Lucky gasped. Now that she stood in the open air, the train seemed to be moving faster. The sensation caught her off guard and she stumbled, grabbing the rail for balance. The tracks behind stretched like two lines in a sketchbook, all the way to the horizon. On either side lay open prairie, basking beneath an endless blue sky. Lucky smiled and lifted her face. What a great feeling, to glide along, the wind on her skin. She wished the train could go faster!
Movement caught the corner of her eye. She darted to the right side of the caboose and gripped the railing. The mystery of the train whistle was solved.
A herd of horses!
Dozens of them galloped alongside the train, their hooves thundering. They varied in color—some were solid black, a few were black with white faces, others were chocolate with white spots. But it was a stallion who caught Lucky’s attention. His coat was tan, like the color of dried grass, with a black mane, black tail, and black legs. He pulled away from the herd, managing to keep pace with the train. How could a horse run so fast? Lucky shivered with excitement. He was the most beautiful horse she’d ever seen. He galloped closer until he was parallel to her. He turned his head, as curious about her as she was about him. She noticed a white stripe from his forehead to his muzzle. Without considering the danger, without any sense of fear, Lucky leaned over the railing and reached out her hand. Their eyes locked. If she leaned a bit farther, she might be able to touch him. Oh, how desperately she wanted to touch him. But his gaze darted away, and that’s when they both noticed something.
“Look out!” Lucky cried.
The stallion veered away just in time, as a rope flew through the air, barely missing his neck. Two men on horseback appeared out of nowhere. They swung ropes over their heads. “Get him!” one of them shouted. The rest of the herd broke away and headed toward the distant hills, but the men didn’t follow. They were focused on the stallion.
Why were they trying to catch him? “Leave him alone!” Lucky screamed. The stallion kept galloping, the men in close pursuit. The ropes swung again; this time one reached its target, looping around the stallion’s neck. The man pulled the rope taut, slowing the beautiful horse just enough for the other man to loop a second rope around his neck. As the stallion reared and bucked, a desperate whinny filled the air, but he couldn’t break free. “No!” Lucky cried. A pair of hands grabbed her and pulled her away from the railing. “Leave me alone!”
“Fortuna Esperanza Navarro Prescott!” Her aunt’s angry voice boomed in her ear. “You get back inside this minute!” With surprising strength, Cora pulled Lucky into the caboose’s cabin. Lucky caught one last look at the stallion, who stood alongside the tracks, straining against the ropes. Then the whole scene disappeared into the horizon.
“You are incorrigible,” Cora said, wagging a finger. “Return to your father this instant.”
Lucky didn’t hear a word her aunt said. She could think about only one thing. With a swift turn on her heels, she raced back to their cabin. “Dad!” she called as she fell onto the seat next to him.
“What’s going on?” he asked. Their cabin was on the opposite side of the train, so he’d missed the whole thing.
“Dad, I—”
“Outrageous, that’s what it was, flinging herself at the rails,” Cora reported. Strands of her hair had come loose in the wind, so she began to tuck them into place. “With no regard to safety. She would have jumped right off the back of the train if I hadn’t stopped her.”
Jim lowered his newspaper. “Jumped off? What are you talking about?”
Lucky pushed out the words as fast as she could. “I wanted to help him.”
“Help who? What happened?”
She had her father’s full attention now, and she needed to be quick before Cora interrupted again. She strung her sentences together in one long, breathless explanation. “There was this horse, this beautiful horse, and he was running next to the train and he looked right at me, and all I wanted to do was touch him so I reached out my hand and I think he was going to let me pet him, but these horrible men threw ropes on him!”
Jim set his hand on her knee. “Lucky, take a breath. You’re turning blue.”
“Dad, it was terrible! Why did they throw ropes around him?”
Jim nodded as he began to understand what Lucky had witnessed. “Well, those men are called mesteñeros. They catch mustangs.”
“Mustangs?”
“Mustangs are the wild horses that live in these parts. Often they’ll round up the entire herd, then funnel them into a pen. But the really skilled riders will use ropes, like you saw. After the mesteñeros capture a mustang, they take him back to a ranch to be broken.”
“Broken? That’s terrible. Why would they do something like that? They’re such pretty horses.”
“Oh, Lucky, broken is a term that means ‘trained.’ They slowly take the wildness out of the mustangs and tame them, so they can be ridden. They won’t hurt the horse you saw.” But Lucky wasn’t convinced. It didn’t sound fair, to take such a lovely wild creature away from his family. Jim reached forward and pulled her into a hug. “He’ll be fine. I promise.”
With hands on hips, Cora shook her head in disbelief. “Why are you hugging her? I’m not done yelling. Didn’t you hear me? She nearly fell off the train.”
“I didn’t almost fall,” Lucky insisted. In truth, maybe she had reached out too far. But in that moment she’d felt mesmerized, the eyes of the horse meeting hers. She’d felt drawn to him.
“It seems to me that a beast like that should stay in the wild,” Cora said.
Lucky completely agreed. And then the sound she’d been waiting for filled her ears.
“Last stop, Miradero. Everyone must disembark! Last stop, Miradero!”
13
Wheels screeched against track as the train slowed.
Finally!
Lucky was off the train before Cora could stop her. After a cacophony of spluttering and hissing noises, the great steam engine fell silent. Her ears hummed a bit from the long trip but it didn’t bother her. They’d arrived!
With a brisk, excited pace, Lucky walked along the platform. She passed men unloading crates labeled DYNAMITE. Cattle mooed and bellowed from inside their cars, giving off a powerful scent. Or was that from the pigs in the next car over? A painted sign hung above the platform. WELCOME TO MIRADERO. She hurried into the station house, a small room with only one bench seat and a ticket window where an old man snored, his head resting on the counter. An orange cat perched next to him, watching the way cats do—curious yet uninterested at the same time. The station house walls were covered in wanted posters. WANTED FOR TRAIN ROBBERY. WANTED FOR CATTLE RUSTLING. Lucky’s eyes widened with excitement. WANTED FOR BANK ROBBERY. This place was wild! Cora was going to squeal when she read these.
The train schedule was posted on a large board, as was an advertisement for Dr. Merriweather’s Snake Oil Tonic, but Lucky wasn’t interested in any of those things. She desperately wanted to see where she was going to spend the next months, maybe years, of her life. Two doors stood ahead of her, each with a window glowing with sunshine. What would she find on the other side? Would the streets be teeming with cowboys? Would bandits be roaming in gangs? Would Miradero be as untamed as Cora feared?
That would be amazing!
Lucky pushed open the doors and stepped into…
… stifling midday heat.
The noon sun hovered directly overhead. Lucky loosened the green sash on her dress. Talk about being way overdressed. Some of her layers needed to come off, and soon. And it was so bright!
Jim and Cora joined Lucky outside the station. “Smell that country air!” Jim said, expanding his lungs with enthusiasm.
“It smells like manure,” Cora complained, wrinkling her nose.
Jim laughed. “You’ll get used to the odor.”
As Lucky’s eyes adjusted to the sun, she took a long, sweeping look at her new surroundings. They’d arrived in a green valley surrounded by
tabletop mountains. Dozens of juniper trees grew next to the station. Lucky had seen junipers before, but these were tall, with wild, twisted branches, not neatly trimmed into hedges like the ones in the city. Large boulders dotted the landscape, with yellow flowers peeking between. A dirt road led away from the station to some buildings in the distance. “That must be the edge of town,” Jim said.
“Are we walking there?” Lucky asked. “It’s not that far from here.”
“I certainly hope we’re not walking in this heat.” Cora fiddled with her tight collar. “My goodness, is it always this hot?”
“You’ll get used to that, too,” Jim told her.
A man approached. He wore a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A wide-brimmed hat shaded his face. He tipped his hat at Cora. “Hello, folks, you must be the Prescotts. I’m John Mercer. I do the bookkeeping for JP & Sons.” He extended his hand and he and Jim shook. Jim introduced him to Cora and Lucky. “Looks like you made it in one piece. How was your trip?”
“It took forever,” Lucky complained.
John pushed his thick glasses up his nose. “Imagine how long it took in the old days when you had to come by wagon train.” He pointed behind them. “I brought the company wagon. We’ll load up your luggage, and I’ll drive you to your house. It’ll be nice having a family living up there. Been vacant since Mr. Prescott Sr. had it built.” A station worker helped wheel the trunks to the wagon, then Jim and John loaded them. Sweat beaded on Jim’s forehead. His wool jacket and waistcoat were proving too much in the sun. “You won’t be needing formal clothes, Mr. Prescott,” John told him. “It’s casual clothing hereabouts.”
“Good to know,” Jim said as he stripped off his jacket and flung it into the wagon. Then he, too, rolled up his sleeves. Cora pursed her lips but said nothing.
Once the trunks were loaded, Jim helped Cora into the wagon. She and Lucky took the back bench while Jim sat up front next to John. Cora opened her parasol, creating shade for herself and Lucky. John and Jim began discussing railroad issues. Jim wanted to stop at the JP & Sons office to introduce himself to the staff. Lucky wasn’t much interested in what they were talking about. She was watching the two brown horses pulling the wagon. “Are those mustangs?” she asked.
“Nope. If you want mustangs, you’ll need to go to Al Granger’s place.”
Lucky scooted forward and leaned between John and her father. “Does that mean Mr. Granger takes them from the wild?”
“Al specializes in breaking wild horses. He’s the best horse wrangler in these parts. I’m surprised you know about mustangs, being from the city and all.”
Lucky didn’t really know anything about mustangs, but unlike the stallion, these two horses weren’t fighting against the reins. They seemed perfectly happy. Could a wild mustang be equally happy pulling a wagon? But her thoughts turned to other concerns when, a few moments later, they reached the edge of town.
“Well, Lucky, this is Miradero. What do you think?” Jim asked.
She tried to hide her disappointment. Surely there was more to see? She looked to the left, then to the right, but there appeared to be only one main street. “Is this the whole town?”
“Yup,” John said. “The whole shebang.”
“It won’t be like this forever. In a few days we’re going to start dynamiting land to lay new railroad track, and before you know it, this will be a bustling city, every bit as good as the one we just left. It will no longer be the end of the line,” Jim explained.
But for now it is the end of the line, Lucky thought. She managed a smile so her dad wouldn’t sense her frustration. But she wondered: In a place this small, would there be any kids her age?
Jim reached back and patted her hand. “Lucky, keep an open mind. You’ll have fun here. I promise.” Lucky nodded. Then she gave the town a long look, as if writing a letter to Emma in her mind.
A wide dirt road ran the length of Miradero, which was just two city blocks. Buildings lined both sides of the road. The architecture was a hodgepodge of design, from Spanish stucco, to Western facades, to traditional brick. It was so quiet compared to the city. There were no crowds, no street noise. Only a handful of people walked between the stores. The closest store had a display of cowboy hats in the window. Lucky wondered if Cora would ever trade her pheasant-feathered hat for a cowboy hat. That thought made her giggle.
“Here’s the office,” John announced, pulling the horses to a stop. Just as Lucky scrambled out of the wagon, a familiar whinnying sound caught her attention. She spun around. The stallion was here, in Miradero! The two men she’d seen earlier were pulling him up the street, their ropes still around his neck. His eyes darted furiously as he fought, kicking and bucking, trying to break free. “Dad, that’s him! That’s the horse!”
At the sound of her voice, the stallion turned and looked at her, his dark gaze once again meeting hers. For a brief moment, the stallion fell silent. Does he remember me? Lucky wondered. Then he turned away and gave another loud whinny. Were those ropes too tight? Was he scared? Lucky felt helpless. “Dad, you said they wouldn’t hurt him!”
“They aren’t,” Jim assured her. “He’s just not used to being handled. He’ll settle down in a few days.”
The men struggled as they guided the stallion farther down the road. His hooves kicked up dirt as he bucked. “He’s wild, that’s for sure!” one of the men hollered.
“Whoa! Whoa!” shouted the other man as he narrowly avoided being kicked. Then they moved behind a building, disappearing from view. Lucky wanted to run after them. Her legs wanted to sprint around the corner so she could see what was going on.
“Don’t even think about it,” Cora said as she stepped in front of Lucky. “We just got here and I won’t have you taking off already.” Lucky frowned. Could Cora actually read her mind? “Besides, that should be a good lesson to you. You see how wild that horse is? That’s why I always tell you they are not safe.” Then, with a wag of her finger, she said, “You wait right here.”
As Jim and Cora stepped into the office of JP & Sons, Lucky stood, staring at the spot where the stallion had kicked up clods of dirt. Her heart ached for him. An hour ago he’d been running free, and now he was here in this strange little town, tied up like a prisoner. He probably felt as out of place as she did.
Lucky was about to follow her dad into the office when a voice said, “Careful or you’ll end up smelling like a stable.” A girl walked up to Lucky. She pointed at the ground. Lucky had almost stepped in a pile of horse manure.
“Yuck,” Lucky said, stepping away. “Thanks for the warning.”
The girl smiled at her. The first thing Lucky noticed was the girl’s cool blue eyes, so bright in contrast to her dark-red hair. Lucky was immediately relieved to have met another girl, especially one who seemed nice and was about the same age. Cora would very much approve of this girl’s clothing. Her button-up blouse had no stains, nor did her gold-buttoned vest. Even her shoes were smudge free, which had to be difficult to maintain with the dusty conditions. “You’re Fortuna Prescott, aren’t you?” the girl asked.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“My dad got a telegraph. It said you and your dad were coming out here to live. I hear your dad owns the railroad.”
“Well, he doesn’t exactly own it. My grandfather is the one who—”
“I’m Maricela,” the girl interrupted. “My father’s the mayor.” She pointed to a large building looming at the end of the street, decorated with Greek columns and a bell tower. “That’s town hall, where my dad works. He’s in charge of everything.” She was clearly bragging, and suddenly Lucky felt as if she were six years old, standing in the schoolyard doing the whole “my dad’s better than your dad” thing. Maricela folded her hands behind her back. “So, Fortuna—”
“You can call me Lucky.”
“Lucky?” She paused for a moment. “That’s an interesting name. Don’t you like Fortuna?”
“Sure I like it. It’s Spani
sh for ‘good fortune.’ But my parents started using the nickname Lucky, and it stuck.” Maricela narrowed her eyes. Lucky immediately regretted sharing such personal information. She barely knew this girl.
Maricela reached up and adjusted the white silk ribbon that held her long hair away from her face. “Well, Lucky, I’m really happy that you’re here. Finally, there’s someone worth being friends with. You wouldn’t believe the kind of kids I’ve had to put up with in this town.” Her smiled faded and her upper lip rose in a sneer. “The worst.”
As if on cue, two girls rode their horses down the street. The first girl had long black hair, pulled back into a single braid. The other girl had blond hair cut in a short bob. Each wore riding pants and a plain shirt. They seemed to be in a hurry and didn’t notice Lucky. “Come on,” the first girl said. “We’ve got only a few hours to ride before I gotta do chores.”
“Who are they?” Lucky asked.
“Pru Granger and Abigail Stone.” Maricela rolled her eyes. “Those two are not my friends. All they care about is riding horses. Seriously, that’s all they do.” Then she got that pinched look again, as if she’d eaten a bug. “You don’t ride, do you?”
“No,” Lucky said. “I’m… I’m not allowed to. My aunt says it’s not appropriate behavior for a young lady of society.” She mimicked her aunt’s stern voice, hoping to get a laugh out of Maricela, because it was silly, really. But Maricela didn’t laugh.
“Of course you don’t ride.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “And why would you? It’s stupid. It’s beneath people like us. Seriously, I’m so glad to finally have someone who’s my equal.”
What was that supposed to mean? Was she kidding? Or was she Cora’s dream come true?
Spirit Riding Free--The Adventure Begins Page 7
