Spirit Riding Free--Lucky and the Mustangs of Miradero Page 9

  No doubt the herd was also hungry. There was no satisfaction in eating frozen plants and tree bark. If only he could lead them to his girl. She’d feed them oats and hay. But he couldn’t do that. The town was full of men with ropes—men who would catch the largest mustangs and lock them up behind fences. Those men couldn’t be trusted. Spirit had learned that the hard way.

  He followed the herd’s scent. The horses were pressed up against a steep canyon wall, which offered protection from the wind. They greeted him as they began to settle in for the night. The colt lay next to his mother, already fast asleep. Spirit wound his way until he found his sister and her filly. The filly lifted her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were glassy. He sniffed her. She smelled different. He looked into his sister’s eyes. She nodded sadly.

  The filly was sick. Very, very sick.

  Part Three

  19

  More snow fell overnight, but thanks to the grit and determination of the townspeople, walkways were shoveled and roads were packed down so the kids could attend school. Just as Lucky was finishing breakfast, a knock sounded on the door. She opened it to find Mayor Gutierrez. “Why, hello there, Lucky,” he said, whisking off his bowler hat. Then he shook her hand in his usual, eager way. “We’ve come to escort you to school.”

  “You have?” Lucky asked, a bit confused at first. But then she remembered Maricela’s deal with Miss Flores. “Oh, right.” With a bit of effort, she managed to pull her hand away. “Thanks.”

  “Couldn’t get the wagon up the drive,” the mayor explained. “Too steep in this snow.” He pointed to the bottom of the driveway, where his wagon and horse waited. Maricela sat in the back seat, her face peeking out from beneath a pile of blankets.

  “Good morning, Mayor,” Jim said. More vigorous handshaking ensued. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”

  Mayor Guiterrez beamed. “I would indeed, Jim, I would indeed. But I’ve promised Maricela not to dillydally. She is determined to get Lucky to school on time, and you know my daughter can be quite…” He paused, his smile fading. “Quite determined.”

  “Dad!” Maricela hollered.

  Lucky wondered if determined was the best word choice. Bossy was more like it. “Yes, dear!” he hollered back. Then he smiled at Jim again. “I hope you don’t think it’s rude that I don’t accept your offer of coffee. I’m always delighted to visit with local voters and discuss the matters of the day. Remember, a vote for Gutierrez is a vote for progress.”

  “DAAAAAAD!”

  Lucky suddenly felt sorry for the mayor. She only had to deal with Maricela on a part-time basis, but he had to live with her. Lucky collected her outerwear and lunch bag, gave a quick kiss to Cora and Jim, then followed the mayor to his wagon. She climbed onto the bench seat.

  “Good morning,” Maricela said, lifting one of the blankets to make room for Lucky. It was nice and warm under there.

  “Thanks for picking me up,” Lucky said as Mayor Gutierrez climbed up front and took the reins.

  “I’m always here for the people of Miradero.” Why did he always sound like he was campaigning? Lucky wasn’t even old enough to vote.

  Maricela seemed in good spirits. As they cuddled together, Lucky realized that this was the perfect time to try, once again, to persuade Maricela to change her mind. “Maricela, about our school project…”

  Maricela glared at Lucky, her mood instantly turning dark. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But we were supposed to know by Friday and that’s tomorrow. If we don’t figure something out, we’re all going to fail.”

  “It’s too cold to talk.” She pulled the blanket all the way over her head. What was going on? Didn’t Maricela, the teacher’s pet, care about her grades?

  “As the group leader, I—”

  “We can talk about this later,” Maricela said, her voice muffled by the blankets.

  Later? Lucky didn’t like being dismissed. Maricela was acting like she had something more important to think about.

  “You girls warm back there?” the mayor asked, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Yes, thank you,” Lucky said. Then she pushed off the blankets and scooted away from Maricela. She wasn’t going to cuddle with someone who was being so pigheaded, no matter how cold it was outside!

  They arrived at school on time. There’d been no sign of Spirit, but that didn’t surprise Lucky. After thanking Mr. Gutierrez again, she jumped out of the wagon without waiting for Maricela and ran up the steps. She needed to talk to Pru and Abigail right away. They had to come to a decision before Miss Flores failed them.

  Turo was stoking the fire when Lucky charged into the classroom. Miss Flores looked up from her desk. “Nice to see you on time, Lucky.” She walked over to the attendance board and drew another star next to Lucky’s name. Then she said, very quietly, “You know, I ran into your father at the bakery the other day. We had a very nice conversation. How is he?”

  How is he? Why was Miss Flores asking about Lucky’s father? “He’s fine, I guess,” Lucky said with a shrug.

  “Oh, that’s nice.” Miss Flores smiled sweetly. “I was wondering….” Why were her cheeks turning red? “Please tell him I said hello.” She turned briskly on her heels and walked back to her desk.

  “That was weird,” Lucky whispered to Pru and Abigail as she took her seat.

  “I told you,” Abigail chirped. “Your dad is an eligib—”

  “Don’t say it,” Lucky grumbled.

  After everyone was seated, including Maricela, Miss Flores called upon Lucky. “Lucky, I’m hoping that you and your group will have a decision tomorrow regarding your winter project.” She folded her hands and waited. Lucky slowly stood. As the leader, she felt like a complete failure.

  “Well, Miss Flores, we’re still having trouble agreeing. You see, it’s still three against one. Maricela wants to—”

  Maricela darted to her feet. “Lucky was about to say that Maricela wants to make winter care packages for animals. You know, like suet cones for the songbirds and little seed cakes for rabbits and mice. And I’m pretty sure that the rest of my team will agree because why wouldn’t they want to help animals?” Lucky’s mouth fell open. Wait a minute. How did Maricela know about their plan to feed the animals? They hadn’t told her.

  Miss Flores smiled. “I think that’s a great idea, Maricela.” Maricela puffed out her chest until it looked like she might pop a button.

  “Wait a minute.” Pru jumped to her feet, too. “That idea was Abigail’s, not Maricela’s.”

  Maricela released a high-pitched, nervous sort of laugh. “Don’t be silly, Pru. You know how much I love animals. I love them all, so much. Why wouldn’t I want to help them? And since I came up with the winning idea, I think I should be leader.”

  “Leader?” Pru said. “She’ll make a terrible leader. She doesn’t listen to anyone. She only wants to do things her way!”

  Abigail raised her hand. “Miss Flores, I like having Lucky as our leader.”

  “Pru, please sit down,” Miss Flores said sternly. “I am very tired of the way you and Maricela are always bickering. Are you all in agreement that you’d like to make winter care packages for the animals?” Lucky, Pru, Abigail, and Maricela nodded. “Then it appears that Maricela did help to bring about an agreement, so why don’t Maricela and Lucky move forward as co-leaders?”

  “That’s fine by me,” Maricela said.

  Lucky sighed. Having to share a leadership role with Maricela was not going to be fun, but handing over total power to her would be worse. “Okay,” she agreed.

  Pru slumped into her seat. “This is so typical of Maricela,” Pru whispered. “It wasn’t her idea. She stole it, just like she steals everything.”

  “I don’t really care who gets credit,” Abigail whispered back. “I just want to help the animals.”

  Lucky realized that Abigail was possibly the sweetest person she’d ever met. Why bother battling with Maricela? The end r
esult was the important thing—to feed the creatures that needed their help. And not getting an F on the project would be nice, too. But still, the fact that Maricela was taking credit for Abigail’s idea seemed so unfair.

  “Miss Flores,” Lucky said, raising her hand. “Maricela forgot to mention that along with making suet cones for the birds, and seed cakes for the rodents, we’re also going to make horse cookies for the mustang herd.”

  Maricela gasped. “I didn’t—”

  “Oh, but it was your idea, remember? You said you love all animals and that you wouldn’t want any of them to go hungry. Because you love them, so much. Isn’t that right?” Lucky waited. She’d put Maricela into a corner. With everyone watching, she had no choice but to agree, or else her lie would be exposed.

  “Uh-huh,” Maricela mumbled, her chest deflating as she slumped into her chair.

  Lucky and Pru shared a satisfied smile. Maricela had taken advantage of Abigail. And she’d made it look as if Lucky had failed as the group leader. As if Maricela had swooped in on her angelic wings to save them all. What a load of horse manure! Lucky clearly hadn’t earned any points with Miss Flores today. But at least they were on the right path.

  20

  On Friday after school, Lucky stood at the stove, warming lamb fat in a big cast-iron pot. The recipe for suet cones called for equal parts lamb fat and bird seed. “We have sunflower seeds, millet seeds, and cracked corn,” Abigail said as she set the ingredients on the kitchen table.

  “And here’s a bucket of pinecones,” Pru announced. “I had to dig for them under the snow, so I’m going to set them in front of the fire to dry.”

  The plan was to mix the seed and suet, then smear the paste into the spaces of an upside-down pinecone. Then they’d tie twine around the cone and hang it from a tree. “The birds are going to love this,” Abigail said.

  “That stuff stinks,” Maricela complained from her perch on one of the Prescotts’ kitchen stools. She’d been sitting the entire time, not lifting a finger. “I don’t want to get my dress dirty. It came all the way from Chicago,” she’d explained.

  “Why would you wear a nice dress anyway?” Pru asked. “You knew we were going to be working. You should have worn work clothes.”

  “I don’t own work clothes. Why would I? We have a housekeeper who does all the work.” She tucked her knees under her skirt. “Why don’t you have a housekeeper, Lucky? Didn’t you have one in Philadelphia?”

  “We don’t need one,” Lucky said. “My dad, my aunt, and I all share the chores.”

  “Your housekeeper isn’t here, Maricela, so you’d best roll up your sleeves and help,” Pru said. The lamb fat had gently melted, so Lucky removed the pot from the stove. Then she and Abigail began to add the seeds.

  Maricela tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “I don’t see why I should work. You should all be grateful. If I hadn’t agreed to make these care packages, we all would have failed.”

  “Grateful?” Pru said. Both Lucky and Abigail held their breaths. The last thing they needed was a big blowout between those two. There was so much work to be done. Once they’d finished the suet cones, they were going to make the seed cakes and the horse treats, which for Lucky were the most important part of the entire project. She needed to distract Pru and Maricela.

  “Hey, Maricela,” she said. “Cutting twine won’t get your hands dirty. And we’d all be very grateful for the help.” If she had to feed false flattery to her, then so be it. The afternoon was getting away from them and there was so much to do.

  Maricela raised an eyebrow. “You see, it’s not so hard to be nice.” She grabbed the twine and scissors. Pru rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything. She also knew they needed Maricela’s help.

  Lucky and Pru scooped the birdseed mixture and began to fill the pinecones. They were huge cones, from a ponderosa pine, with large gaps between the scales. Cora popped into the kitchen. “I’m going to help Althea deliver care packages,” she said. “You girls should be fine on your own, but no using the oven while I’m gone.”

  While the seed cakes weren’t cakes in the usual sense and didn’t require baking, the cookies did need twelve minutes in the oven. “But what about the cookies?” Lucky asked.

  “The baking will have to wait until I return.” And without further discussion, Cora hurried out the front door.

  “We can still get the ingredients ready,” Pru said, noticing the disappointed look on Lucky’s face.

  “Oh, that’s a good idea.” Abigail took a large bowl off the shelf.

  Maricela stopped cutting twine. Her brows knotted. “Cookies?”

  “For horses,” Pru said.

  “The horses love my regular oatmeal cookies, but these will be special, with horse-approved ingredients,” Abigail explained.

  “Mrs. Granger helped alter the recipe,” Lucky said. “So we’re using only flour, molasses, oats, raisins, and apples.”

  Maricela set the scissors aside with a loud thunk. “I don’t care what they’re made of. I told you from the very beginning I wanted nothing to do with horses.”

  Oh no, here we go, Lucky thought. “But this isn’t a horse project. This is an animal project.”

  “And you agreed to do it,” Pru said.

  “Yes, but you tricked me into agreeing.”

  “And you tricked everyone into thinking it was your idea, remember?” Pru set her serving spoon on the table with an even louder thunk. Then she walked around the table until she was standing right next to Maricela. “I’ve been thinking about it, Maricela. Yes, it’s possible that you and Abigail had the exact same idea. But it’s doubtful. I mean, you kept talking about winter fashion. You didn’t seem one bit interested in studying animals. But you were at the Ladies’ Aid Society meeting, and that’s where Abigail came up with her idea. Were you spying on us?”

  Pru’s explanation made sense, and Lucky suspected it was true.

  Maricela’s face went red. Then she slid off the bench and she and Pru stood, face-to-face, glaring at each other. If Althea were there, she’d probably say, They look as mad as two badgers in a bucket!

  “So, you think I spied on you? I suppose you think I ruined your speech, too.”

  Pru’s mouth fell open. “As a matter of fact, I do think that, but I wouldn’t publicly accuse you because I don’t have proof. And I was raised to think the best of people, unless they prove otherwise—and you proved otherwise, Maricela, when you took credit for Abigail’s idea!”

  “Look, I don’t care whose idea it was,” Abigail said. “Will you please stop fighting?”

  “I care,” Pru said. “Don’t you get it? This is what Maricela does. She stops at nothing to get her way. She’ll do anything to beat me. Why? I never did anything to you, Maricela!” And before Lucky could say anything, Pru grabbed her coat and stomped out through the kitchen door.

  “Wait!” Lucky called.

  “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Maricela said, tears in her eyes. Then she grabbed her coat and followed in Pru’s footsteps. Lucky and Abigail raced to the doorway and watched as Pru and Maricela marched down the driveway, side by side. Then Pru turned left toward her house, and Maricela turned right.

  Lucky and Abigail sighed. “How are we going to finish all this work by ourselves?” Lucky asked.

  “We can try,” Abigail said, her usual optimistic self.

  But even though they worked hard and fast enough to finish the suet cones, Abigail and Lucky didn’t get to bake the horse cookies. At five o’clock, Abigail’s dad came to pick her up.

  “We have so much work left to do,” Abigail told him. “Can’t you pick me up later?” Mr. Stone explained that there would be another freezing spell that night, so it would be too cold for him to pick her up later. She and Lucky could work on their project tomorrow.

  After Lucky hugged Abigail good-bye, a tight feeling settled in Lucky’s stomach. She was mad at Maricela for quitting, but she was also mad at Pru. They were supposed to be
a team. And now Spirit and his herd would go another day without their care packages.

  21

  Jim and Cora returned late that evening. Cora’s deliveries had taken longer than expected and Jim had been finishing up some business at the JP & Sons’ office. The suet cones were lined up on the porch so that the cold air could harden the suet. “What a lot of work you’ve accomplished,” Cora said proudly. She and Jim wiped snow from their boots, then set them near the fireplace to dry.

  “We have thirty cones for the birds and two dozen seed cakes for the rabbits and mice.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think a twister touched down in here,” Jim said as he walked into the kitchen, where Lucky was still working. Now that she could use the oven, she was patting the mixture into mounds.

  “I know we made a mess,” she said. “I’ll clean it up. I promise.”

  Lucky expected a sigh of exasperation from her aunt. Cora often said that tidiness was a virtue. But at that moment she ignored the mess. “I’m too tired to fret about it,” she said, sinking onto the sofa. Then she yawned, without even covering her mouth. She was tired!

  Jim sliced a loaf of bread, and heated up some split pea soup, a leftover from the previous evening’s dinner. “It’s nice to see you working so hard on schoolwork,” he said, pulling Lucky away from her project. “But you need to eat.” Reluctantly, Lucky washed her hands, then sat at the table. As Jim stirred his soup, steam rose above his bowl. “It seems Miss Flores has really gotten you into the swing of things at your new school.”

  “Miss Flores is a lovely woman,” Cora said as she joined them. “When we first moved here, and I learned that there was only one teacher for the entire town, I was admittedly worried. But I’ve had a number of conversations with her about literature and social issues. She’s very knowledgeable.” Cora buttered a bread slice, then looked at Jim. “Did you know she’s not married?”