Pony Dreams (17 page)

“Albert and Daniel did it to each side,” Bart
announced.

“Your pa stacked them on the porch,” Paul
said. “Everyone in these parts knows Westons don't lie.”

“You don't lie, do you?” Gabriel smirked.
“What about the big one you told Abby for ten years? I bet she
hates you for that.”

“They did it to protect me,” I screamed.

“Best you hush your mouth, boy,” Sheriff Cove
suggested. “A couple of other men spoke to me while Bart and I rode
out here. Bill Adams and Zeke Stallings saw what you did.”

Someone other than my family knew he had
destroyed our house and murdered Ma, Pa, and Peter. Now Sheriff
Cove could do something about it.

“Liars!” he shouted. “No one saw us. They're
just tryin' to keep us from takin' the Pony contract.” Gabriel
glared at me. “You'll pay, gal. Ain't no woman gonna best a
Johnson.”

Before I discovered what he meant, shots rang
out. Rocks exploded and pebbly bits showered us. Adam gathered
rifles from the horses tethered to the fence, in spite of how they
fought him.

“Bart, Charles, here!” Adam tossed the
weapons to them.

Mark crawled toward me while I stared in
amazement at the glints coming from behind the barn.

“Abby, drop to the ground,” Bart howled.

Bemused, I took a step toward the barn when
the cows mooed.

Those cows sure are raising a ruckus. Guess
it's up to me to take care of them.

“Mark, get her,” Adam yelled.

It wasn't all that far. I could find safety
inside the barn. Sheriff Cove dropped to one knee and pulled a
six-shooter from his holster. Fire spat from the barrel. Someone
behind the barn yelped.

That's Albert! Those good-for-nothing
Johnsons are shooting at my family!

Hot, fiery anger replaced my confusion. I
grabbed another handful of rocks. The first one flew over Mr.
Johnson's head, but the next found Daniel. He clapped a hand over
his cheek. Blood flowed through his fingers.

“Mow down that wildcat,” he hollered. “No
woman hurts me.”

I pelted rocks at the Johnsons while the
sheriff and my brothers shot at them. My missiles hit more of our
lazy neighbors than bullets did.

“Holy heck, you thought you could mess with a
Weston,” I shrieked. “Take that. You think you can hide from me.
Well, you can't, Albert.”

Darting forward, I threw more stones.
Finally, the Johnsons emerged from hiding with their hands over
their heads. Everyone but Adam and Uncle Andy ran over to tie them
up.

The sudden silence scared me. While I fought
the Johnsons, I didn't have to think about losing more of my
family. I pulled out the locket Ma gave me the night before I left
for the station. The cover had a real pretty curlicue on it.

“Ma,” I whispered. “You can't leave me alone.
We just figured out stuff about each other.”

I dared not think about it, but now I wanted
to go back, to feel her tight hug again. To see one of her rarer
than gold smiles was worth more than smacking the Johnsons with
rocks. How I yearned for another happy afternoon in the kitchen,
making an upside down cake. We could have taken the crazy idea
further and done it with a pie. The recipe danced through my head
while I wished for the impossible.

“Abby, did they hit you?” Uncle Andy asked.
“Are you all right?”

Was he blind? The Johnsons hit me hard by
taking away my ma just as we discovered we really liked each other.
I would never be all right again. Pa had promised that he and Ma
would take me around after my birthday tomorrow. They wanted me to
get to know our neighbors and maybe find a husband in one of their
friends' sons. Who would do that now? Where would we live? How
could I take care of so many men? Who would help me?

Chapter
Twenty-Four

Icy cold spread
throughout my body despite sweat sticking hair against my
head.

“Where did you get the locket, Abby?” Uncle
Andy asked. “That's Louisa's. Did she give it to you?”

His gentle tone penetrated some of my mind
numbing fear. I looked at him.

“Ma gave it to me the night before I left.”
My teeth chattered. “She said it was because I'm a woman now.” A
lonely tear slid alongside my nose. “But I don't feel like a woman.
I want Ma.”

In spite of Mark's shirt wrapped around his
arm, Uncle Andy checked me carefully.

“It's cold,” I said. “When can we go inside
so we don't freeze?”

“Paul, get a blanket off the horse.” Adam
shouted.

Paul trotted past. His concerned expression
scared me even more. What was wrong with me? Why was I falling
apart?

“Where's Ma?” I whimpered.

“Hang on, baby.” Adam pulled me into a hug.
“Paul, where's that blanket?”

The harshness in his voice made me shake
harder. Uncle Andy reached for me, but I clung to Adam. He wouldn't
let anything else happen to me.

“She needs a warm place and something to
eat,” Uncle Andy said. “We need to take care of this. It's
shock.”

Shaking his head, Adam lifted me and stomped
over to Paul. He had finally managed to pull a blanket away from
the back of Mark's saddle and unrolled it. Adam put me on the
ground and wrapped the blanket around me.

“I know that, Uncle Andy. Where do you
propose I build a fire to make some food?” he asked. “What will we
eat? We don't have pots, dishes, or food, and Abby's not fit to
cook.”

“Don't get angry at me because I lived,”
Uncle Andy said. “I'd rather have traded places with them than see
this happen.”

Sheriff Cove stared into the distance. What
sounded like thousands of hooves pounded across the desert. Instead
of running for cover, my brothers followed the sheriff's gaze. Men
wearing blue uniforms with wide brimmed hats rode onto our ranch.
Captain Smith led them.

“Sorry, Sheriff,” he said. “We got
sidetracked. Did you have a problem?”

Adam rubbed his hands up and down my
arms.

“It'll be all right now, Abby,” he murmured.
“The Army's here. They'll deal with this. Come on, baby, you gotta
fight what you're feeling.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. Why
would the Army take care of things? How could they?

“Captain Smith, we need a doctor for Abby,”
Sheriff Cove said. “Shock.”

“I'm a doctor,” Uncle Andy said. “I'll take
care of my niece.”

“Looks like you need some help too,” Captain
Smith said and raised his voice. “Doc, got a couple of folks that
need your help.” He pointed at a wagon near the rear. “Cookie, set
up a stove. These folks need a warm meal. We'll figure out a way to
shelter them until they get their house rebuilt.”

“Be right back.” Adam walked over to Captain
Smith. “I know this is way out of line, sir.” Adam glanced at me.
“It's Abby's sixteenth birthday tomorrow.”

“Say no more.” Captain Smith shook his head.
“We may not have fancy fixings, but I'll speak to Cookie. It's not
often he has the chance to bake a cake for a young lady's
birthday.”

The sheriff joked with him about how a slip
of a gal tossed rocks at the Johnsons until they gave up. It didn't
matter how brave they thought I was. Nothing mattered at all. When
a man with a bag like Uncle Andy's ran up, I shied away from
him.

“I won't hurt you, little missy,” he said.
“I'll have our cook bring you some tea if you let me check you
out.”

“Uncle Andy's hurt worse,” I said. “Shouldn't
you help him first?”

“Bless you, Abby, but I think the doctor
should look you over first,” Uncle Andy said. “You've had a hard
time since you got home. Might do you some good to rest for a
while.”

Would that bring back my parents and Peter?
Would that change what the Johnsons did? Nothing could. Our
good-for-nothing neighbors had robbed me of just about everything I
loved. Because of them, I would have to give up training horses.
What was left of my family needed me to take Ma's place.

“Will you tell Pony Bob why I can't come
anymore, Adam?” I asked. “Make sure he takes care of Blaze for me,
so he keeps working for The Pony Express.”

“Sure will, short stuff.”

Tears flowed down his face, and he walked
away with his head bent down. I tried to go after him, but the
doctor carried me to the barn where Mark and Paul made pallets out
of hay. After settling me on one, the doctor examined me much like
Ma used to.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked.

“No, sir, it's all numb. Kind of feels better
that way. Hurting isn't fun.”

“We'll fix that.” The doctor sent Mark for a
cup of tea and uncorked a medicine bottle. “I need you to take
this.”

The doctor poured some awful smelling
medicine into a spoon. I wrinkled my nose.

“Open up.”

Ma and Pa had taught me to obey adults, even
if they weren't family. After the doctor tipped the medicine down
my throat, I wished I had told him no. It tasted worse than lye
soap.

“Keep making faces like that, and your face
will freeze.” He smiled. “I know laudanum tastes awful, but it'll
let you sleep until you can handle this.”

“Nothing will help me handle this,” I
mumbled. “It's my fault.”

“What makes you say that?” He turned around
as Mark returned.

“Adam said you're to drink every drop.” Mark
pressed a mug of milky tea into my shaking hands.

Oh, I would, and then I would give every man
on the ranch a piece of my mind. The tea was so sweet it tasted
like syrup. That medicine had made me feel so fuzzy and
disconnected. My eyes drooped closed as soon as I finished the
drink.

“Paul, tell Adam she'll be all right.” Mark
lowered me onto the sweet smelling hay. “Doctor, our uncle has a
pretty bad burn on his arm. I'll stay with Abby if you'll look
after him.”

Dreams crashed around me, taking away the
pain of losing more of my family. In them, everyone was still
alive, every single one of them. David played pranks. Grace and I
sang songs. Ma and Aunt Mattie made the most wonderful desserts. Pa
and Peter helped in the corral. I hadn't lost anyone. I smiled and
fell deeper and deeper into the dream.

The most wonderful smell woke me. I stretched
and sat up, looking around. Adam sat against a hay bale.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Reality hit me hard when I saw the sorrow on
his face. The dreams had lied, just like my family had for ten
years.

“I'm fine.” I tried picking hay out of my
braids. “This is awful. I'll never get the hay out of my hair.”

“Let me.” He pulled a comb out of his pocket
and undid my braids. “Do you remember me doing this when you were
little?”

“Sort of.” My sadness had returned.

He gently combed out my hair and braided it
in one long tail down my back.

“We have a surprise for you.” He held out a
hand.

Not sure what to expect, I took his hand and
walked outside with him. The rest of my brothers, Uncle Andy, the
sheriff, and the army troop stood around a wagon where several
cakes sat on the rear gate.

“Happy Birthday,” everyone shouted.

It wasn't what I wanted, but they all looked
so eager, like they thought they could make me stop hurting if they
gave me a party. I sighed and decided to let them think they had
done it.

Adam hugged me from behind. “We wanted to
make you feel special today, so you didn't think we'd
forgotten.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I smiled until my face hurt and ate cake. All
the while, I hoped I would feel happier next year.

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Sheriff Cove rode
out with the Army troop three days later. The Johnsons sat in the
back of the cook wagon, their arms tied behind the backs, and a
soldier guarding them. Their leaving meant my brothers and I had to
comb through the ruins of our home.

“We need to take care of that.” Adam jerked
his head at the charred remains. “We've been lucky these last few
nights, but if we don't clear it out varmints will get in
there.”

Silence cloaked the area as we approached the
debris. Burned wood and another odor enveloped us. I turned away,
but the sickening stench was everywhere.

“Why don't you stay in the barn until we
finish, Abby?” Uncle Andy suggested. “It won't be easy to see.”

“Let her alone,” Bart said. “She's got as
much right as the rest of us.”

“Maybe she should take Uncle Andy's advice,”
Adam said. “You don't want to get the shivers again, Abby.”

There they go treating me like a baby
again.

So what if I needed the doctor to help me
stop shaking? It was not as if any of them hadn't had problems
sleeping. Adam woke all of us eight times last night with his
shouting and hollering.

“She can help me out here if she wants to
stay,” Uncle Andy said. “We'll need a place to lay them when you
find them.”

What did he mean? Get ready to lay them
where? I faced him, and he dropped a hand on my shoulder.

“I'll need you to hunt up some horse blankets
in the barn,” he said. “Can you do that?”

“Sure, but why?” I asked.

He blinked hard. It looked like tears
glittered on his lashes, but that couldn't be true. Uncle Andy
hadn't cried, although I almost caught him at the outhouse
yesterday evening. I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“It's all right if you want to cry a little,”
I said. “It might help you feel better.”

Uncle Andy nodded at someone behind me. I
glanced over my shoulder. My brothers walked into the burned out
building, pushing away beams and piles of ash. I understood what he
didn't want me to see.

“I'll find those blankets,” I said
quietly.

It only took a few minutes to locate what he
wanted, but I spent time playing with the barn cats to avoid the
powerful stink. They rolled around and let me scratch their
bellies. A black and white mottled kitten purred so loudly that I
laughed. The strange sound startled me. It seemed wrong to have so
much fun.