Pony Dreams

by K. C. Sprayberry

  “You're awake! Ma, she's awake.”

  Adam made it through the door before Ma. She shoved him aside and examined my arms, legs, and back before helping me sit up.

  “You're staying in bed today, but I think you can get up tomorrow,” she said. “You boys get about your chores and I'll help Abigail to the ... the ... the.”

  Oh, golly gee, Ma. Everyone goes to the outhouse first thing in the morning.

  Ma, who never faltered at anything, blushed deep red. My brothers scooted from the room and left the house.

  “Time to get you to the comfort house,” she said.

  The trip to the outhouse was pure murder. Every step I took jarred my bones and made the bruises flare with pain. Settling on the wooden perch intensified the misery. I took care of my business and with her help, returned to the house. When my stomach growled, she smiled.

  “I guess you want something more filling than broth?” she asked.

  “I ... I ... um, I'm not sure,” I said. “I'm real hungry, but I'm not sure if I want to try anything more than the broth.”

  “Let's get you back in bed, and I'll bring you something light.”

  After eating on my own for the first time since breakfast yesterday, I laid back and closed my eyes. I didn't mean to go to sleep, it just happened. The rest of the day went much the same. Some broth and then sleep every two to three hours. Adam sat with me during the afternoon, telling jokes and drilling me on math until Ma caught him.

  “I didn't tell you Abigail could think,” she scolded. “She might have hurt her brain. You can't be pushing her too much.”

  “She's doing better today than last week,” he said. “It's like the accident made her brain move faster.”

  “Oh, well.” She tsked. “You keep an eye on her. If she looks tired, you're to stop. Read Bible verses or sing a song.”

  After she left, he looked at me. “I guess I can tell you a story.” He grimaced. “Sure don't want Ma after me 'cause you don't get better when she thinks you should.”

  “I'm too old for stories,” I said. “Can't we just pretend you didn't give me any more math problems?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “You're old enough to know Ma won't tolerate any of us making someone sicker.”

  Adam held me against his shoulder and rocked me back and forth.

  “There once was an Indian squaw who wanted to fly to the moon,” he said. “She tried to jump from the ground, but it didn't work so she climbed up on a rock.”

  The story brought back the strange memories. I caught glimpses of Grace and David listening with me. We sat on the parlor floor with my other brothers. Mark was really close to the David, and they kept talking in whispers. Adam had made noises and pretended to try all the ways the Indian maiden used to fly to the moon.

  “Who are Grace and David?” I asked.

  “No one.” Adam pulled me closer. “The Indian maiden climbed a teepee. She jumped toward the moon, but she just fell faster to the ground.”

  Even though I asked about David and Grace a couple of more times, Adam kept telling the story. After a while, his quiet voice made me fall asleep again. This time, I had the scariest dream. It was about Pa, Charles, Mark, Peter, and Paul. They were in trouble but not from Indians. They had gotten lost and couldn't find their way home. I yelled at them, to show them the way. After I did, someone called my name.

  “Wake up, Abby.”

  Not yet.

  Pa and my other brothers needed me. They weren't very far away, about ten miles from the familiar landmarks. All they had to do was look at me, and they could find their way home.

  “This way,” I called.

  “Abby, you're scaring me. Come on, honey, wake up.”

  That was Adam's voice, but he was safe at home with Ma and Bart. Pa wasn't. He needed help.

  “This way,” I shouted. “I'm okay now. It was just a little accident. Don't get mad at me, Pa.”

  From far away, Bart asked, “What's wrong?”

  “She's talking about Pa in her sleep,” Adam said. “I can't wake her up.”

  Everything shook back and forth, like it had one day when I was six. Dishes had fallen from the shelves, but this time no one yelled at me to get under a table.

  “Come on, baby,” Ma begged. “Wake up.”

  Slowly, I opened my eyes. Adam and Bart stared at me. Ma looked like she might cry unless I told them I was all right, but I couldn't reassure them. Trouble loomed for the Weston family, and I was the only one who knew about it.

  “Pa's in trouble,” I said. “We have to help him.”

  She gripped my chin. “How do you know?”

  “I saw him in a dream. He and the boys can't find their way home. They're near that old sinkhole Pa warned me to stay away from.”

  Adam leapt to his feet. “Bart, do you remember where that place is?”

  His expression solemn, Bart nodded.

  “Ride as hard as you can,” Adam said. “See if something has gone wrong, and Pa couldn't send the signal.”

  Bart clattered out of the house. A few minutes later, horse's hooves pounded past.

  “Why did I dream about Pa?” I asked. “It was strange.”

  “Sometimes, when you love someone very much, you can tell when they're in trouble,” Ma said.

  Adam carried me to the parlor, and then he settled me on the sofa. He never explained why, nor did Ma when she brought me custard. While eating the unexpected treat, I kept an eye on the front of the house through the oiled-paper window. Ma and Adam slinked around like barn cats running across the midsummer desert sand.

  “What's wrong?” I asked.

  He jumped almost to the ceiling. “Don't know, short stuff.”

  “Why are you so nervous?”

  “Just don't like waiting,” he said.

  I tilted my head and stared at him. He was the second most patient person I knew, Pa being the first. Until today, my oldest brother had never told me a lie. As I thought about his response to my questions about David and Grace, I began to suspect Adam had told me quite a few fibs, but I'd never realized it until now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Two gunshots blasted. I jerked and looked around.

  Bad trouble!

  Was it the Paiute? The Johnsons? Near to bursting with curiosity, I checked the hallway. No one was in sight, so I struggled off the sofa to find out what was going on. Adam pointed at me as he raced for the gunroom.

  “Stay where you are. Ma, I'll get your rifle,” he called.

  Grumbling, I sank back onto the seat. He quickly loaded two of the long guns and returned to the kitchen. A door opened, slammed closed, and then he ran toward the barn with a rifle in one hand. Seconds later, he emerged, bending low over his stallion and riding north. I knelt on the sofa and stared as hard as I could. Bright sunlight made me squint and brought on a headache. Ma was in the kitchen, and all my brothers were on the trail with Pa. No one would ever discover I had stood up. A wave of dizziness hit me as I did.

  “Abigail, put your backside on that sofa this minute,” Ma shouted.

  Holy heck! How did she know?

  As soon as the room stopped spinning, I eased onto the horsehair covering. The slick fabric caused me to slide forward. I pressed my toes against the floor to keep from falling over.

  Another worry beset me while focusing on the horizon through the window. Did the shots mean trouble, or had someone found Pa and my brothers? When would anyone tell me what was happening? Determined to discover what was going on, I stood again.

  “I told you to sit, and I meant it.” Ma came through the door. “You won't get any better if you don't listen. Come on, I want you where I can keep an eye on you.”

  She helped me onto the porch, to a rocking chair she kept out there to relax at the end of the day. After tucking a blanket around me, she paced back and forth.

  After what felt like hours, a rider raced past us. He didn't slow down until he released his horse into corral. Charles sprinted t
o the house. He panted as if he had ridden flat out for days.

  “It's Pa, Peter, and Paul,” he said. “They took sick not long after we left Carson City. Mr. Johnson took Pa into a saloon, and then Daniel teased Peter and Paul until they ate something he gave them.”

  She grabbed me out of the chair.

  “Get your sister into my bedroom and don't let her out of the bed.”

  “What happened to the runt?” he asked.

  “Throwed,” she said as she pelted through the door.

  He carried me to Ma and Pa's bed.

  “First I ever heard of a horse tossing you.” He laid me on the blankets. “What did you do, daydream?”

  I stuck out my tongue. He yanked my braids in retaliation.

  “Keep that up, and Ma will make sure you don't have a reason to toss that tongue around,” he said. “Stay here. I'm gonna see if she needs help.”

  He stomped toward the bunkhouse and appeared a few seconds later with sheets draped all over him, and blankets in his arms.

  “Take them to the barn. Don't bother doing much more than tossing them into the hayloft. You and the others can make up your pallets later,” she yelled.

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “How far out are they?” she hollered before he got out the door.

  “A mile or two, but it's hard keeping Pa and the troublemakers on their horses. Adam sent me ahead to warn you. He also said to keep the runt out of trouble.”

  She chased him down the hallway and mimed smacking his backside.

  “Stop teasing your sister,” Ma said. “No one would have known a thing until you rode up if not for her.”

  The sound of horses plodding up to the house came through the open door. Charles stopped before going outside.

  “Stay there. This is serious, Abigail. We aren't sure what made them ill, and you're looking a bit green. We don't need you falling over.”

  He sure could hurt me with just a few words, and to use Abigail! Ma couldn't have heard him, not with her bustling around in the bunkroom, shoving beds this way and that.

  “I'm not a little kid,” I shouted at his retreating form.

  She bustled past the door and stopped for a second.

  “Don't even think about moving.”

  “I can help.”

  “Open my window, but don't you dare strain yourself.” She pulled the door tight.

  I slammed against the wall behind the bed and folded my arms across my chest. As I did, realization dawned. It was an incredibly dumb move. Every bruised muscle and bone screeched in pain. Only Adam's terse explanations kept me from crying out.

  “They're burning up with fever. I didn't stop to wash them down, figured you'd want them in a bed quick,” he said. “Pa's the worst.”

  “Into the bunkhouse,” Ma said. “Peter and Paul near the door, your pa near the window. Mark, stay with Abigail. She's in my bedroom.”

  Moving carefully, I walked toward the window.

  “She's not sick, too, is she?” Mark asked

  His question increased my frustration. My brothers would never forgive me for falling off the horse.

  “Tossed off a horse,” Bart said. “Thought it hurt her real bad, but she was just winded.”

  Mark burst through the door. He shook a finger at me when he discovered me standing near the window.

  “When Ma says stay in bed, no one else ignores her,” he said.

  “But—”

  “Don't argue, get on that bed.”

  “Make sure Abigail got that window up,” Ma called.

  His face reddened as he lifted the window. “Sorry. How are you feeling?”

  “It hurts,” I whispered, “but it was my fault. How are Pa, Peter, and Paul?”

  “Not good.”

  A hard ball replaced my stomach. My injuries ached with a fierceness that reminded me of the moments after the horse tossed me. It took every bit of willpower I possessed to keep from crying. Just when everyone needed to work the hardest, my injuries forced one of my brothers to watch me. I chewed my lip to hold back tears. We had much bigger worries with three people so sick. There was no doctor closer than a three-day ride.

  Ma can fix this. I gotta stop thinking about doctors.

  A horse snorted outside the window.

  “Peter, we're home,” Bart said. “Don't go running off.”

  I slid off the bed, and Mark scowled.

  “Don't even think about it.”

  Holy heck! This has to stop. I fumed.

  Everyone else bustled to and fro. They all had important jobs.

  Charles walked the horses past the open window. I could have helped him, if I hadn't been daydreaming. Bart hurried up the stairs with two baskets, one brimming with eggs and the other full of long black sticks that had cracks in them. That chore should have been mine, if I hadn't messed up.

  “Pa, you just have to take a few more steps.”

  Adam's deep rumble frightened me. His normally reassuring voice sounded worried.

  “Louisa okay?” Pa's words slurred together.

  Fear pushed me to my feet, and I regretted it immediately. The room tilted at a crazy angle, and then everything bobbed up and down. Mark leapt across the floor and shoved me back onto the bed.

  “Darn it, Abby,” he shouted. “Ma's too busy to mess with a stubborn child. Do I have to tie you down?”

  “Quit treating me like a baby!” Tears spilled out of my eyes.

  I wasn't crying because Mark had yelled at me. it was silly to think I'd feel sorry for myself. Everything about this situation scared me so bad the tears just came out on their own. And it felt very familiar, but I couldn't figure out why.

  The dreams I'd had since the accident might have provided a clue, but they were fuzzy, almost impossible to remember.

  “Then stop acting like one.” Mark shook his head. “Quit crying. That never solves anything.”

  He paced around the room. Every time he passed the door, he poked his head out and asked one of the others for an update. No one said much, and he never enlightened me. About an hour later, the smell of charcoal drifted through the house.

  “Ugh!” I wrinkled my nose. “Why that?”

  “Ma's not sure what made them sick. We heard smallpox had come up at one of the camps where the Army's holding the Paiute who raided the stations. She's not taking any chances. Darn it, Abby, why did you have to mess up?” He fixed an angry glare on me.

  Holy heck! This is the limit. I'm not sick, just hurting. Well, I'll show the lot of them. It's time to get up. Ma needs my help.

  I scrambled off the bed.

  “Get me a dress and my petticoats. The lot of you won't insult me anymore.”

  He started for me, but I pointed at the door and tapped a foot, much as I had seen Ma do whenever someone didn't jump fast enough to suit her. Mark bolted out of the room.

  “Abigail won't get back in bed. She told me to bring her a dress and her petticoats!” he shouted.

  “Then do it,” Ma called. “I'll need help with meals.”

  For the first time since the horse sent me flying, everyone had quit telling me what to do. I giggled.

  “Bring me the yellow dress,” I called. “And hurry.”

  “Close off that sass,” Ma commented as she trotted toward the porch.

  After Mark brought my clothes, I made him turn around because he refused to leave me alone. It turned out for the best. My fingers cooperated, but my arms hurt too much to button up my dress.

  “Uh, Mark, could you ... uh, my dress, it's a bit hard to do up.”

  “Turn around,” he said.

  Gently holding the fabric away from my chemise, he slipped the buttons through the holes. Once finished, he pulled me into a hug.

  “Darn it, kiddo, don't ever do something so stupid again. Pa will holler at you day and night when he hears about this.”

  Snaking my arms around his neck, I held onto him for a long time.

  “I won't,” I promised. “I'm sorry I scared
you.”

  He helped me walk to the kitchen and insisted on getting my boots and stockings before I started work. The woolen socks went on fine, but the boots proved troublesome. Bending over to hook them was too painful.

  “You should still be in bed,” He grumbled as he took care of my boots. “I'd hold you there myself if Pa and the troublemakers weren't so sick.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Adam said from the door.

  He and the rest of my brothers crowded into the kitchen. Except for Peter and Paul, and that seemed very strange.

  “Abby, you're not to lift anything heavy or stoke the stove,” Adam said. “Ma's orders. Mark, you stay in here. Bart, you're in charge of the stock, the chickens, and the vegetable garden. Charles, you're with me.

  “What will we do?” Charles asked.

  “There's still the contract to meet,” Adam said. “Did Pa say when they expected the next delivery?”

  That didn't make a lick of sense, and I almost embarrassed myself by telling Adam the contract could wait. Then I remembered what Pa had said after signing it. The contract meant he gave his word to do the job, and a man's word was something a person never went back on.

  “Two to three weeks,” Charles said. “Man from Russell, Majors, & Waddel told him we should bring the next delivery to the first station on our route. The Army's sending a cavalry troop to clear out the rest of the Paiute.” He sighed. “They want twice as many horses as normal this time. The Indians destroyed a bunch of stations. They killed the keepers and took the stock.”

  “Damnation!” Adam shoved his hands through his hair. “Hellfire and damnation!”

  My eyes widened. I'd heard curses before, but never one this bad.

  “Adam James Weston, don't you dare curse in front of your sister,” Ma bellowed.

  Red-faced, he glanced at me. “Sorry, short stuff. Okay, nothing for it, we'll have to round up more mustangs. Abby, don't push yourself too much. Even a grown man has problems moving after a horse tosses him.” He held up a hand when I opened my mouth to argue. “Kiddo, it just plain hurts, and you didn't move all that well when I reached you. Do you want me to repeat what you said? Let me see, if I remember right?”

  I flew across the room and slapped a hand over his mouth, shaking my head as fiery heat lit up my cheeks. The rest of my brothers looked from me to Adam with interest.