Pony Dreams

by K. C. Sprayberry

  The silence with all those men around us was so loud, I just had to say something. Nothing came to mind though.

  There is something I could do.

  “We need to take more ponies soon, don't we?” I faced the corral.

  “Five days,” Adam said.

  “I'll work with the horses while you build the house.” I hugged him tightly. “I promise I won't daydream.”

  “That's a darned good idea,” he said. “I hadn't figured out how to break the horses and build a house.”

  I approached the herd's leader while blinking back tears.

  “You'll carry a friend of mine for The Pony. I want you to listen to him, so he doesn't have to punch you. Will you let me up on your back so my brothers can get this house built? We have to get ready for a new shipment, and you're all we have to send this time. I'll make sure the ones who stay behind bring lots of your friends so you won't be lonely.”

  A soft nose nuzzling my hand almost made me run for the hills, but I gulped back my sobs and climbed onto his back.

  “Just you hang on while I make sure those men aren't messin' around.”

  I looked around. Adam took half our neighbors to where we wanted to put the new house. Within minutes, the men set to work on smoothing dirt while others pounded in long, thick corner beams. The rest of my brothers stacked the burned remains of our old house far from everything else. Uncle Andy leaned against the well, careful of his burned arm.

  The day before Adam's group had to ride out to meet our contract, the men finished the house. Our neighbors headed for home after calling goodbye. I silently walked away from the corral and entered the kitchen. It didn't look much like the other one as I checked out the room.

  “Where's the food?” I asked.

  “In the pantry,” Adam said. “Can you handle a simple supper? I have to make sure everyone's set until I get back.”

  “Cooking's my chore. You do what you have to.” I pulled out a freshly dressed chicken and chopped it. “Adam?”

  “Yup?”

  “Can you have Paul bring me lots of vegetables? I think soup is all I can handle right now.”

  “Sure thing, short stuff.”

  He paused and looked at me, his quizzical expression almost making me laugh. I wouldn't scold him. If he wanted to, he could call me short stuff for the rest of my life.

  “Bart will stay here with you and the rest,” he said. “I can handle the ponies we have.”

  “I guess so.” My heart sank at the thought of him leaving.

  What if Adam never comes back? What will we do then?

  He walked out, and I prepared soup and a pan of cornbread. After sliding the iron skillet into the oven, I began cleaning up.

  “Do you need help?” Uncle Andy asked.

  He was never far away. It worried me how much he kept an eye on me.

  “Just set at the table and keep me company.”

  When Adam and the rest returned to wash up, I grabbed the cornbread pan without a cloth.

  “Look out!” Uncle Andy's shout didn't come in time.

  “Holy heck!” I wailed. “That hurts.”

  “Mark, get some water,” he hollered out the door. “Adam, find that stuff the doctor left for burns. Hurry.”

  Blisters formed before they got back. I blew on them, but nothing helped. Only when Uncle Andy smoothed cream across the hot skin and wrapped it did I feel better.

  “I guess I needed help after all,” I said.

  “I'm here whenever you need me,” my uncle said.

  Peter and Mark took care of the dishes while I nursed my injured fingers on the porch.

  Holy heck! The very first time I make a meal in our new home, and I mess up.

  “Ma,” I whispered. “Can you help me a tiny bit, please? Just until I remember all the stuff you taught me. It sure would help the others stop worrying about me.”

  Warmth drove away the chill in my bones. I went inside.

  “We have to snap her out of this,” Uncle Andy said. “She's just a child.”

  “I'm still having bad days,” Adam said. “It's been less than two weeks. She'll come around.”

  “I hope so.”

  Without letting them know I had heard, I crept back outside and walked to our cemetery, kneeling in front of the newest marker. No tears came to ease the ache in my heart; I couldn't afford them anymore. To make sure my family didn't pine away from grief, I had to quit making mistakes.

  “I'll make sure we don't fail, Ma,” I promised while touching the locket I never took off. “You were right. I'm a woman now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A year after the Johnsons ripped apart my family, I knelt in front of the grave marker. My brothers and uncle hadn't seen me sneak out. I wanted no one listening to what I had to say.

  “It's my seventeenth birthday,” I said. “I didn't remind Adam, Bart, Charles, Mark, Paul, and Uncle Andy about it, Ma. I know you and Pa wanted me to go to dances and such, but they need me.” My fingers shook as I touched their names, carved into the tough wood by Adam and Bart. “Sheriff Cove stopped by yesterday to tell us about the Johnsons. Seems the Army tried them 'cause they interfered with a federal contract, whatever that is. Those lazy, good-for-nothings are going to prison for the rest of their lives, so you can quit worrying about them coming after us again.” Like always, when reminded of their deaths, tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, but I choked them back. “We do all right most days. Paul even quit messing around instead of doing his chores. He probably works harder than Adam now.” I sighed and stood. “Uncle Andy stayed with doctoring, but he makes folks come here unless it's an emergency. I guess you already know all this, but I felt like I had to tell you.”

  With a heavy heart, I walked away. Laughing voices floated around me, encouraging me to have some fun. I looked around but didn't see anyone.

  Ride a horse today, Abby. Don't give up enjoying life because we aren't with you.

  That was Ma's voice! I almost screamed but gulped back my fear and walked toward the corral. There was one stubborn, high-spirited mustang in it. Adam planned to release him as soon as he returned from his latest delivery.

  “Nothing tried, nothing gained.” I held out a hand and waited.

  The proud, magnificent animal glared at me with his dark eyes flashing. I remained silent as I stood there watching him. He tossed his head, whinnied, and cantered in a circle.

  “Just one ride?” I asked.

  He stopped mid-stride with his rear to me. His head turned until his gaze met mine.

  “I don't weigh near as much as my brothers.”

  After ducking his head, the mustang came over to the fence. I scrambled onto his back and threaded my fingers through his mane while pressing my knees into his sides. He began to run around the corral. All the love for riding I had bottled up burst out. I laughed and threw back my head, enjoying the breeze washing over me.

  “What are you doing?” Uncle Andy shouted. “That horse will throw you, Abby.”

  Laughing harder, I shook my head. Only one horse had ever thrown me, and it wasn't because he wanted to. The mustang ran in a few more circles, and then he stopped by the gate. I slid off his back, opened the latch, and pushed the gate open.

  “Thank you.” I stepped back so I didn't block his path to freedom. “You're free.”

  He reared once and then ran for the desert. Bart, Charles, Mark, Peter, and Uncle Andy watched openmouthed when the animal stopped and dropped his head in what looked like a bow.

  I walked into the house and started supper. Two hours later, I labored to keep the stew from sticking to the pot.

  “About ready?” Uncle Andy leaned through the door.

  “Nearly.”

  I opened the oven door and reached for an iron skillet. Before my bare fingers touched it, he grabbed a towel and rescued the cornbread.

  “Gotta be careful,” he said. “Don't want to end up with blisters again, do you?”

  “No, sir,” I
whispered.

  Despite having kept my vow not to cry for a year, tears spilled down my cheeks. It wasn't that I acted like a girl anymore. I didn't even dress like one because we had to save every penny to keep the ranch going.

  “It'll get better.” He patted my back before carrying the meal to the table.

  The urge to remind him what day it was withered on my tongue before I voiced the words. No one else had wanted a birthday celebration over the last year. I felt guilty at how much I wanted them to acknowledge mine.

  My brothers entered after washing up. Except Adam, he still hadn't returned from the latest delivery. I walked to the kitchen door and stared into the desert.

  Where is he? Adam should have come home last night.

  “Sit down, Abby,” Bart said. “The meal will get cold if you don't.”

  “Go ahead without me,” I said.

  None of them remembered today was October twenty-fourth, exactly a year and a day ago, the Johnsons had burned the house. That it coincided with my birthday made me feel like I would never get over the losses. My stupid brothers just sat at the table and ate, as if nothing horrible had occurred. What kind of idiots were they? I lost myself in memories of how much better things had been last year. A shout from the corral caught me by surprise.

  “Riders in!”

  My heart caught in my throat. The voice sounded familiar, but I hadn't heard it in a long time. Supper forgotten, I scampered to a man who once made me happy.

  “Pony Bob!” I threw my arms around his neck.

  Footsteps pounded across the ground. The rest of my family joined us, shouting hello, and demanding to know why he had come all this way to see us. He lifted me into a hug and turned in a circle. Adam's face flashed in and out of view while the whole world spun.

  “At least you made her smile. We haven't seen that since you rode off,” he said.

  “I bet.” Pony Bob lowered me to the ground. “Adam asked me to come back with him and tell you the news. Almost didn't until he told me what happened last year. Sure am sorry about your parents and brother. Your pa was as fine a man as I've ever met.” He cleared his throat. “You kids don't have to worry about providing horses for The Pony anymore.”

  I looked up at him in surprise. What was he talking about? Had the company decided to end our contract? What would we do now?

  “What up?” Mark asked.

  “The Pony's done,” Pony Bob said. “The government strung up the telegraph lines between St. Joe and San Francisco. Folks would rather send a telegram than pay for a letter. Now, I heard tell this little gal cooks nearly as well as she trains horses. Care to let me escort you inside, Abby?”

  I giggled. Relief flooded my brothers and uncle's faces.

  “About time,” Paul muttered. “Wasn't right, her moping all the time.”

  We returned to the house and dug into our meal. It didn't matter if it was cold. The charred bits of meat and vegetables from the bottom of the pot tasted as sweet as anything Ma had ever made. After we finished, Adam produced a dried apple pie.

  “Mrs. Carson sent this. She also told us to stop at the station if we're ever in the area,” he said. “The Pony let her and her husband keep it as a stopping place for travelers.” Adam grinned. “I bet you think we forgot all about your birthday. Well, we didn't. I asked the others to pretend they had, so I could have Mrs. Carson make something special for you.”

  “Oh!” A blush heated my cheeks. “Thank you.”

  While we consumed the unexpected treat, he leaned back in his chair and poked his piece with a fork.

  “I sold the ranch.”

  Forks clattered against plates.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Why?” Uncle Andy asked.

  “The buyer paid three thousand for everything,” Adam said. “He and his family are coming next week.” He held my hands. “Abby, it's not right for you to live all the way out here with just men around you. You need other girls to grow up right.”

  Pony Bob cleared his throat. “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Go ahead,” Uncle Andy said.

  “They need another doc up in Carson City. Big strike in one of those mines. Lots of jobs not related to the mining, and Abby could have a few more females around her.”

  “I don't need girls,” I said.

  No one paid me any mind. I stared out the window while they discussed their plans. Adam wanted to find a job in a store, or maybe buy one. That sounded dumb. Who wanted to be stuck inside all day when we had the most wonderful ranch in the world?

  “I'd like to draw again,” Mark said. “Haven't done much of that since the fire.” He hung his head. “Carson City would offer plenty of opportunities for pictures. Maybe I'd even sell them to Easterners.”

  My gaze fastened on the corral. No horses hung their heads over the railings. Maybe it was a good thing we no longer had to worry about the next delivery. Silence from behind drew my attention back to my family.

  “Anything wrong, Abby?” Uncle Andy asked.

  “Just wondering,” I said.

  I worked to quiet my fears about leaving.

  I wonder if Carson City is too big. Sure hope not. I don't want anyone worrying I'll get lost.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Even though we had settled in Carson City, one thing still bothered me. I never told my brothers and uncle. I didn't want them worrying about me, but I couldn't shake the feeling I had been responsible for the fire that took our parents and Paul. The Johnsons may have gone to prison for lighting it, but I still felt like I had set everything into motion after I yelled at Pony Bob about hitting Blaze.

  I wandered out of our store, amused by the strange crowd meandering along the street. Scantily clad women shouted invitations to miners. The men tipped their hats and hurried to their claims. Coaches and wagons threw dust everywhere while cowboys herded steers to a pen near the railway siding. Since moving here a month ago, I had tried to get used to the differences, but falling asleep was hard with the constant racket.

  “Abby, can you give me a hand?” Adam asked.

  After turning around, I stopped in the doorway. Mark picked up a dress from a pile on the counter. The pink gingham had white polka dots all over it, and a light blue ribbon around the waist. A little longing rose within my heart at how pretty it looked, but my sensible head argued that was for another Abby, one who obeyed her parents and didn't cause their deaths.

  “Whose crazy idea is this?” I demanded.

  “Like it?” Charles asked.

  “No.”

  “You'll look downright pretty in it,” Bart said.

  “Forget it.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. A moan almost slipped past my lips when he held up a dark green dress with a light yellow ribbon around the skirt and sleeve hems.

  “What about this one?” Adam asked.

  “Come on, Abby,” Paul wheedled. “Try on one. Me and the rest spent hours picking them out.”

  “I won't wear a dress again,” I said. “Get it through your thick skulls.”

  What were they thinking? The money we received for the ranch would disappear if they wasted it on stuff like that. I liked wearing Paul's cast off clothes. That made it easier to climb the ladder to reach the top shelf, and no one worried when I ripped a shirt or a pair of pants. Just because we lived in a city, I wasn't going to dress like a girl.

  “You have to act more like a lady, or folks might get the wrong idea,” Adam said.

  I shook my head.

  “Bet Pony Bob likes them,” Charles commented.

  If I knew them, they would soon start pestering me about going to dances and church socials, just like Ma and Pa wanted to do right before they died. Well, I wouldn't let that happen. Weston's General Store had done well since we opened the doors. I had even gotten used to the women trying to convince me to give up my pants and boots. It was the only part of my old life I still had.

  “Try on one,” Mark said. “I bet you'll li
ke it.”

  “No. If I was a boy, Ma, Pa, and Peter would still be here.”

  Their lips tightened, but they didn't argue. Certain I had made them finally understand that I would never change my mind, I gathered what I needed for our evening meal and disappeared into the kitchen. No one helped me anymore, I had become an accomplished cook.

  I smiled while sprinkling salt and pepper on a beef roast. Humming, I slid the meat into the modern stove Adam installed the day after we unpacked. It had a firebox in the back, and a well to one side that always kept water hot. After preparing vegetables and potatoes, I mixed cornbread and wiped the counter.

  A bell tinkled in the store

  “Where's my gal?” Uncle Andy called.

  “Hey, how's doctoring?” I turned around.

  “Better than the grand plan to get you in a dress,” he said. “Do we have enough for company?”

  “Sure.”

  A year ago, I would have asked who, but it no longer mattered. Making my uncle and brothers happy was all I planned to do for the rest of my life. Maybe then I could make up for ignoring Ma's advice by talking to Pony Bob.

  When setting the table, I wondered about our visitor. Would it be that gal Mark liked so much? Some friends of Paul's had asked to come back after I made peanut brittle. Adam and Bart had invited the new preacher last week. Maybe he was our company.

  “Hey, short stuff. Is there plenty for a starving friend?

  Pony Bob strolled into the room with a girl my age. For the first time since moving here, I felt out of place in pants.

  “Abby, this is my niece, Cassandra Rose,” he said. “She's come to stay with me.”

  “Hey, Abby,” Cassandra said. “Call me Cassie.”

  “Hey, Cassie. I need to change. Want to help?”

  The sight of Cassie in her pretty blue calico dress with tiny white flowers dotted across it brought a yearning I hadn't felt in a long time. I sorted through the clothes Mark had hung in my closet and decided on the pink one.

  “You have the nicest clothes,” she said. “Is it comfortable wearing pants? Uncle Bob said I could but only when I went riding. He brought me here tonight because–”