Pony Dreams (15 page)

“You'll sleep there,” he said.

I wiggled around to find a spot without too
many rocks and curled up. The reason for his decision soon became
clear when he and Charles lay down on either side of me, and Mark
sat against a saddle a couple of feet away.

The last thing I remembered as my eyes closed
was hearing Blaze whinny. I smiled. He sounded excited about
finally going to The Pony Express.

Chapter
Nineteen

An adobe building
with an attached bunkhouse stood out against the flat desert. The
early October air had a chill in it, but the sun promised a hot
day. Men near the corral stared to the west. Excitement raced
through me when a tiny dust cloud rose, almost too far away to see.
I leaned forward in my saddle.

We'd only spent one night on the trail. The
station was halfway between our ranch and Carson City. By tomorrow
afternoon, I'd be halfway home again, but I didn't want to leave so
fast. More than anything, I wanted to stay right where I was.

“Come here,” Adam ordered.

“Why?” I glared at him. He was making me miss
something important, I was sure of it.

“We have to make sure no one sees your
hair.”

I reluctantly tore my gaze from the dust
cloud and rode over to him. He slapped my braids atop my head and
pulled his kerchief from around his neck. After tying it around my
hair, he shoved my hat back on.

“You're our baby brother, Thomas. I talked to
Pa before we left, and he figured it's not a sin to tell this lie.
It'll protect you until we get back on the trail.” He looked me up
and down. “Just remember to keep your mouth shut.”

A man waved at us from the station. He was
just about the strangest person I'd ever seen. His legs were bowed
like a wishbone, and he kind of rolled when he walked. He wore
dusty, tan britches and a bright red shirt with a blue bandana
around his neck. A beat up flat brimmed hat covered his mostly gray
hair, which hung almost to his shoulders.

Goodness! Ma would whip out her sewing
scissors and give him a haircut not a second after seeing him.

Adam smacked his hat across my back. I glared
at him again.

“One of you open the corral gate,” he said.
“Get the ponies in there, now.”

Charles rode over and swung the gate open.
Waving their hats, Mark and Adam galloped forward. I reached up to
take mine off but remembered how hard Adam had worked to make me
look like a boy. Kicking my horse, I chased the stragglers into the
corral. While swinging the gate closed, Charles grinned at me.

“Looking good, short stuff,” he shouted.

My mouth opened and as quickly closed. Short
stuff was okay for Adam, but the rest them could use my name, even
if it was a boy's.

“Lay off,” Adam said. “Don't you dare bait
Thomas again.”

“Where's your pa?” the strange looking man
yelled.

“He's the stationmaster,” Adam whispered to
me. “Be especially careful around him and his wife. Not much gets
past them.”

I nodded to show I understood and edged my
horse closer to his.

“Took sick,” Mark said. “He divided up the
delivery so we could get you some horses now. Next week the other
group will bring in the ones we caught a few days ago.”

The stationmaster ran over to us, slapping
his hat against his pants. “Who's the youngun? I thought I'd met
all the sprouts your parents produced.”

“Thomas,” Charles said. “He's helping with
the ponies now that he stays in the saddle most of the time.”

A smile blossomed across his face. Just wait
until we left for home. I'd show my brothers who had problems
staying in a saddle.

“Bit of a sloppy rider?” the stationmaster
asked. “Didn't think Michael stood for that.”

“Daydreamer,” Mark said. “This week will
knock it out of him.”

The sound of fast approaching hoof beats
increased my excitement. I finally had the chance to see a Pony
Express rider in action, and I almost said something. At the very
last second, as the words bubbled over my tongue, I remembered
Adam's warning. He took my reins.

“Out of the way,” he said. “Rider coming
in.”

Letting him lead me away, I watched the dust
cloud. It stretched for miles, growing closer and closer by the
minute. A thrumming sound danced across the desert. One of the
riders snagged a horse, settled a wooden saddle across its back,
and held the reins loosely. As the incoming rider dashed into the
clearing, he leapt from his horse and tossed a mochilla—a thing
that looked like half of a leather saddle, with slits to fit over
the cantle and fork—through the air. The waiting rider slung it
across the new mount and bounced into the seat. I released my
breath when the man dashed east. The exchange took less than a
minute.

“We're going inside now,” Adam said. “They
serve a good stew here. I'm pretty sure you're hungry.”

Uncertain how he knew my stomach had started
to chew a hole through my middle, I followed him into the station.
Seeing and hearing all the men talking while they sat at a table
stole any words I might have said while I settled between my
brothers.

The weary rider joined us in the dining room.
No one spoke as the stationmaster's wife kept our plates full of
thick beef stew and fresh biscuits. For desert, slices of dried
apple pie, the best I'd ever tasted. Well, maybe not as good as
Ma's, but I had never eaten one of her pies after riding for two
days.

“You boys are welcome to bunk here for the
night,” the stationmaster said.

Adam, Charles, and Mark sent me worried
looks. The stationmaster's wife glanced from them to me. Her mouth
opened into an O.

“You older boys bed down the ponies,” she
said. “Thomas can help me.”

After the men went outside, the woman drew me
aside.

“What's your name, gal?” she asked.

I gulped.
Ma will tear off my hide. What
did I do wrong?
“How did you know?”

“My husband and I used to go around making
sure the other stationmasters didn't need anything. Since this
place needed someone to run it, we asked the company to let us
stay. In all that time, I've never seen a Weston think twice about
staying the night in the bunkhouse.” She glanced out a window.
“What's going on that your family has to send their daughter on one
of these runs?”

“Pa took sick,” I said. “He's still not doing
well, but Ma thinks he'll be better soon. I'm Abby.”

“You'll sleep in the bedroom beside mine
tonight, Abby. I'm Mrs. Carson.”

The men returned, and Mrs. Carson settled the
matter by speaking quietly with Adam. He threw me an incredulous
glance, but I shrugged. I kept my mouth shut. Her eagle eye had
figured out our deception.

“Are you sure there aren't enough beds for
Thomas?” Mark asked.

“He'll be safe beside me,” Mrs. Carson said.
“Don't you boys worry. You didn't do anything you should be ashamed
of.”

Whoops and hollers disturbed my rest, but I
stayed in bed until Adam called me the next morning.

Chapter Twenty

The rider that came
in yesterday greeted us as he pushed through the horses we had
delivered. Occasionally, he punched one on the nose. I ran up to
him and hung onto his arm after he slugged Blaze.

“What do you think you're doing?” I
screamed.

The man stared at me as my brothers clapped
their hands over their eyes.

“You're a girl,” the rider said.

His surprised exclamation sounded angry,
which was only the tiniest bit of how upset Ma would be. My heart
sank to my toes, oozed out of my boots, and lay on the sand.
Certain I would never have another chance to ride to one of the
stations, I figured I no longer had to bother keeping quiet. I
grinned at the rider.

“You just figuring that out?” I asked. “Mrs.
Carson only took about a minute last night.”

“Abigail Grace Weston, manners,” Adam
said.

I stuck my tongue out at him, and he wagged a
finger back and forth. Facing the rider, I tilted my head back to
look him in the eye.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you dumb,”
I said.

Groans came from my brothers, but the
stranger whooped with laughter.

“You're a right sassy Weston.” He turned to
Adam. “You have any others like her back home?”

“Not unless you count the troublemakers,”
Charles said. “They're more of a pain in the backside.”

At the man's puzzled expression, Mark said,
“Peter and Paul. They're a year older than the runt.”

Even though the rider was smaller than most
of the men in my life, he still towered over me. From the
dumbstruck expression on his face, he wasn't much smarter than them
either.

“So what? I can train a horse better than
anyone else. Ask them.” I flung a hand at my brothers.

The man opened his mouth to answer, but Blaze
snapped at him. Massive white teeth headed in my direction.

“Abby!” Adam screamed. “Duck!”

The rider grabbed me around the waist and
dove into the dirt far from the angry horse. I squirmed out from
under him and leveled a kick at his lower legs. He bounced
backward, wincing and yelling.

“What did you do that for?”

“You hurt a horse I trained,” I hollered. “I
promise them no one will hurt them if they ride hard for The Pony
Express. It takes me near a full day to convince some of those
mustangs to let me on their back, and you break my promises by
punching them. It's not right.”

His hand held out, the man said, “Pony Bob
Haslam. Who are you?”

“Abby Weston,” I said.

“Where's your pa?” he asked.

“Sick,” I said. “But he'll ride again, see if
he doesn't.” Stomping over to Blaze, I stroked his mane. “Don't
worry, you're not in trouble,” I whispered. “That man didn't know
how I teach you to help The Pony Express. You won't hold it against
him, will you?”

He nickered and nuzzled my palm. His gentle
touch reawakened the feelings I had for him. I began to understand
why Pa had never let us name a horse, and Adam's determination to
make me keep Blaze, but nothing would change my mind.

This horse belonged with The Pony. He had the
endurance and speed they needed. As I stepped away, Adam snatched
me up and carried me out of the corral over a shoulder.

“I told you to keep your mouth closed,” he
scolded. “Now everyone knows you're a girl.”

“Wait up.” Pony Bob trotted over to us. “It
wasn't her fault. I hurt the animal.”

“Why?” I asked as Adam set me down.

An adult defending me caused admiration to
ooze from every pore. Maybe Pony Bob wasn't so bad after all,
especially if he kept me out of a peck of trouble when I got
home.

“It's how I know a horse won't quit on me. If
I punch one, and he tries to bite me, I'll ride him. A horse with
that kind of spirit will run his heart out for the company.”

“Come here,” I said.

After taking him back to Blaze, I held his
hand up.

“This man wants you to help him deliver the
mail,” I said. “He needs you to do your best. Can you do that for
me?”

Blaze nodded. The man stared in amazement
from the horse to me.

“Durn, Abby, you can talk to horses. I can't.
They ignore what I tell them and do their own thing. Gal, you have
a great career with The Pony.”

“No she doesn't,” Adam said.

I winced and sidled behind Pony Bob. He
seemed like a nice man.

“Son, don't take away something like that.”
He walked with us back inside the station. “Your little sister's
special. Keep her working with horses because we need what she
does. Those animals you provide always give me a good ride. A
couple a times, they've even let me sleep for a while.”

Mrs. Carson bustled into the room with
platters of sausages and scrambled eggs. Her husband followed with
biscuits heaped high in a basket. I dug into the best breakfast
since leaving home. Pony Bob kept filling my plate and urging me to
eat.

“Don't want my favorite trainer riding home
on an empty stomach,” he said.

Finally, I had to stop when my stomach
threatened to burst. We all left the table and hurried outside. It
was time to go home.

“You gave me something to think about, but I
probably won't change my ways,” he said as my brothers saddled our
horses. “I have to know a horse has some spirit before I get on his
back.”

“Look in his eyes,” I said. “You can see his
spirit there.”

“Rider in!”

The shout turned all attention to a dust
cloud, this time rising from the east. Pony Bob hotfooted it back
inside the bunkhouse and returned with his gear over a shoulder and
two Colt's strapped across his chest. Mark and Charles helped the
stationmaster saddle Blaze.

“Make me proud,” I whispered. “Show them what
we did together.”

When the new rider raced into view, Pony Bob
positioned himself for the pass off.

“See you next time, Abby!” he yelled as the
other rider tossed the
mochilla
containing the mailbag.

“You bet,” I hollered

He raced for the mountains in the distance. I
wished I could go with him.

Chapter
Twenty-One

Pony Bob continued
toward mountains so far away they looked tiny. I held my hand high,
hoping he would look back and return my wave. He kept on riding
until he became a speck against the cactus dotted desert, but he
never looked back.

“Goodbye, Pony Bob,” I whispered. “I hope we
meet again.”

“Which may never happen,” Adam said. “How
could you, Abby? Ma and I both warned you to keep your mouth
shut.”

My happiness fizzled. I should have let the
others deal with Pony Bob.

Holy heck! Ma will rip away my backside.

“It's over and done,” Mark said. “Be best if
we head home before the runt really gets into trouble.”