Katie and the Mustang, Book 4 (5 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

F
ort Bridger was in the middle of a green oasis of creeks and trees. There were twenty tipis, leathern tents shaped like tall funnels. Indian women and their trapper husbands lived in them, Mr. Kyler said.

There were children everywhere, running and laughing or somber-faced and concentrating on work of some kind. I saw a boy no older than five scraping the hair off what looked like deer hides.

The women were busy like we were, from early light onward. Once, when I took our plates to the creek to wash them properly, I knelt down, then, after I got started, I saw an Indian woman a little upstream. She held a heavy iron stew pot and waited politely until I had finished so she wouldn't muddy the water. Her eyes were merry and her mouth curved into a lovely smile. I tried to talk to her. She answered me, but in her own language. We could only smile at each other.

Mrs. Kyler bought soft leather slippers for all her granddaughters that the Indian women had made. And she bought a pair for me, too. I was so touched to have the present that I wept, and she hugged me.

Everyone stopped and rested a day or two at Fort Bridger—the Mormon party in front of us and the one behind us camped not far from our camp while we were there. But when we packed up our wagons and headed northwest, they all joined into one big company and turned south.

We all waved farewell to them. I wondered what their city would be like, if it was in a place that had forests and green grass, or the kind of dry, rocky kind of land we had seen so much of on the way to Fort Bridger. For their sakes, I hoped the salty lake hadn't killed all the trees.

I asked about letters in the post store. There were a few, all tossed into a cracker box. There was no sign of any more of mine and that was a relief. But there was no answer from my uncle Jack waiting for someone to carry east, either.

I was blue for the rest of the day. But maybe he had sent an answer two years before, and it hadn't reached me. That happened all the time, I knew.

So I stopped moping around and got my chores done early, just in case Miss Liddy wanted to start teaching me that evening—but she didn't. Everyone in her camp was kneeling, looking at the axle on one of the wagons. I saw them talking to the joiner at the fort the next morning. Mr. Le Croix and Mr. Dillard carried a new axle back to camp around noon.

That same day, I spent a long time brushing the Mustang while he stood with Delia and Midnight off to the edge of Andrew Kyler's herd. I pushed my hands up beneath his heavy mane and pressed my palms against the warmth of his coat.

I kept watching Miss Liddy and the men in her company as they changed the wagon axle. I felt scared and at first I thought I was just nervous about the trick riding. Maybe I would fall off so many times that I would have to give up. It would be embarrassing.

But that wasn't it, I admitted to myself as I left the Mustang that evening and went to lay out my bedroll beneath the Kyler's wagon. I was worrying about finding my Uncle Jack. What if I
couldn't
?

The evening after we left Fort Bridger, we camped on a wide level place with grass closer than usual and a creek nearby. Miss Liddy waved at me and gave me a little nod as she jumped down from her wagon bench. I settled the Mustang with the mares and Andrew Kyler's herd, then I worked at a furious pace, cleaning up after supper.

“You excited about something?” Mrs. Kyler asked me, smiling.

I nodded, then hesitated so long that I blushed. I didn't want to tell her. What if she tried to forbid me? It was dangerous; that was perfectly obvious.

“Miss Liddy promised...” I began, then I stalled.

Mrs. Kyler was watching me carefully. “Promised you what?”

I flushed red but could not make another word come out of my mouth. It was silly—the whole camp would know. They would
watch
.

I made a weak gesture in the direction of Miss Liddy's wagons and took in a breath. “She said she would teach me.”

Mrs. Kyler's eyes went wide. “To ride like that?”

I nodded, waiting for her to go get Mr. Kyler so they could forbid me. But she didn't. Instead, she looked wistful. “If I were still light and young and graceful...” She grinned at me. “Oh, I am jealous, indeed. Everyone will be. How in the world did you talk her into that?”

I smiled, relieved. Then I shrugged. “We were just talking, and I asked her straight out.”

Mrs. Kyler was nodding. “I remember that first day, the way you two called out to each other, discovered you'd both lost your parents.”

I had forgotten, but Mrs. Kyler was right. Maybe that was why Miss Liddy had agreed.

“I hoped once you got over being scared of the fever, you two might be friends,” Mrs. Kyler said. “Go on. I can finish up here.”

I hugged her. “I thought you would try to talk me out of it.”

“Mr. Kyler will, but we'll work on him.”

I smiled at her again, then started running

toward Miss Liddy's wagon. They had camped a little farther off as they had been doing since they had started practicing. It took extra room for the big mare to canter in her perfect circles.

“Are you ready?” Miss Liddy said when I got there.

I stood up straight. “Yes, ma'am.”

“First of all, you need to meet Genevieve.”

I started. “Genevieve?” I echoed, trying to pronounce it right. “Is that the mare's name?”

She smiled. “It is. It's an old name, French, I am told. The man who raised her knew all sorts of interesting things about horse training.” She gestured for me to lead the way. I walked toward their picket line. The horses were all standing quietly, grazing.

Genevieve stood so much taller than the rest that it looked odd, like a real horse had been set next to toy horses. The closer I got, the bigger she looked. When I stopped in front of her, I stared down at her hooves. They were as big as Mrs. Kyler's pie tins.

“She's big,” Miss Liddy said.

Her voice was so flat and wry that it made me laugh.

“Genevieve is the most gentle creature to walk this earth,” Miss Liddy added. “She would break a leg before she stepped on me—or you. So it is your duty to protect her from having to hurt herself. Ready to work a little?” she asked. I nodded, then saw that she was talking to the mare, not to me.

We walked a little ways from camp, the big mare following Miss Liddy as she always did, without any tack at all. Once we had found a level place, Miss Liddy stopped.

“This will do,” she said. “How much riding have you done?”

“Never anything like what you do,” I said timidly.

She laughed her loud, mannish laugh, and I felt suddenly shy around her. As used as I was to seeing her striding around in her trousers from a distance, she was so different from any woman I had ever known that she made me uneasy this close up.

She smiled and apologized for laughing. “I meant, can you ride a horse at all?”

I nodded, then I shook my head. “I rode when I was real little, sitting on the plow horses and sometimes behind my father on his horse.”

“Never alone?”

“A few times in the pasture. I was only six when...”

“And you didn't ride much after you went to live with the farm couple?”

I stared at her, caught completely off guard. I guess it showed on my face because she apologized again. “Mrs. Kyler has told me a little about you. How mean those people were. She heard it all from your friend Hiram.”

I nodded, wondering why it bothered me so much to know that Hiram had talked about the Stevenses to Mrs. Kyler. “Are you all right?” Miss Liddy asked. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I'm fine,” I said, even though it wasn't quite true.

“Let's just start with a walk and see how it feels to you,” she said.

I watched her position herself by the mare's side. She bent down, facing me, her hands clasped together. “Left foot. Step in my hands like a stirrup, and I will lift you. Then swing your leg over. You can hang on to her mane; she won't mind. She won't much notice anything you do, in fact. She will be listening to me.”

I took a deep breath and stepped into Miss Liddy's hands and reached upward to get a handful of mane. I was afraid I would fall off before I ever got on, but I didn't. I swung my leg over the mare's back and sat, feeling like I was astride a barn roof. The mare's back felt that high and that wide.

I heard a little round of cheers from the wagons and I twisted around to look. They were all watching. I saw Grover grinning at me. I buried both hands in the mare's mane, getting even more nervous.

“Circle, Genevieve,” Miss Liddy said. The mare swayed into motion, picking her own path. “Trick horses are trained to keep a steady pace and an even line, no matter what,” Miss Liddy told me. “If they slow or swerve, the rider would come flying off in the middle of a stunt. So don't worry if you flop around a bit.”

I sat still and tried to square my shoulders and lift my chin the way Miss Liddy did when she rode.

“Head up,but pull your shoulders down,not back,” she said quietly. I obeyed and felt the difference in my posture. It made balancing a little easier, too.

“You look very nice up there,” Miss Liddy said.

I felt myself blushing—I was that pleased.

“Now let go of her mane,” she said. “Spread your arms. She is only going to walk. She's trained riders before; she knows you need her help.”

I lifted my arms and let my fingers curl gently, my palms down.

Miss Liddy nodded. “You have been watching carefully. That's good.”

I blushed again and pulled my shoulders down. There was something wonderful about sitting on top of that tall, gentle mare. I couldn't wait for the day I could stand on her back, my arms out, amazing anyone who saw me.

“Head up,” Miss Liddy said, and I lifted my chin. I wanted to look as graceful as she did, to feel like I was working magic. I concentrated, focusing on every word Miss Liddy said to me and the big mare's movements. Shoulders down, head up, eyes straight ahead. It felt
wonderful
.

CHAPTER SIX