Katie and the Mustang, Book 3 Read Free Page A

responsible for ruining everyone’s meal.
    I heard Mrs. Kyler banging around in the jockey box that was mounted on the side of their wagon. Hiram and I had packed our kitchen goods inside our little farm wagon, but it was much harder to pack and unpack one of these high, covered freight wagons. Most of the women kept their kitchens in the wooden boxes.
    â€œThere it is!” Mrs. Kyler said, holding up a slotted spoon. “This lets the water run out when I serve up the plates. Two of my boys hate sloppy beans.”
    I stirred, watching her work, admiring the everyday grace in her worn, stained hands. She tore thick handfuls of grass and laid it flat to get it out of her way and to make a clean place to set her tins and utensils. She spread a cloth and set a butter crock on it, then glanced up at me.
    â€œMelted from the sun, and it’ll be rancid in two days, but I traded for it in Kanesville—thought it’d be a nice surprise tonight.” She pushed back the cloth on the biscuit box and stood up, pressing her hands against the small of her back. “All leftovers. Supper’s simple to fix tonight.” She stood looking upward at the darkening sky, stretching, then leaned over and slipped her pot stick through the arch of the bale, and lifted the heavy pot off the fire.
    â€œCome and get supper!” she shouted, skimming the side of the pot with the ladle three or four times before she started dishing up the food.
    In minutes, I was surrounded by Kylers. I took my plate and backed away, finding a spot beside one of the wagon wheels where I could lean back a little and eat in comfort. The beans tasted good. Anything tastes good when you are hungry enough, but Mrs. Kyler did make good beans—not too salty. She must have washed some of the salt out of the bacon before she cut it up.
    â€œHow are your feet?”
    I looked up, startled to see Julia standing over me. “Fine.”
    â€œThey aren’t sore?” she asked. “Mine are bruised all over.”
    I shook my head. “I walked most the way from Scott County barefoot.”
    â€œJulia!” one of the girls called. I looked past Julia and saw Polly and Hope. They were standing with two other girls I didn’t know. They weren’t Kylers. I had never seen them before.
    â€œJulia!” Polly called again. “What are you doing? Come on!”
    Julia shook her head. “She’s bossy. She’s the oldest cousin, so she thinks she can tell the rest of us what to do.”
    I nodded like I understood perfectly, but the truth was, I didn’t. If I had any cousins, they were in Oregon, and I had never met them. I didn’t know whether they were boys or girls.
    Polly started off, then glanced back at me. For an instant, I thought she might ask me to come with her, but she didn’t. I felt a little stab of disappointment, but I knew it was silly. I had to help out. I had to earn my way with the Kylers. I didn’t want to be beholden to them for anything if I could help it.
    I finished my food, then went and checked on the Mustang while Mr. Kyler and his sons ate their seconds. They all laughed and joked as they ate, comparing complaints and worries, teasing one another.
    I helped clean the plates. It wasn’t hard. Everyone had been hungry enough to practically lick the tins clean. Mrs. Kyler showed me a trick—a way to twist a hank of grass into a pot scrub. We used as little water as we possibly could, washing the tins in a shallow tin basin, one after the other. When the plates were done, Mrs. Kyler restacked everything in the jockey box and closed the heavy lid.
    Then she sighed and came back to the fire. “I think we can leave what’s left in the pot beside the fire until morning,” she said, pushing her hair back from her forehead. “There’s two wagons with dogs, but Mr. Teal said they had to be tied up at night.”
    â€œI didn’t see any dogs,”