in all
its glory on the Circle C ranch. The orchards were bursting with pink and
white blossoms. Wild poppies dotted the hills, and a sheen of green covered the
range. It wouldn’t last long, but for now the streams and rivers overflowed
with icy runoff from the Sierra Nevada, whose jagged peaks rose in the distance.
By the time Andi arrived
at her favorite spot on the ranch, both she and Taffy were sweating. She slid
from her mount and splashed cold creek water against her flushed face. Then she
threw herself down on the grassy carpet and stared up at the sky. How often through
the years had she come here to be alone?
“Hundreds of times,” she murmured the answer. “Usually when I’m mad or in
trouble with Chad.” But lately she’d begun coming here
just for fun or to think—and not because she was running away from her older brother’s
bossing.
Andi stretched, closed her
eyes, and wondered what it would be like to have Daniel staying on the ranch
for the summer. Her young nephew, Levi, had spent last spring and summer on the
Circle C. The two of them had grown close during the three-week cattle
drive to Los Angeles, but Chad and Mitch had kept Levi busy with ranch work the
rest of the season.
“Do you suppose Daniel can
ride?” she asked Taffy. She grinned at the thought of having someone to race
against.
Then reality struck. If her
brothers had put twelve-year-old Levi to work last year, they’d surely do the
same with a nearly grown Daniel. “If he’s coming out here to work, maybe I can show
him how to lasso, or flush strays, or cut out calves for branding.”
Taffy snorted her opinion
of that and went back to cropping the new grass with short, quick bites.
“Chad knows how much I
want to help run the ranch,” Andi said. “He even admitted I pulled my weight on
the drive. I just have to keep reminding him I can do the job.” She sat up and
drew her knees up underneath her wide, split skirt. “This dratted skirt is sure
a bother. I miss my overalls.”
At least Mother didn’t
insist Andi spend every waking moment in tightly corseted stays and proper
ladies’ garments. Only on Sundays and special occasions.
Andi dreaded Sundays and
special occasions.
Talking to Taffy always
made the hours fly. By the time the sun dropped halfway to the western horizon,
Andi had gone over every possible outcome involving Daniel’s visit.
Would he want to be called
Daniel? Dan? Danny? What did he look like? Was he tall? Short? Muscular?
Skinny? Would he want a girl tagging along behind him? Would she and Daniel be
friends, or would he prefer Melinda’s ladylike company?
The more Andi thought
about her only cousin, the more excited she grew. She stuffed Melinda’s
concerns into a little-used corner of her mind and mounted Taffy to return home.
Deep in thought, Andi didn’t
notice the welcoming whinny as she and Taffy shot past a small herd of adolescent
horses. One young fellow, a striking chocolate palomino, broke away from his
companions and streaked their way.
He caught up to the pair
and planted himself smack in their path. The colt rose to his hind legs,
flicked back his ears, and came down hard, digging his front hooves into the
ground. He whinnied a challenge.
Andi laughed at her colt’s
antics and brought Taffy to a stop. She dismounted and ran straight for the
youngster. “Shasta!” she cried merrily. “I apologize. Honest, I do!”
After a quick nose
greeting and a soft whicker for Taffy, Shasta gave all his attention to his
young mistress. He nodded, shook his flaxen mane, and stamped the ground with
his left foot.
Andi grabbed his muzzle
with both hands and brought it close to her face. “No tantrums, mister. I went
to town and came back the long way. I’m sorry I didn’t take you along when
Taffy and I went up to my spot, but it would have been clear out of my way to
come back for you.”
Shasta whickered and settled
down. He nibbled at the long braid hanging over Andi’s shoulder. Then he
snorted. You’re forgiven, he seemed to be saying. But don’t let it happen again.
It was true that Andi,
Taffy, and Shasta usually rode together these days. They’d been a threesome almost
since the day Shasta had been foaled. His twin, Sunny, had found a home almost
two years ago, but Andi refused to be parted from Taffy’s other colt.
Shasta stood like a
perfect gentleman while Andi prepared to mount. At fifteen hands, the colt already
matched his dam in height. He wasn’t quite old enough to be seriously ridden,
but Andi didn’t weigh much, and it was only a short jaunt back to the ranch
yard.
“How much simpler this
would be in a pair of britches,” Andi complained. Her split skirt allowed her
to ride astride, but it didn’t make mounting bareback any easier. Shasta was
patient, though, and Andi finally hiked herself up on his back.
With the barest shift of her
weight and a quiet voice command, the young horse took Andi into the yard and
stopped in front of the barn. Taffy followed, as if watching over her young
charges.
“Show off,” someone remarked
with a snort.
Andi turned toward the old
cowhand. “I’m not showing off.”
Sid McCoy, the ranch
foreman, crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t
mean you, Miss Andi.” He nodded at Shasta. “I mean
that young upstart of a colt you’re riding. He thinks he’s the cleverest thing
on four hooves.”
“And the prettiest, most
spirited—”
“Orneriest!” Sid barked.
Andi slid from Shasta’s
back and went nose to nose with the old man. It was hard to do, since Sid
towered over Andi by a full head. “Shasta is not ornery!”
She stepped back. “Maybe a mite spoiled, but—”
“A mite
spoiled?” Sid unfolded his arms and planted his fists on his hips. “Shasta’s
the ‘little prince’ of this spread and everybody knows it. Fact is, Chad’s been
so busy this spring he went and hired himself an experienced wrangler to work
with that whole bunch o’ two-year-olds.” He smirked. “Shasta included. That
should bring his highness down a peg or two.”
Andi’s mouth dropped open.
“Chad never said a word about it to me.” She narrowed her eyes, suspecting Sid
was pulling her leg just to see her squirm. “Your joke is not very funny. Hire
an outsider? That’s the craziest thing I ever—”
“It’s the gospel truth,
Miss Andi,” Sid interrupted. “The new man showed up this morning.”
He pointed across the
yard, where a tall figure in scruffy ranch clothes straddled the top railing of
the big corral. Just below, a small black and white, collie-type dog lay
perfectly still. Both man’s and dog’s gazes were fixed on the young horses
trotting around inside the circular pen. Andi recognized two black fillies and
a bay colt, all nearly the same age as Shasta.
Sid gave a sharp whistle.
The horseman turned and
waved. The dog bounded to his feet, suddenly alert, tail wagging.
Andi’s stomach
somersaulted. Experienced? This youngster didn’t look
old enough to shave. What was Chad thinking? “He’s not going anywhere near my colt,” she said. “And neither is his dog. We’ve got
enough dogs around this ranch already.”
Sid ignored Andi’s grumbling
and motioned to the new hand. “Come on over here a minute.” He caught Andi’s
sleeve before she could take off. “Stay put. I want him to meet Shasta, and you
too.”
“Why? I see no reason to—”
“Cuz I’m the ranch
foreman, and I’m tellin’ you to.”
Andi closed her mouth. Sid
meant business. “Yes, sir.”
The young wrangler dropped
lightly from the corral railing and hurried over. Dark-brown hair blew across
his forehead. Hazel eyes peered out from under his broad black hat like two
dusky pools of water.
He grinned. “Yes, sir?”
Sid snorted. “Since when
did you start calling me ‘sir,’ boy?”
“Since I started earning
wages on this ranch. You’re my boss, aren’t you?”
Sid shook his head. “Not
this time around. Chad hired you.” He jabbed a finger at Shasta. “Meet his
royal highness, soon to be one of your charges.”
The wrangler let out a
long, low whistle. “What a fine-looking colt. He’ll be a pleasure to work
with.”
Andi bristled. Who was
this stranger? Chad ran the ranch, but Andi was mighty tired of her brother
running her life. Or her colt’s. She and Chad were training Shasta, not some wet-behind-the-ears
outsider. Why didn’t Chad ask me what I thought about this
hiring business?
She whirled on the new man.
“Chad can do what he likes with the rest of the colts, but Shasta’s mine. I’m
in charge of his training.”
The wrangler looked taken aback.
He shoved his hat back off his forehead and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
A smile twitched his lips.
Sid burst out laughing. “She’s
still got a mind of her own, ain’t she, boy?” He turned to Andi. “Sorry I
didn’t make a proper introduction sooner, Miss Andi. It’s been a while since
you two saw each other. Riley’s growed up some, ain’t he?”
Riley whipped off his hat.
“Howdy, Miss Carter. It’s good to be back on the Circle C after all these
years.” Smile lines crinkled his face. “And you’ve grown up too, I see.”
Andi stared at Riley,
dumbstruck. Riley? Sid’s nephew Riley and Andi’s constant
companion when she was small? She peered into his face, searching for a hint of
the little boy who had filled her days with adventure so many years ago.
It was no use. Andi didn’t
recognize him. She did recognize, though, that this
Riley was quite old enough to shave, and he should have taken care of it this
morning. She flushed.
“What is it?” Riley chuckled
at her close scrutiny. “Have I got a wart on my nose?”
Andi blinked and stepped
back. Her flush deepened. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to be
rude.” How long had she been gawking at this young . . . stranger? Yes, he’s a stranger. A stranger with
Riley’s name.
A soft yelp from Riley’s
feet saved Andi from embarrassing herself further. Riley reached down and
scratched the dog. “This here’s Tucker. Smart as a whip. Pa gave him to me a
few years back. Sid says another dog on this big ranch is no trouble.” He
paused and straightened, as if waiting for Andi’s approval.
It wasn’t any of Andi’s
say-so. She shrugged and rubbed Shasta’s nose. As if from nowhere, a lump of
sugar appeared in Riley’s hand. Shasta gobbled it up and nuzzled the wrangler
for more.
Sid broke the awkward
silence. “Your brother knows what he’s doin’, Miss Andi. Shasta’s good blood. Chad
only wants the best for him.” He scratched at his whiskered chin. “He wouldn’t
hire Riley if the man didn’t know his business.”
Man? Andi
frowned. “He’s too young to have any experience.”
“I am well
into my nineteenth year, Miss Carter,” Riley protested, all the while stroking
Shasta’s neck. “When I left your ranch and rejoined my family, Pa was
transferred to Fort Bridger, then to Fort Laramie, and later all over the west.
When Fort Yuma closed last fall, I figured it was time to strike out on my
own.”
“Tell Miss Skeptic what
you’ve been up to at all them forts, boy.” Sid’s eyes blazed with pride.
“There wasn’t a fort in
the last eight years where I didn’t have full charge of the army’s horses,
including training their young stock,” Riley explained. “You’ve nothing to fear
from me regarding your colt’s training. Horses take to me, see?” He let Shasta
rest his head on his shoulder. “We’re friends already.”
“He’s got the gift,” Sid
said.
“We’ll see.” Deep down, Andi
knew Sid was right. What her brother didn’t know about horses could not fill Mother’s
thimble. If Chad thought Riley could handle the job, he undoubtedly could.
But do I
want him to?
Andi didn’t like the idea
of any stranger—even Riley—training Shasta. She sighed. Chad pretty much did
what he figured was in the best interest of the ranch. There wasn’t a lot Andi
could do about it when her bossy brother made up his mind.
There was one thing she could do, though. She could find out if the new wrangler
was in charge of all the two-year-olds, or if Shasta would be left in her
hands.
I’ll ask Chad
at supper.
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