It's Not Fair!

San Joaquin Valley, California, Spring 1880

It's Saturday at last!" Andi Carter leaped from her bed and threw open the doors that led onto the balcony of her family's two-story ranch house. She hurried out into the early morning, leaned far over the railing, and breathed in the fresh new California day.

"This is going to be a great day," Andi announced, tossing her unruly mass of long, dark hair behind her shoulder. She could not hide her joy at the thought of a whole day to ride her horse, Taffy, and do as she liked.

She leaned farther over the railing, hoping to catch a glimpse of her brother Chad's new stallion. The corral next to the barn was just beyond sight, but if she climbed over the railing and balanced on the narrow overhang, she might be able to see the magnificent animal — if only for a moment.

Putting thoughts into action, Andi scurried over the railing, hampered only slightly by her long, white nightgown. She could almost hear her mother's disapproving voice. "Really, Andrea. Proper young ladies do not climb balconies in their nightgowns!" She smiled at the thought and shaded her eyes against the rising sun.

Before Andi could get a good view of the horse, the sun cleared the distant peaks of the Sierra Nevada, and she was forced to narrow her eyes against the brightness that erupted around her. The ranch house, styled after the lovely and practical Spanish haciendas of an earlier age, burst into dazzling white against the bright blue sky.

"I can't see a thing," she muttered, disappointed.

"Buenos días, señorita," a cheerful voice hailed her from below. "What are you doing?"

Andi whirled, slipped, and nearly lost her balance. She reached out to steady herself against the railing and looked down. Diego, one of the hired hands, stood leaning against a rake, grinning up at her.

"I ... well ... I was trying to see Chad's new stallion," came Andi's embarrassed reply. She scrambled back over the railing and onto the safety of the balcony.

Diego glanced in the direction of the corral, then up at Andi. He shook his head. "Why do you not go and look at the horse from nearer the corral, like everyone else?"

Andi had no answer for the Mexican ranch hand. She felt herself turning red and hoped with all her heart that Diego would keep this encounter to himself. Without a word, she spun around and re-entered her bedroom, closing the doors with a bang.

"What a way to start the day." But Andi couldn't help breaking into a grin at how she must have looked, hanging onto the balcony and wearing only her nightgown. No doubt Diego was having a good laugh over it while he tended the gardens.

She hurried across her room and began to dress, pulling on her favorite pair of faded overalls and a gingham shirt. How glad she was that Mother didn't always force her to wear what other young ladies going on twelve had to wear — dresses and tiny slippers and other uncomfortable trappings. On Saturdays, Andi was allowed to wear what she pleased, so long as she didn't step foot off the ranch.

"After all," Andi declared, pulling on one of her riding boots, "this is 1880. There are a lot of new ideas about what a girl can wear."

A door slammed. Andi paused in her dressing and listened. Only Chad slammed doors like that, and then only when he was upset about something.

"Andi! Get down here!" Chad's voice traveled up the stairs and through her bedroom door like the sound of a gunshot.

Andi winced. Oh, no. What have I done wrong this time? She quickly pulled on the other boot and made her way to the vanity. Pouring a tiny amount of water from the milk-white pitcher into the washbasin, she splashed the cold liquid on her face.

A small knot of worry began to form in Andi's stomach as she hastily braided her thick, dark hair into two long plaits. What could have upset Chad first thing in the morning?

Andi gave a quick glance around her less-than-spotless room and frowned. She really should take time to straighten it, but if she didn't find out what Chad wanted, he'd start yelling again. "I'll clean it later," she decided, half hoping that Luisa, their housekeeper, might look in on her room and spare a few minutes to clean it for her.

Andi made her way from her room but stopped at the top of the stairs. Reaching out her hand, she ran it along the smooth surface of the banister. Just this once, she persuaded herself.

Determined not to let Chad ruin her morning, she settled herself onto the railing. Lifting her feet, she sailed down the banister and landed on the foyer floor with a loud thump. She grinned and picked herself up from the floor. Sliding down the banister was such fun!

So long as Luisa doesn't catch me.

Her cheerful mood instantly restored, Andi entered the dining room with a spring in her step. She greeted her mother and older sister, who were finishing their breakfast in companionable silence.

"Good morning, Andrea," Mother replied with a smile. "Luisa just brought in a fresh plate of hotcakes. Sit down and have some before they get cold."

Andi sat down in the empty seat next to her sister and pretended not to notice that seventeen-year-old Melinda hadn't returned the greeting. Andi shrugged it off and helped herself to a stack of still-warm pancakes, smothering them in butter and maple syrup.

She's probably mad at me, Andi concluded. Somebody's always upset with me these days.

"Chad's looking for you," Melinda announced.

"I know," Andi said uneasily. "I heard him. The whole ranch can hear him when he yells."

Mother wrinkled her forehead. "I wonder what upset him this early in the day."

Andi didn't know, but she was certain it wouldn't be long before she found out. Her cheerful mood began to dissolve.

"So, here you are."

Andi looked up. Her twenty-six-year-old brother stood just inside the doorway. It was easy to see he was irritated about something. He wasn't smiling, and his blue eyes were stormy. He lifted a finger and pointed it at Andi. "I'd like a word with you."

"What about?" Andi speared a forkful of pancake and swirled it around in the syrup. She hoped Chad wasn't in one of his bossy moods. Just because he was in charge of running the ranch didn't mean he could tell her what to do all the time.

"I've just come from the barn," Chad said, "where I discovered about a dozen thirsty horses, yours included."

Oh, no! Andi sprang from her chair in sudden panic. Her eyes widened at the awful realization that she had neglected her chores.

"I'm sorry. I forgot. I'll do it right away." She hurried around the table but didn't get far.

Chad held out his arm to prevent her leaving. "Never mind. Mitch is taking care of it." He shook his head. "You were supposed to do it yesterday after school."

"I know, but ..." Her voice faltered. "Some of the men were breaking those new broncos out in the north corral. They said I could watch for a few minutes. I was going to check the horses after supper, but —" She broke off and ducked her head. "I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry," Chad said with an impatient sigh. He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at his sister. He nodded at her overalls and boots. "I'm glad to see you're dressed for work today. You're going to muck out every stall in the horse barn."

Andi's head snapped up. "Muck out the stalls? That's the ranch hands' job, not mine."

"Today it's your job."

"It'll take all day!"

"Good. It'll keep you out of trouble."

"Mother!" Andi turned to her mother in a desperate appeal. "Please don't make me clean stalls today. It's my only free day. I want to go riding."

Elizabeth Carter's soft blue eyes were full of understanding, but her voice was firm. "I'm sorry, Andrea. This is the third time in two weeks Chad has had to remind you about those horses. Checking their water is not a difficult task. Perhaps cleaning out stalls will help your memory."

Andi opened her mouth to protest. Then she closed it. Her mother was not going to budge. Ever since her father's death in an accident during spring roundup six years ago, her mother had turned over the running of the Circle C ranch to Andi's three older brothers. She rarely went against any decision Chad made regarding the day-today management of the ranch.

"Better get started." Chad poured himself a cup of coffee and joined his mother and Melinda at the table.

"It's not fair," Andi grumbled, reaching across the table for some sugar cubes for her horse. "One little mistake." She pocketed the sugar and turned toward the door. "My whole day is ruined."

"It's your own fault," Chad called after her.

Andi left the house in a huff. She kicked the dust and made her way toward the huge barn that stabled some of the finest horses in the San Joaquin Valley. Though most of the working horses were kept outdoors in a large corral, to be lassoed each day for work, there were always a few stabled in the barn. It was Andi's job to feed and water them.

She reached the barn and leaned against the wide double doors before entering. "Oh, Justin, I wish you were home. I'm hardly ever in trouble when you're around." She sighed. Her oldest and favorite brother had gone to Sacramento — again. Why couldn't he stay home and help Chad and Mitch run the ranch, instead of running off to San Francisco or Sacramento every few months?

"I'm sure Governor Perkins can run California without your help," she muttered. It was an old story. Justin was often away — doing whatever it was lawyers do — and no amount of wishing would bring him home any sooner.

With a sudden, urgent desire to get the miserable stall-cleaning job done, Andi pushed Justin from her thoughts. She shoved the heavy barn doors open and slipped inside, adjusting her eyes to the dim interior. The familiar odors of dusty hay, horses, and old leather greeted her.

She paused to enjoy the sweet scent of last summer's alfalfa then picked up a pitchfork, found the wheelbarrow, and made her way to her horse's stall. The palomino mare whinnied with eagerness at the sight of her young mistress. She thrust her golden head over the stall's half-door and nipped playfully at Andi's shoulder. Let me out of here! she seemed to be saying.

"You hate being cooped up, don't you, Taffy? I reckon your paddock out back isn't roomy enough for a good romp. Sorry, I'm just being selfish. You stay so much cleaner indoors."

Andi unlatched the stall's door and entered, patting Taffy in apology. "Listen, girl. Your troubles are nothing compared to mine." She began to clean the stall and unload her complaints onto her best friend, the one companion who always listened patiently. "I don't know what's wrong, but I can't seem to do anything right these days."

She stopped and leaned on the pitchfork. "How could I have been so stupid as to leave that open jar of spiders in Melinda's room last week?" She lunged at a pile of soiled straw bedding and tossed it through the open doorway. The load missed the wheelbarrow and landed in the middle of the walkway.

Andi sighed and went after the mess. "Nobody believed me when I said it was an accident. I only wanted to see the new stallion Chad and Mitch were bringing home. Everybody knows Melinda's room has the best view of the corral. I didn't mean to forget about the spiders."

She returned to the stall. "Really, Taffy, I didn't. Everything just happened so fast when the stallion broke out. Two of the men almost got trampled, and Jake Barnes got his arm broke!"

Andi gave Taffy a shove to encourage her to move over. "You should have seen Melinda at breakfast the next morning. She slammed the empty jar down right in front of me. When I saw those red bites all over her face and arms, I knew I was in trouble. Guess what I did the rest of the morning?" She walked around to face her horse. "Are you listening to me?"

Taffy stamped an impatient foot. Andi took it as a sign that she should continue her tale. "I spent the entire morning searching for and killing spiders. Then Mother made me scrub every crack in Melinda's floor and wash down the walls. I've decided not to collect spiders anymore."

She shuddered, remembering her sister's mood at breakfast. "At least not until Melinda cools down. I think she's still mad at me."

Andi leaned the pitchfork against the wall and turned back to her horse, giving the mare an affectionate pat. Taffy snorted and tossed her head, as if eager to hear more.

Andi was happy to oblige. "If spiders aren't bad enough, listen to what happened in school last week." She grabbed a brush and started grooming the palomino's coat. "Remember that big frog I found near the creek a couple of weeks ago? I took it to school."

Taffy snorted and laid her ears back.

"Yeah, it wasn't one of my better ideas. But Cory and I had a deal.

He was going to swap me five aggies for the frog. Before we could make the trade at recess, though, Miss Hall found the frog in my desk." She cringed at the memory. "She scolded me in front of the entire class and sent me to the corner. The corner, Taffy! I was in disgrace the rest of the day." Andi sighed. "Now, I've got no frog and no marbles."

She tossed the brush into a corner and picked up the pitchfork again. Spiders, frogs, forgetting her chores, leaving her room a mess — the list went on and on. She shook her head. Absolutely nothing had gone right since Justin left for Sacramento, and here she was on her only free day — stuck in the barn.

A sudden, distinctive whinny pulled Andi from another spell of daydreaming. She finished up Taffy's stall and leaned the pitchfork against one of the large posts that supported the loft above. The whinny came again, a call from the corral next to the barn.

Andi peeked through the open barn doors and into the corral. A rush of longing filled her heart. There he was — Chad's new black stallion. Prince Loco stood well over sixteen hands high, with a temper to match his size. He was the most beautiful horse Andi had ever seen. And the most dangerous.

From the moment the stallion had arrived on the ranch, Andi had begged to help with the gentling. Horses trusted her, she insisted. There wasn't a horse on the entire ranch she couldn't ride.

All her pleading had amounted to nothing. She was allowed to watch Chad work with Prince Loco — from a safe distance — but told never to go near him alone.

Chad was the ranch boss. His word was law, and Mother backed him up every time.

"It's not fair." Andi watched the magnificent horse run along the corral fence. "Chad treats me like I'm too little to do anything. If only he would give me a chance. I'd show him that horse would like me."

She leaned against the doorpost and shoved her hands into her pockets, ignoring her chores and gazing at the gorgeous black animal. She felt the small, hard lumps at the bottom of her pocket and remembered Taffy had not yet been given her weekly treat of sugar.

With a sigh, Andi pulled the sugar from her pocket and turned toward Taffy's stall. I' d better get back to those stalls before Chad catches me loafing.

Then she paused. A flickering of an idea tickled the back of her mind. She uncurled her fingers and stared at the white lumps lying in her palm. Her heart fluttered. I know I can do it, she decided suddenly. She pushed aside the thought of whether she should do it.

Andi raised her head and looked over at the stallion. I'm old enough to do this. I'll prove to Chad his stallion isn't as wild as he thinks. She took a step away from the barn and into the yard.

A Close Call

Andi stopped and gave a low whistle, the same greeting Chad always used to announce his presence around the horse. She waited, holding her breath.

Prince Loco stopped short. He pricked up his ears and turned his head in her direction. With that sign of encouragement, Andi relaxed. She made her way slowly and quietly toward the corral, whistling softly.

The stallion shied away to the other side of the corral when Andi approached. He paced back and forth and stamped the ground. He seemed to recognize the whistle but not the whistler. He laid his ears back in warning.

Andi hesitated. She glanced around the yard for signs of life. She definitely didn't want an audience.

The yard was deserted.

Little by little, Andi hoisted herself to the top railing of the corral and sat quietly, watching the stallion. So far, so good. Prince Loco regarded her for an instant and then moved a few paces closer. Was his curiosity getting the better of him?

"C'mon, you beautiful thing," Andi urged in a low whisper. "You know I'd never hurt you, don't you? Listen. I whistle just like Chad." She whistled softly and waited.

Andi knew patience was the key to gentling any horse. Hadn't Chad taught her that when they'd trained Taffy together all those years ago? It was time to show her brother she remembered the lesson. Andi would wait as long as it took for the stallion to realize she was not a threat.