One Brave Summer (Quartz Creek Ranch)

by Amber J. Keyser

  Nervous energy jittered through Paley. She shifted back and forth, back and forth. Confidence. Conviction. Courage. That’s what she had needed to work with Prince, and that’s what she needed now. She took a deep breath. “Ma Etty, I really need to go check on the fossil.”

  Ma Etty started to respond, but before she could, Paley held up one hand. “Please hear me out.” Ma Etty gave her one of those smiles teachers use when they are trying to be patient, and Paley kept talking all in a rush. “I know that you don’t think Thomas can take the fossil, but what if he can? And what if we can stop it? The newspaper said stuff was getting stolen. Mr. Goodstein said there was digging on his property. What if Thomas is doing it? All you have to do is let me go to the lake. Everyone wants to go with me, and we can keep watch over the fossil until Dr. Moore comes and I know it’s safe.”

  Paley clamped her lips shut, feeling her heart pound against her ribs. The noise of the computer fan seemed way too loud in the small office.

  For a split second, Paley was halfway to the fossil. Prince was carrying her there at a gallop. In the next second, she knew exactly what Ma Etty was going to say, and it was like being thrown from his back.

  “It’s a half-day’s ride to get to the lake. We have too much ranch business to take a full day off right now.” Paley felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “I promise that we’ll go when Dr. Moore is here. For now, that will have to be enough.” The old woman turned deliberately back to the keyboard.

  The clicking of the keys filled the quiet house. Once Paley noticed the sound, it was all she heard. Click, click, click. Frustration roared through Paley. Why was it so hard to get people to understand her?

  When her parents announced that they were moving, that was it. They didn’t care about her opinion. She didn’t get a vote. She got a big pile of boxes and was told to pack up her room. When she’d tried to join the gaming club, those boys hadn’t even given her a chance to show her skills in Dragonfyre. She’d thought she was connecting with the people here, but even Ma Etty wouldn’t take her seriously.

  Click, click, click. The sound was all she could think about. The sound and what it meant to her. It was the sound of talons on castle walls and terrified livestock escaping. It was Dragonfyre.

  Paley’s fingers itched. If she could just get online for a little while, then it wouldn’t matter that no one understood.

  She could escape the waiting. She could escape Thomas Goodstein.

  She could escape herself.

  Click, click, click.

  Chapter Twenty

  That night, Paley waited until the light streaming out from under Madison’s bedroom door clicked off. She waited until Sundee was snoring like a little mouse. She waited until the world outside was still. A shiver raced through her as she slid out of bed. Part of the shiver was the cool boards against her bare feet. Part was the fear of being caught. Part was the anticipation of the journey.

  Soon, very soon, the Blue Elf would be striding through the Misery Marshes, sword in hand, spell at the ready. There would be no Thomas, and even if he did show up, she could show him a thing or two. Pillar of Fire! Poison Miasma! There were so many options for revenge.

  Paley eased the bunkhouse door open and slipped outside. The moon was past full and getting smaller every night, but it still illuminated the wide expanse between Paley and the ranch house. Night had transformed the familiar landmarks. The creek was liquid steel. The parking lot was a silver desert. The grassy pastures rolled like an ocean.

  She’d forgotten shoes, and the gravel bit at the soles of her feet. Paley hop-stepped to the slick grass and made her way to the back door of the ranch house. She paused, one hand on the porch door, heart pounding.

  Over the noise of the creek, insects hummed and chirped. An owl—at least she hoped it was an owl—called like some weird alien baby. A sleepy chicken gabbled some sleepy chicken dream from inside the coop.

  And a door creaked open.

  Paley froze, listening. The sound hadn’t come from the house.

  Feet crunched on gravel.

  When the sound disappeared, Paley knew whoever it was had followed her across the lawn. The whispery swish of the grass came closer. Paley pressed her body against the side of the ranch house, wondering if her dark blue pajamas would camouflage her.

  Nope. Leila rounded the corner and headed straight toward Paley. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

  Paley exhaled. “Nothing.”

  Leila put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side. “Right. You’re not doing anything in the middle of the night in your pajamas. Not one single thing.”

  “Be quiet. You’ll wake the Bridles.”

  Leila’s eyes sparkled, and she grabbed Paley’s hand. “What’s going on? Is it a heist? Are we taking down the Goodsteins? I’m ready!”

  Paley’s stomach flip-flopped. Leila seemed to really want to help, but she didn’t realize it was too late for them to do anything. “Thomas Goodstein has already won,” said Paley, wrenching her hand free.

  Leila’s face lost its sparkle. “I thought—”

  “Just shut up, okay? You thought wrong.” That came out louder than she meant it to. Her words hung in the air, ugly and irretrievable.

  Leila’s lip trembled. She clasped and unclasped her hands.

  “Go back to bed,” Paley said.

  “Paley?” Leila pleaded, but when Paley refused to meet her eyes, she gave up and turned away.

  Paley didn’t bother to watch her go. There was no time to waste. She eased the back door open and crept down the dark hallway. The door to the office was ajar, and Paley slipped through, easing the door shut behind her.

  She nudged the mouse, and the computer woke up. Ma Etty and Mr. Bridle were so trusting that they didn’t even bother with user passwords on the desktop machine. Paley brought up a browser window and clicked through to the website for Dragonfyre. She’d have to download the program on the Bridles’ crappy Internet connection before she could play. The status bar said it would take over an hour. The Bridles needed a serious speed upgrade.

  Her knee bounced out a steady rhythm as she waited and waited and waited. After twenty minutes she heard a noise upstairs and held her breath, but before long everything was quiet again. She glared at the status bar, willing the download to go faster.

  “Come on. Come on,” she muttered at the screen. This was taking forever. And forever was long enough for her to start having second thoughts. Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled at Leila. Maybe you shouldn’t break the Bridles’ trust. She crushed that internal voice. This was harmless, really. A little fun after the stress of the day. No harm done.

  As the status bar approached 90%, her heart beat faster, abuzz with nervous energy. She pumped her fist at 100% and barely stifled a squeal when the program opened and prompted her for the login and password.

  There was the Blue Elf, as tall and powerful as ever.

  Her dark blue hair swooped as she turned and sprinted through the Misery Marshes. Her long legs sliced through the reeds as she headed for higher ground. The golden foxes lived in the Eivenwode. To retrieve the twelve hairs required to complete the task of the Elder Mage, the Blue Elf would have to find and kill one of the foxes. Paley couldn’t take her hands off the mouse and keyboard long enough to cross her fingers, so she crossed her toes instead, and then crossed her legs for good measure.

  The Blue Elf leaped to the top of a ridge for a better look at her path to the Eivenwode. It was night in-game, and the full moon gave her dark skin a silver sheen. It revealed her.

  Arrows blasted past.

  Paley winced. The Blue Elf crouched and, with a twist, flung herself behind a large boulder.

  More arrows.

  Paley’s heart was racing now. The arrows were green-shafted and yellow-fletched. That could only mean one thing—goblins. The Blue Elf sprang into action. She had to run or she had to fight.

  The Blue Elf always fought.

  P
aley’s hands were sweating. Her attention was focused on the screen. The goblins crept along the rocks, mere smudges of gray in the moonlit night. She counted fifteen. The Blue Elf couldn’t defeat them by sword alone. She prepared a Fire Spell.

  Even as she watched the goblins move into fighting formation, Paley snuck a glance at the wall clock. It was after midnight. She couldn’t believe how long she’d already been here and with so little progress.

  At this rate she’d never make it to the Eivenwode.

  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

  The head of the last goblin rolled over the edge of the cliff, and the Blue Elf dropped her sword, depleted. Paley was panting and her hands hurt from playing for so long.

  She rested her head on the desk.

  Lack of sleep was catching up with Paley, and morning was getting closer every minute. She should go to bed, but this was her only chance to make progress toward the dragon’s egg. Those stupid goblins had messed everything up. Now she would have to replenish the Blue Elf before she could go to the Eivenwode after the foxes. Paley pushed her exhaustion away and was about to get the Blue Elf moving again when the door behind her creaked open.

  In the reflection on the computer screen, Paley could see Ma Etty in the doorway.

  This was bad.

  Paley considered bolting. But even if she could get past Ma Etty, where could she go? Instead, she spun slowly on the desk chair to face the old woman. They stared at each other for a long time.

  Paley squirmed in place. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “I couldn’t help it.”

  Ma Etty shook her head a tiny bit and her normally laugh-happy eyes looked drowned. She might as well have stabbed Paley through the heart. Paley ducked her chin and waited for the yelling to begin. Still nothing from Ma Etty. Paley snuck a look and was surprised to see the old woman looking at the computer screen.

  “Is that your character?” she asked, taking in the Blue Elf, who stood twitching in place without Paley to direct her. Her brilliant hair caught the moon. Goblin blood was smeared on her right bicep.

  Paley nodded.

  “She looks tough. I wouldn’t mess with her.” Ma Etty returned her attention to Paley. “Do you feel better now?”

  That was the last question Paley expected, and she did not know how to answer. It had felt good. More than good. It had felt fantastic to play Dragonfyre, but now when the Misery Marshes were gone, replaced by the ranch office and the chirruping crickets outside, she wasn’t so sure.

  Nothing had changed. Thomas was still after the dinosaur, and no one seemed to really care. Correction. One thing had changed. She was in a heap of trouble. And Ma Etty still required an answer.

  That whole confidence, conviction, courage business—it wasn’t a one-time thing.

  It was for always.

  Paley stood up, stomach churning, and faced Ma Etty. “I don’t feel better. Not at all.” In fact, Paley thought she might puke on the office floor, a move which probably wouldn’t help her out of this mess. “I’m really worried about the fossil, and I tried everything I could think of to get you to let me go out there.”

  Ma Etty’s face softened. “And I still said no.”

  Paley chewed on her lower lip.

  “That must have been very hard for you to hear,” said the old woman.

  Paley didn’t say anything. Little by little, she was sinking into the floor, turning cave troll. Tomorrow she’d have to face Mr. Bridle. Everyone would know what she’d done. She didn’t protest when Ma Etty took her by the arm and led her back to the bunkhouse. Paley climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her head.

  She was never coming out again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Birds started singing before the sun was even up. They were idiots. There was nothing to sing about. Paley’s stomach hurt. Her eyes were red and scratchy. She’d hardly slept, and Mr. Bridle was waiting. She scrunched into the corner of the bunk and curled herself into a ball. Dumb birds.

  Madison whirled through the bunkhouse flipping on lights, pulling off blankets, and talking about how they would be exploring knee guiding in the morning lesson. Leila made a point of not looking Paley’s way, not even once, while she dressed. Even Sundee was up and dressed before Paley dragged herself out of bed.

  During breakfast, Ma Etty talked to everyone but her. Mr. Bridle gave Paley a single eyebrow when he refilled his orange juice, and it was worse than a slap. As everyone was cleaning up, Ma Etty said, in a voice everyone could hear, “Paley, we need to see you in the office.” The cheerful morning chatter vanished.

  She and Mr. Bridle rose together and led the way toward Internal Affairs.

  As Paley slumped after them, Leila met her gaze for the first time all morning. Her lip quirked up in a half-smile, a peace offering with sympathy on top. Paley’s breath caught in her throat. Maybe there was still a chance to make things right. Then in another breath, Leila was gone.

  Paley nibbled on a hangnail.

  Ma Etty gestured for Paley to sit. “First, I want to say that I’m sorry for not listening to you, for not taking your concerns seriously enough. That was wrong of me.”

  Paley held onto the arms of the chair. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t consequences,” added Mr. Bridle.

  Sounds from the arena filtered through the open office window. Panic spiked through Paley. What if her punishment was about Prince? What if she was going to lose him?

  Mr. Bridle cleared his throat. “This ranch operates on trust. Ma Etty and I believed in you.” Paley wished the floor would swallow her up.

  “No riding,” he said.

  “Not forever,” Ma Etty added, noticing the pained look on Paley’s face. “Only for as long as it takes you to stack the load of firewood we’re hauling in for the winter, and as soon as you’re done, you can ride out to the fossil.”

  Paley leaped out of her seat. “For real? I can go?”

  Ma Etty smiled.

  Relief poured through Paley. She could stack wood. No problem. “I’ll start right away!”

  There was a loud rumbling on Bridlemile Road. Ma Etty headed for the door. “You’re in luck,” she said. “The firewood’s here.”

  Paley flew to the back porch to get her boots.

  “Lucky, lucky, lucky,” she sang, as she raced around the house to join Ma Etty. She hadn’t dared to hope that she would get off so easily. She could be at the fossil by midday.

  Or not . . .

  With a roar, the truck operator raised the rear compartment of the vehicle and dumped out the most enormous pile of wood. The heap was three times as big as the ranch van. It towered nearly as tall as the bunkhouse. There was enough wood to make a thousand campfires.

  Paley’s eyes swam with tears. “I can’t do that! It would take me a year to move all that wood.”

  Ma Etty shrugged and said, “You’ll have to figure something out.”

  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

  By the time morning lessons were over, Paley had filled a five foot section of the woodshed. Her shoulders ached, her gloved hands burned, and she hadn’t even made a dent in the pile.

  “That’s a ton of wood,” said Leila, crossing from the barn to Paley’s punishment zone.

  Paley threw another piece in the wheelbarrow. “Maybe two tons.”

  “Bummer,” said Leila. She seemed about to head into the bunkhouse when she turned around and faced Paley. “You know I didn’t tell on you, right?”

  Paley nodded and wiped the sweat from her face. “I know. I wrecked things all by myself. I’m good at that.”

  Leila shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well, good luck,” she said as she turned to go. Paley’s heart ached. She had ruined a lot of things last night, but losing Leila’s friendship was the worst.

  She had to make things right.

  “Leila,” Paley called.

  Her friend
turned slowly. Paley’s apology poured out. “I’m awful. I’m so sorry. I wish I could take everything back. I really want to stay friends.”

  Leila let out her breath and her face lit up. “I’m so glad. Me, too!”

  “You forgive me?”

  “It’s not like I want to go on double dates with Cameron and Sundee.”

  Both girls laughed, and Paley got back to work with renewed energy.

  “Do you really have to move all the wood?” Leila asked.

  “If I want to be allowed to ride out and check the fossil, I do,” said Paley, grasping the handles of the laden wheelbarrow and shoving it toward the woodshed. By now the other kids had joined them. Bryce looked dubiously from the pile of wood to Paley’s small stack in the woodshed.

  “That’s going to take forever,” Sundee smirked. Cameron frowned at her and stepped away.

  Paley finished stacking her load of wood and pushed the wheelbarrow back to the firewood mountain. She restrained herself from running Sundee over. Her back burned as she bent for another piece of wood. When she stood upright, Paley was stunned to see Bryce with a piece of firewood in each hand. Bang! Into the wheelbarrow went the first piece. Bang! In went the second.

  She gaped at him.

  “Don’t get all lazy now!” he barked. “We’ll never get done.”

  “We?”

  He smiled at her.

  “We!” said Leila, picking up a piece of wood. Cameron raced to the barn to find some more gloves, and even Sundee decided to help. By six o’clock, everyone was sunburned and aching, but the wood was stacked—enough for a thousand blizzards.

  All through dinner, Paley jittered with the anticipation of tomorrow’s trail ride, and she fell asleep to dreams of dinosaurs and flying horses.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Over breakfast the next morning, Mr. Bridle clinked his fork against his orange juice glass. When the hubbub around the table died down, he cleared his throat. “Ma Etty and I were pleased to see the way you worked together yesterday.”