“Thank you.” Sunny forced a smile. “But I think I can make connections on my own. I’ve already collected some information from my online research.” She glanced outside the wide window over the sink. “Do you mind if I look around your property? I’ve never been on a ranch like this. It’s very interesting.”
“No, not at all.” Cindy opened a bag of tortilla chips, pouring them into a colorful ceramic bowl, which she placed on the island counter. “I hope you’ll make yourself at home, Sunny. Feel free to look around wherever you like.”
“Just steer clear of the bulls,” Aubrey warned. “They can be mean.” “I’ve got some homemade salsa here,” Cindy said as she set a small bowl next to the chips. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Sunny said as she made her way to the back. “Maybe later.”
She just wanted some time to herself. She didn’t realize how unaccustomed she was to so much social interaction. After all, she used to stand in front of a large class, talking for hours of the day. But that had been different. She’d been talking about what she knew, and everything in the classroom had been subject to her control. Not a whole lot like real life, now that she thought about it. Perhaps her grandmother hadn’t been the only one to overprotect Sunny. Perhaps Sunny had done some self-insulation as well.
Chapter Eight
Sunny liked the smell of the farm—a wholesome, earthy mix of soil, animals, and growing things. She heard what sounded like the nickering of horses and, curious to see more, went around the side of one of the barns to find a pasture, corral, and large riding arena. About a dozen horses or more, mostly shades of brown, grazed contentedly in the pasture, and another horse, a shiny black one, was trotting around the arena with a young girl in the saddle.
Sunny knew this must be Cindy’s granddaughter, Echo. So far the girl seemed unaware that she was being watched as she rode with a straight back and fixed concentration, skillfully directing the horse to the right and then to the left. She wore a purple sweatshirt and a red helmet; her long, thick, brown ponytail bounced behind her. Her boots were practical looking and covered with dust; her jeans, Wranglers, looked well worn. Standing in the shadows close to the barn, Sunny watched, mesmerized. The girl’s grace in the saddle and control over the horse were quite impressive. Sunny assumed that she’d inherited her mother’s skills as a horsewoman. It seemed understandable that her grandfather would have high hopes for her to be a Round-Up queen someday.
“Who are you?” the girl called out suddenly when she finally observed her audience of one.
“I’m Sunny Westcott,” she replied. “A friend of your aunt Aubrey.”
The girl’s eyes lit up as she walked her horse closer. “Aunt Aubrey is here?”
“She’s in the house with your grandmother.”
“How do you know who I am?” The girl leaned over slightly to peer down at Sunny.
Sunny smiled. “I just assumed you’re Echo. Your grandmother said you were out here riding.”
Echo nodded and sat straighter, patting the horse on the side of the neck. “And this is Sylvester. He’s mine.”
“He’s beautiful.” Aubrey nodded. “What kind of horse?” “Quarter horse.” Echo nodded toward the grazing horses. “The only kind of horse my grandpa owns.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t know much about horses, do you?”
Sunny chuckled. “No. Not much.”
“Have you ever ridden?”
She shook her head. “I always wanted to ride, as a child. But, well, I was pretty much raised by my grandmother, and she had a phobia of horses. She was certain I’d get hurt or killed if I ever got on one.”
“Are you part Indian?”
Sunny tried not to look offended by the blunt question. After all, Echo was only a child. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
“I thought so.” Echo nodded.
“I don’t know much about horses,” Sunny said, “but it looks to me like you’re a very good rider.”
Echo smiled. “Thanks.”
“And I don’t want to interrupt your ride.”
Echo’s eyes lit up. “Hey, do you want to ride too?”
Sunny didn’t know what to say. “I, uh, I don’t know.”
“I can get a horse saddled up for you if you want. I’d pick a real gentle one.”
Sunny couldn’t even imagine herself on a horse—and yet she wondered.
“We could stay in the corral if you like. It’s small.”
“Okay,” Sunny said suddenly. “Why not?”
“All right.” Echo pointed to the barn-like building attached to the corral. “You go through over there, and I’ll meet you inside the stables, okay?”
Sunny nodded and walked over to where there was an opening, then walked into the shadowy corridor of what did turn out to be stables.
“Down here,” Echo called. “We’ll saddle up Brownie Anne for you. She’s twenty-two years old and a real sweetheart.”
And, just like that, Sunny found herself in a stall with Echo and Brownie Anne, watching as Echo went to work. “This is a halter,” she said as the horse lowered its head into the leather nose band. Echo slipped leather straps behind the horse’s ears and fastened it. “And this is the lead rope,” she explained as she snapped a rope onto the halter. “If you want, I could use a longe line, but Brownie Anne is so gentle, I don’t think we need to.”
“I trust your judgment.”
Now Echo slid open the stall door and led the horse out to the alleyway, where she loosely looped the lead rope on a hook. Now she opened the door to what looked like another stall, but instead of a horse inside, it was full of saddles and horse equipment. “This is the tack room,” Echo said as she turned on the light.
Before long, Sunny was learning how to use a curry comb to get the horse’s back ready. Then how to arrange a saddle blanket, and how to place the saddle on top of that. Finally, how to tighten a cinch—and how to tighten it again when the horse let the air out of her belly. After that, Echo held up another set of leather straps trimmed in silver. “This is a bridle,” she informed Sunny. “This is what you use when you actually ride.” Now she exchanged the halter for the bridle, finally placing the reins in Sunny’s hands.
“This is very educational,” Sunny told Echo. “You’re a good teacher.”
“Thanks.” Echo smiled. “Okay, then, let’s go out to the corral.” Sunny felt a flutter of nerves and excitement as she stood next to the saddled horse out in the corral.
“You always get on a horse from the left side,” Echo told her. “Watch, I’ll show you how.” Then, with her left hand on the saddle horn, Echo lifted her left leg, planted her foot in the stirrup and gracefully swung her right leg over the saddle and sat.
“You make it look so easy,” Sunny said.
“Because it is.” With equal grace, Echo got off the horse. “And you’re taller than me, so it should be even easier for you.”
“Okay.” Sunny nodded as she grasped the saddle horn and tried to imitate Echo. Next thing she knew, she was on top of the horse. “Wow.” She looked down at Echo. “I did it.”
Echo grinned. “You did.” Now she helped her loop the reins around the horse’s head. “It’s simple—steer right and left. You don’t have to pull hard. Just the touch of the rein on the opposite side of her neck and she’ll turn. She’s a good horse.” Then Echo was on top of her horse and next to Sunny. “Give her a gentle squeeze with your knees—or simply click your tongue and she’ll start moving.”
Sunny did as Echo instructed, and the big animal began to slowly move. “Hey, it works,” she said happily. She was surprised at how unafraid she was as the horse walked around the corral. Really, it was a good feeling, swaying in the saddle, being up high. Sunny thought maybe she could get used to this.
“You look like a natural,” Echo told Sunny. Then she continued to coach Sunny, helping her to steer the horse, stop the horse, and even to make her back up.
“This is really
fun,” Sunny told her. “You’re a great teacher, Echo.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you think I’m ready to try anything faster than walking?” “It’s up to you.”
And so, with a little help from Echo, they moved the horses into the arena and soon Sunny had the horse trotting.
“Try to follow the moves of the horse,” Echo told her. “Move your body up and down as she moves hers.”
While trotting felt less secure than walking, it was a fun challenge to try to match the horse’s movements. After a few times around the arena, she was getting it. “This is good exercise,” she told Echo when they stopped to walk for a bit.
“I guess so.”
“Do you think I should try to gallop on her?”
“It’s up to you,” Echo said again.
Then with Echo’s help, Sunny soon had the horse going from a trot into a gallop. She couldn’t believe how much smoother that gallop was, compared to the trot. In a way it felt like she was flying— and she loved it.
“Hey, cowgirls!” Aubrey waved from the other side of the arena. “Let ’er buck!”
“Hopefully not,” Sunny said as she slowed the horse to a trot and then a walk, going over to where Aubrey was standing.
“I didn’t know you rode.” Aubrey looked up at Sunny.
“I didn’t either.”
“Hi, Aunt Aubrey,” Echo said as she came over to join them. Aubrey climbed up and sat on the top rail of the arena fence. “Hey there, gorgeous,” she said to Echo. “You get prettier every time I see you.”
Echo rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“Seriously, Sunny, when did you take up riding?”
“Just now. Echo is an excellent teacher.”
“Maybe for you,” Aubrey said, “but I am hopeless. Horses can smell the fear on me as soon as my hind end hits the saddle. Then they usually try to get rid of me about that fast too.”
“Brownie Anne wouldn’t do that,” Echo told her.
Aubrey shook her head. “She would, and she has.”
“But that was probably when she was younger,” Echo tried.
“I was younger then too. And now I’m old enough to know that horses and I don’t mix. End of story. But at least I supplied a friend for you to ride with.”
“Sunny’s a natural.” Echo patted Brownie Anne’s neck.
“Thanks to your help.” Sunny smiled happily. “I can’t believe how much fun it is to ride. Do you think I could get good enough to ride outside of the arena?”
“Sure—you’re good enough now.”
“Really?”
Echo nodded, then glanced at her watch. “I’d offer to go with you now, but Dad’s going to be here any minute. And we still need to put the horses away.”
“Hey, I’ll take care of your dad,” Aubrey offered. “I’ll tell him that you guys have to stay for dinner. Mom already mentioned that anyway. You cowgirls go have yourself a ride, and I’ll take the blame.”
Echo’s eyes lit up. “Okay.”
The next thing Sunny knew, she and Echo were riding their horses out alongside the freshly cut hayfield.
“We’ll ride down to the creek,” Echo explained. “Grandpa likes us to stay along the fence line here, so I’ll take the lead. Watch out for gopher holes. Usually the horses avoid them, but you need to be ready in case they don’t.”
“Okay.” Sunny watched Echo riding ahead of her, trying to mimic her ways with the horse and totally enjoying the entire experience. She couldn’t believe she’d waited until her mid-thirties before ever getting on a horse. But at least she’d done it.
They made it to the creek, then dismounted, giving the horses a chance to drink.
“Looks like the sky is clearing up,” Sunny told Echo. “Yeah, it’s supposed to start getting hot again.”
“So do you live around here?” Sunny asked.
“We live on the reservation.”
“Really?”
“My dad runs my grandpa’s ranch.”
“Your grandfather has another ranch?”
“It’s my other grandpa. My dad’s dad. He lives on the ranch too, but he’s too old to do much. So Dad and I take care of most of the chores. We only have eighty acres and some livestock. Nothing like this place.” She waved her arm toward the golden wheat fields west of them.
“But it’s on the reservation?” Sunny queried. “Does that mean you’re Native American?”
“You don’t have to be an Indian to live on the reservation,” Echo said as she led her horse away from the creek, pausing to check the cinch on her horse’s saddle, explaining that it could loosen after a short ride.
“So white people can own reservation land?” Following Echo’s lead, Sunny moved her horse away from the creek and checked her cinch too.
“They can. But the Indians don’t really like it.”
“I can understand that.” Now Sunny focused her attention on getting safely back onto the horse. Echo might think she was a natural, but the truth was, Sunny was really concentrating and trying hard. She didn’t want to end up with any broken bones.
“Want to try galloping back to the horse barn?”
“Sure, if you think I can handle it.”
“I think you can, but you need to be comfortable with it. And I didn’t notice any gopher holes, so I think we should be okay. But hang onto the saddle horn as much as you need to.”
“Right.”
“And if you want to slow down, feel free.” Then, just like that, Echo and Sylvester took off in a fast gallop. Sunny had barely clicked her tongue when Brownie Anne took off after them. Sunny gave her full concentration to riding now, feeling the thrill and the rush of the horse beneath her, enjoying every second…and at the same time hoping she’d remain seated on the horse. A part of her was in shock that she was actually doing this, while another part could almost believe she’d been riding horses her whole life. Then, too soon, they were back at the horse barn.
“I don’t see Dad around,” Echo said as they walked the horses into the alleyway by the stalls. “Hopefully he’s not mad at me.”
“Well, if he is, let Aubrey and me take the blame.”
Echo laughed as she snapped a lead rope on and looped it over the hook. “Right. Maybe Dad will ground you.”
“Your dad would ground you for being late like this?”
“No, I was kidding.” She grinned as she snapped a lead rope onto Brownie Anne, hooking it about a horse’s length away from Sylvester. “My dad’s actually a real softie. Most of my friends think he spoils me. I think it’s just his way.”
Sunny wondered briefly how different her life might’ve been if she’d lost only one parent and been raised by the other. Then Echo, working on her own horse, was instructing Sunny how to remove the saddle, slide it down, and carry it back to the tack room, where she set them over some big blue barrels. Then they removed the blankets, brushed the horses down, checked their hooves, gave them a squirt of fly spray, then returned them to their stalls, removed the halters, and gave them hay, grain, and water.
“I always feed and water the other horses when I’m here too,” Echo explained as she went into another stall. “This is Hero, but he’s not real friendly, so you better wait out there.” Sunny helped by bringing “flakes” of hay and refilling the grain can, and before long, they were done.
“I feel like I just went to horse school,” Sunny told Echo as they walked back to the house.
“I’d give you an A today.”
Sunny laughed. “Thanks.”
“If you’re around, I’ll be out here every day after school until Round-Up if you want to ride some more.”
“I’d love to. But I’ll have to check my schedule.”
“Oh, that’s right. Grandma said you and Aubrey are modeling for the Pendleton catalog. Is that fun?”
Sunny shook her head. “Fun? No, I wouldn’t exactly describe it as fun. I’m not really a model, you know, not like your aunt is. I’m just trying to make a
few extra bucks until I find a new job.”
“And there’s my little renegade now,” a male voice called from the shadows of the back deck.
Echo broke into a big smile as they went up the steps to the deck. “Hey, Dad,” she sang out sweetly, “you’re not mad at me, are you?”
Sunny spotted a guy wearing a cowboy hat coming toward them now. Dressed in western wear, he was of medium build and looked about six feet tall.
“Sunny, this is my dad, Cody Barrett,” Echo said politely. “Dad, this is Aunt Aubrey’s friend Sunny.”
He stuck out a weathered-looking hand and smiled. “Pleasure to meet you, Sunny.” His sandy-colored hair, tinged with gray, fringed out from beneath his hat.
“You too.” She looked into his eyes as they shook hands. Golden brown, they were exact replicas of his daughter’s…or vice versa. His face was lined and tanned; his smile seemed warm and genuine.
“I hear Echo’s giving you riding lessons.”
Sunny nodded. “Your daughter’s an excellent teacher.”
“I just gave Sunny an A for her first riding class,” Echo told him. He studied Sunny closely. “Your first riding class? Does that mean you’d never been on a horse before?”
“Never,” she admitted.
“But Sunny’s a natural,” Echo told him. “Probably because she’s part Indian.”
“You mean Native American,” he said gently.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Her dad looked at his daughter’s hands now. “Hey, you better go wash up. Grandma could probably use a hand setting the table since we’re crashing her dinner party.”
Sunny glanced over to the bunkhouse. “I should go wash up too.” She smiled at him. “It was a pleasure to meet you—and your daughter too.” But as she turned to walk toward the bunkhouse, he came with her.
“Cindy mentioned you want to do some research on the reservation,” he said casually.
“That’s right. I do.”
Love Finds You in Pendleton, Oregon Page 7