Katie and the Mustang, Book 4 Read Free Page A

evening camps. Some nights, people just ate, then stared into the flames for five or ten minutes and went along to bed without saying a word to anyone.
    Once in a while, Mrs. Kyler would notice that her granddaughters were ignoring me, and she would repeat her offer to speak to them on my behalf. I always begged her not to. I wasn’t sure I wanted them for friends at all—but even if I did, having her say something to them would hardly help. If anything, it would make them dislike me.
    I envied all the Kyler girls. None of them had lost their parents and a sister like I had. None of them had ever had to live with cruel strangers. The closest misfortune had come to any of them had been Annie’s accident. And as awful as that had been, Annie was probably on the mend, and she had Hiram’s love to see her through. As always, when I thought of Hiram and Annie, I hoped that they were both well and that Annie’s burns were completely healed.
    â€œI hope I can see them again someday,” I whispered to the Mustang. He breathed along the side of my neck, and his breath smelled like sage.
    I glanced back at the wagons. No one could hear me talking to the stallion. “The Kyler girls have to be called over and over for supper,” I said, and I knew it sounded like a petty and ridiculous complaint. But it bothered me when they chased back and forth through the camp, giggling, when I was helping Mrs. Kyler fix supper. They had no sense. One night Hope had kicked dirt into the bean pot. Mrs. Kyler had used a spoon to get most of it out, but I could feel it gritting between my teeth when we ate.
    Toby, the McMahons’ little boy, was better behaved. So were all the Taylor children. The Kylers all doted on their daughters, and they weren’t exactly spoiled, but they were kind of silly-headed, maybe because nothing bad had ever happened to them.
    That thought bothered me. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. “Maybe I’m just jealous,” I said aloud, and the Mustang flicked an ear to hear me better.
    I led the Mustang farther away, settling into my everyday routine of grass finding. The Mustang wasn’t pulling a heavy load or working, but neither were most of Andrew’s horses, and they were all getting thinner.
    Every day that we traveled, grass got scarcer. A number of times we saw some kind of antelope with pronged horns at a distance.
    Twice the Kyler men rode out with their guns to try to kill fresh meat for the party. The first time they came back tired and grumpy; but the second time, they came back with two of the antelope slung over their saddles.
    That night everyone in the party gathered around Mrs. Kyler’s fire. I could tell that she loved it, that the commotion and the laughter—and a good supper that contained no bacon—were a balm to her sore spirits. She loved having people around, she loved joking and laughing and making each one feel welcome.
    My mother had been like that—always ready for company. Watching Mrs. Kyler made me miss her so badly that I had to keep myself busy to keep from crying.
    I didn’t want to spoil Mrs. Kyler’s happy evening. She didn’t have all that many now. I knew she was constantly worried about Annie, left behind in Council Bluff with Hiram. How could she not be worried? Annie’s hands had been burned so badly. And it would be a least a year before Mrs. Kyler would find out how Annie was doing—and probably closer to two years. Letters to and from the Oregon country were slow and uncertain at best.
    I sent a little prayer for Hiram and Annie’s welfare and wished they could have come. Annie had been right that day back in Council Bluff. Hiram was kind. He was the best sort of man—and a good friend. I missed him.

CHAPTER THREE

    It is full summer now, and the grass is sparse
and dry. We do not stop even a day to rest.
There has been no