Shy Girl & Shy Guy (Quartz Creek Ranch)

by Amber J. Keyser

  Madison let out a frustrated breath. “Well, I’m glad you’re all right,” she said. “So no big deal. But don’t leave again without telling anyone where you’re going, okay?”

  “Okay,” said Hanna. “I’m sorry.”

  Madison shrugged and shook her head. “Let’s head back. It’s lunchtime anyway.”

  Izzy rolled her eyes. “Great. I only got to ride for, like, five minutes.”

  “Come on,” said Madison, giving Izzy a look. “Let’s go help Ma Etty set the table. We’ll discuss this later.”

  Izzy sighed and ran on ahead, joining the other kids in the front as they started walking back to the ranch.

  Madison took up step next to Hanna like she was afraid Hanna might run off again. Hanna knew she should say something—apologize again for worrying her and Fletch, maybe—but all she could think about was the silver horse hiding in the trees.

  So Hanna wasn’t the only one on this ranch afraid of something. But what had made that beautiful horse so frightened?

  Chapter Four

  Before lunch could start, Ma Etty, Fletch, and Madison walked into the living room to talk, while Mr. Bridle got the kids seated at the table. Ma Etty’s eyes occasionally flicked to Hanna. She knew by the sinking, nauseated feeling in her stomach that they were discussing her.

  Would they send her home? That would be a relief, but her mother would be furious. We spent all this money on that camp, and you couldn’t even stick with it for one day?

  “So, Hanna, I’m just curious,” Izzy said with a slight smile. “How do you ‘accidentally’ wander off?”

  Rae Ann giggled.

  “It’s like, oops! How did I end up way out here? Must have been an accident! Couldn’t have been my feet or anything.”

  Cade reluctantly laughed too. Izzy was on a roll, and Hanna wanted to crawl under the table and die.

  “I mean, seriously.” Izzy’s gaze pressed Hanna for a response. “Do your feet usually just do whatever they want?”

  The laughter tapered off.

  “Izzy,” said Josh. “Leave it alone.”

  “What? I can’t be curious?”

  “He’s right,” said Cade. “Let it go.”

  “Jeez, guys.” Izzy huffed. “Way to take all the fun out of everything.”

  Luckily, Ma Etty and the others returned just as lunch was served, and Izzy was forced to give up. Hanna tried to pretend that she hadn’t even heard, but scarfing down green beans and tater tots at top speed didn’t help calm her stomach. She wished she could be like that beautiful, frightened horse and gallop away into the trees.

  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

  In the afternoon, Madison handed out chores to everyone. Izzy and Cade helped Fletch move hay with Paul, the blond, mustachioed ranch manager, who reminded Hanna of Brad Pitt—if he were a cowboy from Colorado. Rae Ann fed and cared for the chickens with Ma Etty’s help, and Hanna and Josh were put on garden duty.

  Hanna let out a relieved breath to not be working with any of the animals after her disastrous morning with the horses. And an hour into mostly silent laboring on their knees in the dirt, Hanna decided she liked Josh. He was a fish out of water at the ranch, same as her; obviously from the city; and not a big talker. For a long while, the silence was comfortable.

  “Fletch told me what that mountain’s called,” Josh said suddenly, nodding to the butte.

  “Really?” said Hanna. “What is it?”

  “Fool’s Butte,” he said. “I guess ’cause when prospectors started findin’ quartz here, they thought they’d hit gold—they go together or somethin’. So they started up this whole town. Wasn’t till they’d already dug up half the mountain that they realized there wasn’t any gold at all.”

  “So that made them the ‘fools’?” asked Hanna.

  Josh shrugged. “Guess so.”

  She laughed. “I like your accent. Where are you from again?”

  Hands black with dirt, he tossed a few more weed roots onto the pile. “Tennessee. Nashville. You?”

  “Little place in Michigan called Sturgis.” Hanna pulled out a weed, but only the leaves came off in her hand, leaving the rest of the stem stubbornly poking out of the ground. “Dang it. That keeps happening.”

  “You have to get it by the roots, and once you’ve got it, pull up slow-like.” He showed her how to pinch the plant at its base and then tug out the entire thing, roots and all. Then he tossed the weed into the growing pile.

  “You’re good at this,” said Hanna.

  “Pull a lot of weeds in Nashville.” Josh shrugged. “It’s Mom’s favorite thing to make me do when she grounds me.”

  “You get grounded a lot?”

  “First four times she caught me smokin’, I got grounded.” Josh held up four fingers on one hand and then lifted the last one. “Fifth time, I got sent here.”

  Wow. Smoking? Josh couldn’t be much older than Hanna, and she’d never even considered stealing a cigarette.

  Hanna heard someone calling her name. She sat up and peered over Josh’s head, and spotted Ma Etty waving at her from the edge of the garden.

  Oh, no. She didn’t know what Ma Etty wanted to say, but it couldn’t be good. Hanna’s spirits plummeted into the dirt.

  “Hanna!” the old woman called again, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Can I speak with you? Josh, why don’t you take a break inside and have some water. It’s important to stay cool and hydrated when it’s this hot.”

  Once Josh had gone inside, Ma Etty linked her arm with Hanna’s, like they were old friends.

  “Why don’t we go for a walk?” she asked.

  “Uh, sure,” Hanna managed. Her mouth had suddenly dried up like a desert.

  Leaving the garden behind them, Ma Etty led her out onto the gravel road that the van had come in on yesterday. She headed north, past the ranch house, toward the bunkhouses. Afternoon was in full swing and the sun beat down with all its June ferocity, making Hanna sweat even more.

  Ma Etty adjusted her straw hat. “I heard what happened.”

  Tears burned their way from Hanna’s throat, to her jaw, to the back of her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Ma Etty. I told my mom not to send me here. I told her it was a bad idea, and she wouldn’t listen. She wants me to be this great horse rider she can show off to her friends . . .” Then the tears broke through, despite Hanna’s best efforts to keep them in, and filled her eyes so thoroughly the world became a blur. “I tried to tell her, Ma Etty. I did!”

  Ma Etty didn’t interrupt, but she turned Hanna to face her and settled a hand on her shoulder.

  “I can’t ride,” Hanna managed between sobs. “I can’t. Mom was wrong when she told you I love horses. She doesn’t understand.”

  “Parents never do, do they?” Ma Etty’s voice was so quiet, so soft and full of knowing, that it shocked Hanna into silence. “But that doesn’t change that you’re here now, Hanna. You’re at this ranch, in my care, for a reason. And I see that reason right in front of me.” Gently, Ma Etty reached out and tucked a stray lock of Hanna’s long blonde hair behind her ear. Hanna couldn’t look at her, too afraid of seeing disappointment on her face, too afraid of seeing pity there. But as the silence drew on, she finally did.

  And Ma Etty was gazing at her with such kindness, such hope, and such . . . admiration? Hanna thought for a moment that maybe Ma Etty was looking at a mountain behind her.

  “What’s the reason?” asked Hanna, her voice trembling.

  “I see such a kind, smart, sensitive girl here,” said Ma Etty. “I see a girl with so much heart that sometimes, she’s afraid. Sometimes things intimidate her.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. It made her look years younger, not older. “That’s not a bad thing. I don’t think your mother intended to hurt you by sending you here, Hanna. I think she wanted something new and better for you. I think she wanted you to grow, and she knew you could do that here, with people who can listen and help.”

  “Except for Izzy,” sa
id Hanna with a sniffle.

  Ma Etty gave a small chuckle. “Izzy’s got a good heart. In fact, I think you two are more alike than you think.” She took Hanna’s arm again and resumed walking. They made their way toward the little path that bridged the creek. The musty old barn stretched up into the sky on the other side. “Hanna, what would you say to me giving you something else to do in place of riding lessons?”

  It was so unexpected and so much more than Hanna could have hoped for, she couldn’t respond at first.

  “Yes!” she said. “Yes, please, oh please, yes.” Then she paused. “But . . . it’s a riding camp. Can you do that?”

  “Can I do that?” repeated Ma Etty. Then she broke out into a very un-old-lady-like giggle. “Of course. I can do whatever I want on my ranch. And if the idea of being near a horse is so frightening that it makes you run like a spooked horse yourself, well—I’m not in the business of forcing children to do things that bring them to tears.”

  Self-consciously Hanna wiped at her tear-streaked cheeks, but Ma Etty shook her head. “It’s okay, Hanna. We all have our fears. Seeing a daddy longlegs has reduced me to tears more than once.”

  “Really? A spider?”

  “Yep. Can’t stand ’em. All those long, spindly legs and beady eyes and . . .” Ma Etty shuddered. “Having fears is part of being human. But we don’t have to be slaves to them. We are capable of living relatively normal lives despite our fears. I mean, if I couldn’t keep it together every time I saw a spider? Look where we are.” She gestured at the huge old barn, the grass, and the trees. “Bugs everywhere! I’d be hopeless. So I had to learn how to manage my arachnophobia and work around it. I had to learn how to ask for help so I could get through the day.”

  “Who do you ask?”

  “Mr. Bridle, of course. When I see a spider now, I call for him. He’ll move the spider so I can get on with things. And knowing Will’s there to back me up? It helps. Now I can even put a cup over the spider while I wait for him.” She looked genuinely proud of this accomplishment and made Hanna feel less silly about the fear that had torn through her when she saw Lacey.

  “But I don’t know how to do that,” said Hanna. “Who can I ask for help with a horse?”

  “Growing up is about learning just that. I’ll help you. Let me be your Mr. Bridle for now. I’m happy to rescue you when you’re scared. Little by little, I’m sure we can find a way for you to be happy and healthy on this ranch. And we’ll start by giving you jobs you can manage, okay?”

  Hanna nodded almost imperceptibly.

  “Tomorrow, when the others go to lessons, I’ll show you some new things you can do. It’ll be all right, Hanna.” They turned around and headed back to the garden in silence. Josh stood drinking water by the pile of weeds.

  “Remember,” said Ma Etty, “dinner’s in an hour.”

  Then she waved good-bye and went inside. Hanna could feel that her eyes were red and puffy, but Josh didn’t ask about them. Instead, he offered Hanna some water.

  “Hydrate,” he said and returned to weeding. As Hanna drank, she watched Ma Etty’s strong back, trying to imagine how a little spider could make a woman like that cry.

  Chapter Five

  Izzy kept to herself that night in the girls’ cabin, and Hanna was thankful. There was one thing Ma Etty had been wrong about: Hanna and Izzy were absolutely nothing alike.

  In the morning, the other kids buzzed with excitement about their upcoming riding lesson. As Madison and Fletch herded them out of the dining room, Hanna stayed behind. Izzy cast her an indecipherable look as she slipped out the door.

  Ma Etty appeared a few minutes later dressed in muddy overalls. “Ready for your new duties, Hanna?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Hanna expected them to milk cows or maybe feed the goats, but Ma Etty led her to the horse barn. Hanna’s stomach performed a fabulous backflip.

  Seeing her face, Ma Etty said, “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to do anything you can’t do.”

  Inside the barn, the scent of animal and leather made Hanna want to walk right back out again. She tried to visualize putting Lacey the horse under a cup, like a spider. It helped a little.

  In the tack room, saddles of all sizes sat on racks, and halters and bridles dangled from hooks. Ma Etty opened a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of leather cleaner, a handful of rags, and a bucket.

  “It’s been a while since any of us had time to care for the tack,” she said. “But good tack makes for safe horses and happy riders. Why don’t you start with the saddles?”

  Hanna nodded. Easy enough.

  Ma Etty showed her how to pour cleaner on the rag and rub the saddle leather. Once Hanna got the idea, she took over.

  This was a job she could do. A tremulous warmth seeped into her as Ma Etty left her to her work. The repetition of scrubbing made her think of running, of her feet pounding the ground as they carried her to safety.

  Through the door, she could hear the horses eating and stomping, but it didn’t frighten her.

  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

  That afternoon Madison took them to see the bees.

  Everyone was excited except Rae Ann. She stood ramrod straight and refused to take another step toward the cloud of bees buzzing around the white bee boxes on the edge of the garden, even though the kids had all been outfitted in head-to-toe, bee-proof suits.

  “They don’t actually want to sting you,” said Madison, who now waded into the swarm toward the first box. “And they won’t unless you give them a reason to. They’ll only sting when they’re irritated.”

  Rae Ann adjusted her huge helmet and made an awful face.

  “Won’t they be irritated if you start stealing their honey?” said Izzy. She didn’t appear to be afraid, though, and followed right behind Madison.

  “That’s what the gloves are for.”

  Hanna flexed her hands inside the thick gloves and picked up the empty cardboard box intended for hauling honeycomb. Collection was her assigned job, and after gulping air for good luck, Hanna waded after the others into the swarm.

  The low hum of buzzing bees engulfed her. They landed all over her, tasting the suit’s nylon fabric with their long, curled noses. No, not noses. Proboscises? Hanna remembered her sixth-grade science teacher calling them that.

  “They’re furry!” Cade cooed at one that had landed on his outstretched hand. “Like tiny hamsters.”

  “Tiny hamsters that will sting you!” cried Rae Ann, who still hadn’t moved an inch.

  “Cool,” said Cade. “Let’s keep one as a pet.”

  “A lot of people keep bees,” said Madison as she opened the lid of the first bee box and set it aside.

  “Who would put bees in their backyard?” asked Izzy. “Sounds dangerous.”

  “I’d rather have a cat!” called Rae Ann.

  “Bees won’t sting if you don’t disturb them,” said Madison. “Bees are pollinators. Without them, lots of plants don’t reproduce. We wouldn’t have fruits or vegetables without bees! Hanna, come over here with that empty box.”

  Hanna would have to venture deeper into the bee swarm, but with every inch of her covered in that dense, sting-resistant fabric, she was fine. She carried the box to Madison, who took frames full of dark orange honeycomb out of the beehives and began placing them inside it. If any bees were still clinging to it, she wiped them off, and they harmlessly buzzed away.

  When the box of honeycomb was full and the beehive empty, Madison called for Josh. “The new frames, please!”

  They did this for almost an hour, trading empty boxes for full ones as Madison made her way from beehive to beehive. There were six hives, and halfway through, Rae Ann suddenly spoke from her spot at the edge of the garden.

  “You don’t look stung,” she said, surveying Hanna’s suit.

  Hanna smiled. “Nope. Not a single sting.” Ma Etty was right. Everyone was afraid of something.

  Rae Ann gazed out into the swarm. “I d
on’t think my mom would like this,” she said. Then she took a single, cautious step toward the buzzing swarm of bees. Inside her helmet her face was puckered and red, and she was biting her lower lip. After a step into the swarm, Rae Ann paused, as if waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.

  Another step. Hanna offered her one thick, suited arm, and Rae Ann seized it. A horde of bees on a mission to pollinate buzzed by, and Rae Ann let out a squeak, squeezing her eyes shut.

  The bees passed, and when Rae Ann opened her eyes again, she was unharmed.

  “Whoa,” she said.

  “Yeah, right?” Hanna picked up a box of empty frames. “Do you want to give these to Madison?” Rae Ann hesitated and then nodded. She let go of Hanna’s arm and took the box. Expression resolute, she ventured into the humming cloud of bees like an explorer into an arctic storm. She stopped and paused a few times, shoulders shaking, but eventually made her way over to Madison.

  In the mass of bees somewhere, Izzy yelled, “Glad you could make it to the party, Rae Ann!”

  “My parents would never allow this,” Rae Ann moaned.

  Izzy barked a laugh. “Luckily, they aren’t here!”

  Hanna heard a squeaky voice in her ear. “I didn’t see you during our riding lesson today.” She turned to find Cade standing behind her.

  “Yeah,” Hanna said. “Ma Etty gave me, um, something else to do.”

  “Something besides riding? That’s weird. I thought everyone was supposed to ride. It’s like our therapy.”

  Hanna forced out a laugh. “I guess I don’t need therapy.”

  Cade frowned. “But isn’t that why you’re here? Because you stole stuff? Said so yourself.”

  Hanna swallowed. So far, none of the other kids had started this conversation. No one wanted to talk about what they’d done wrong, so nobody had asked. And she had preferred it that way.

  “It’s not a big deal,” said Hanna evasively.

  “Huh.” Cade tilted his head. “Back in California, I beat a kid up.”

  What? This scrawny, freckled little guy couldn’t be a fighter. He probably weighed half as much as Hanna, and she was pretty gangly herself.