Читать книгу Wagon Train Cinderella - Shirley Kennedy - Страница 8

Caleb Whitaker was a man of stern convictions who never shilly-shallied and never, with rare exceptions, changed his mind. He’d grown up with ten brothers and sisters in a mirthless home where his parents waged a constant battle against wickedness, sloth, and sacrilege. Because his father never spared the rod, Caleb, who was a rather stubborn boy, trod the well-worn path to the woodshed many a time before the importance of obedience and discipline became deeply ingrained in his nature. It was no surprise he had followed in his father’s footsteps, raising his children as he had been raised. Spare the rod, spoil the child.

Although Caleb was in many ways a fair man, God-fearing and hardworking, his children had learned in early childhood he could be a tyrant if anyone even thought of disobeying him. Both his two oldest sons had left home at an early age, grateful to escape their parents’ tyranny. Only the girls were left, and the youngest son, Tommy, who hardly said a word and acted strange. Caleb ignored him. The boy was nothing but an embarrassment.

Hester Whitaker’s unforgiving nature resembled her husband’s. In fact, she was, in her own way, every bit a despot as he was. Raised in a home as strict as Caleb’s, she saw nothing wrong with stern discipline. Her way was the only way—a belief that went hand-in-hand with her unyielding temperament. Lydia and Nellie were the only exceptions to her stringent rules. She doted on her two girls, constantly defending them against their father, never subjecting them to the firm punishment she meted out to her other children. Nobody knew why she favored her two daughters over all the others. She never explained, perhaps because she had no explanation.

Now, at dawn’s first light, Callie and her stepfather were the first ones up, Callie making the coffee, Caleb yoking the oxen. At the sound of approaching horses, he uttered a curse and looked across the meadow. “What do those damn fools want?”

Callie followed his gaze. Magnus Ferguson and Luke McGraw headed their way on horseback. Her pulse quickened, but she wasn’t sure why. It couldn’t be Luke. He was rude and none too friendly. It had to be Magnus. Such a handsome man. Available, too, although he’d never look at her twice.

They rode up, Magnus in the lead. While Luke briefly touched his fingers to the brim of his hat, Magnus, in a grand gesture, swept his hat off and nodded to Callie. Smiling broadly, he introduced himself to Pa. “I take it you’re Mister Whitaker?”

Caleb kept his usual stern-faced expression. “If you’re here to persuade me to join your wagon train, don’t waste your time.”

“Are you sure, Mister Whitaker?”

“Positive.”

A shadow of annoyance crossed Magnus Ferguson’s face. “Then I won’t bother you further. I’m a busy man with a wagon train to lead.” He cut a sharp glance at Luke. “Let’s go. Looks like we’ve wasted our time.”

“Go ahead. I’ll follow in a minute.” As Magnus wheeled his horse around and left, Luke dismounted, looking not the least perturbed by Caleb’s unfriendly words. “At least hear me out.”

“Make it brief.” Pa continued his task of yoking the oxen. “I’m listening.”

“Coffee, Mister McGraw?” Callie would try to make up for Pa’s rudeness.

Luke nodded. As if he’d been welcomed with open arms, he accepted the cup from Callie, took a leisurely sip, and addressed Pa again. “I’ve crossed the country several times and lived in the wilderness much of my life, so I know what I’m talking about. You don’t want to make the crossing alone. There’s safety in numbers, like when the Indians attack, or when crossing rivers, or when you get stuck in the mud. If you get injured or sick, we’ve got a doctor who’s traveling with us. And there’s also…”

By the time Luke had finished, Callie was more convinced than ever that crossing the country in a covered wagon by themselves was complete folly. They should not make the journey alone and would meet disaster unless they joined the Ferguson wagon train.

Pa listened with studied indifference, appearing engrossed in the proper yoking of his oxen. When Luke finished, Pa looked up. “Is that all?”

“Yep.”

“We’ll be going alone.”

“If Indians, dangerous river crossings, snakes, and lack of medical care can’t persuade you”— Luke shrugged—“then I wish you well on your journey, and may God be with you.”

Pa shot Luke a piercing glance. “God is with me at all times, Mister McGraw. With His help, I will continue this journey alone, without the slightest doubt we shall arrive safely in the golden land. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He turned his back and walked away.

Callie wanted to cringe at Pa’s rudeness, even though Luke didn’t seem to mind. He gave a wry grimace. “I hope he’s right.” He took a final sip of coffee and swung back on his horse. His gaze swept their campsite. “Where are your stepsisters?”

How disappointing. What he probably meant was, where is Lydia? No doubt he was smitten and wanted to see her again. “Lydia and Nellie like to sleep as late as possible. They won’t come out until it’s time to eat breakfast. Ma, too.”

Luke frowned. His jaw tightened in a way that indicated he’d like to say something but thought better of it. “You’re a hard worker.”

“I like hard work.”

“Really?” His expression held a touch of mockery. “Mind if I ask a personal question?”

“Go right ahead.” Her life was a dull open book. She had nothing to hide.

“How long have you been with the Whitakers?”

“That’s easy. From the day I was born, or soon after. They found me on their doorstep and were kind enough to take me in.”

“You don’t know who your parents are?”

“Ma suspects my mother was one of the fancy women who worked at the saloon in town. All I know is, they took me in and gave me a roof over my head. I’m forever grateful.”

“I see that. You work very hard.”

“Yes, of course I do—to repay them for their kindness.”

“Hmm…”

He seemed to be fighting to keep his words back. “You have something to say, Mister McGraw?”

“Yes, I have something to say. From what little I’ve seen, you do more than your share. By now, isn’t this debt you feel you owe paid in full?”

Nobody had ever asked her such a question before. No one had ever cared that much to ask. “It’s a debt that will never be paid in full.”

He frowned at her answer. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life being treated like a, like a…”

“Servant?”

“Yes, servant.” He sounded annoyed. “That’s not right.”

“Perhaps not, but that’s my lot in life.”

His eyes rolled skyward. He swore something under his breath then remained silent.

She surprised herself by blurting, “Would you like to stay for breakfast?”

“I’ve got to get back.” He touched a finger to his hat. “Good day then, Callie Whitaker. Have a safe journey, and for God’s sake, put a little fun in your life.”

He wheeled his horse around and headed back across the meadow. She would never see him again. She’d still be thinking about him, though. Never before had she met a man who saw her as a person, not just a servant girl. He said she was a hard worker. How strange to hear a man say something nice about her. If he’d told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world, she couldn’t have been more flattered.

“Callie, have you got breakfast ready?” Lydia appeared, tousle-headed and still in her white flannel nightgown.

“Almost. You’d better hurry up.” For once, Callie’s usually agreeable voice held an edge. She’d clearly understood Luke’s unspoken words. You work too hard. Why aren’t your stepsisters here to help?

Why not indeed? Luke’s comments had unleashed a vague feeling of resentment. Why did she have to do most of the work? According to Ma, both her stepsisters were too delicate and frail to make more than a token effort at doing chores. But were they really? Why couldn’t they do more of the work? She always ended up doing all of it, and that wasn’t right. Was she truly fated to be an unpaid servant all her life?

“Callie!” Ma called. “Soon as you finish breakfast and wash the dishes, see that Tommy is dressed and everything’s packed.”

“Yes, Ma.” Reaching for the biscuits, Callie set her rebellious thoughts aside. Ahead lay another grueling day. There’d be no time for silly resentments. She’d need every bit of energy she possessed just to survive.

* * * *

Although she never had one of her own, Callie loved horses. They had brought along several: Pa’s horse, a palomino named Duke, the mounts for Andy and Len, a reliable filly named Pearl, her buckskin yearling, Jaide. She especially loved Jaide and hoped she could train and ride him someday. In the meantime, riding Duke was one of the few pleasures of the journey. At home, she had taken care of the handsome gelding, although Pa had never let her ride him. Now, since Pa spent most of the day driving the wagon, he allowed Callie to saddle Duke and walk him alongside the train, a welcome break from having to trudge on foot. Thank goodness, Ma, Lydia, and Nellie didn’t object. They’d never shown the slightest interest in horses. Lydia, in particular, tried to avoid “the scary things.” Pa didn’t trust Tommy with any of his animals, so, to Callie’s delight, she had Duke to herself and rode as often as she could.

Today was no exception. After the two wagons started their daily trek and the handymen got the cattle moving, Callie swung into the saddle and urged Duke forward. She glanced across the meadow. The circle of wagons was gone. So they’d already left. Ah, well. The day was sunny, the heavily wooded scenery beautiful, and she shouldn’t complain, even though she wished she could have talked to Florida again, and Luke, too.

Occasionally, one of the hired hands joined her when they weren’t busy herding the hundred head of cattle. She enjoyed riding with them both. Andy, always smiling and friendly. Len, always arrogant and slightly condescending, but never boring. They both possessed a contagious enthusiasm that brightened her day, and no wonder. They were going to get rich! Soon as they got to California, they’d start gathering those gold nuggets that lay for the taking all over the ground.

Skinny, sharp-nosed Len pulled his horse alongside hers. “Little Mouse, how goes it today?”

Little Mouse. He’d picked that up from her family. She didn’t like it but never thought to object. Not until now. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

His mouth pulled into a mocking grin. “I call you that because you are a little mouse, a meek little mouse who always does what she’s told.”

“I could change.”

“You?” Len snickered. “That’ll be the day. Better stay like you are. You’re safer that way.”

She felt defeated and subdued, as she always did after any sort of confrontation and could think of nothing more to say. They rode in silence until Len remarked, “Guess your pa still wants to go it alone.”

She nodded. “What do you think?”

“I think whatever gets me to California the fastest is the way to go, and that’s traveling alone. Those big wagon trains are safer, but their pace is slower than molasses.”

She remembered Luke’s warning. “What about crossing the rivers? Won’t it be more dangerous if we’re alone?”

“Hell, no. Don’t worry about it, Little Mouse. Your pa knows what he’s doing.” Len spurred his horse and took off to chase one of the cattle that had wandered away.

Toward the end of the day, they came to the Big Blue River. The wagons of the Ferguson wagon train were parked along its banks. Not one had crossed yet. Pa, still driving the wagon with Ma beside him, shaded his eyes for a closer look. “What in the Sam Hill are they doing?”

Callie, still astride Duke, reined up beside the wagon. “It looks like they’re unloading everything.”

“Look at those fools.” Pa cast a look of disgust. “They’ll lose at least two days trying to get across.” He flicked his whip over the oxen and they started up again.

As they drew closer, Ma pointed. “Oh, look, there’s that awful woman with the bloomers. Try to avoid her, Caleb.”

Too late. Florida spotted them and waved. “Have you come to join us? Isn’t this terrible?” She spoke in a cheery voice, gesturing toward the growing pile of possessions she and her children were unloading from the wagon. “Luke says we must take everything out of the wagons. Then, what scares me to death, is we’ve got to float them across. You should join us, Mister Whitaker. There’s safety in numbers.”

Pa gave her a thin-lipped smile. “We’ll find our own place to cross farther upstream. Somewhere more shallow than this.”

Luke rode up. “Not a good idea, sir. Those shallow crossings can be tricky. A lot of them are full of quicksand. Believe me, you don’t want to get stuck.”

“I’ll take my chances.” With a look of disdain, Pa flicked the reins. The wagon started to roll again on a trail by the riverbank, headed upstream.

“If you hit quicksand, whatever you do, don’t stop!” Luke called after him.

Pa appeared not to hear and didn’t slow his pace.

Callie, still atop her horse, paused to speak to Luke and Florida. “Wish us luck.”

Florida glanced at the swift-flowing river. Her face filled with worry. “I’ll say a special prayer for you.”

Callie could tell she meant it from the bottom of her heart.

Luke, too, had a look of worry. “Be careful.” He was smiling, yet serious.

She tilted her chin in an attempt to look a lot braver than she felt. “We’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll see you on the other side.” She urged Duke into a trot and rode away. Acutely aware Luke’s gaze must be fastened on her back, she sat straight in the saddle, tall as she could, and took care not to bounce like a beginner, like Lydia would do. At least he’d think she was a good rider, although why his opinion should matter in the least, she didn’t know.

* * * *

Pa drove the first wagon, followed by Andy driving the second, nearly a mile upstream until they came to a stretch of the riverbank lined with a sparse fringe of trees. Len rode his horse partway into the stream. “This here spot is pretty shallow. I don’t think we’ll find one better.”

Callie gazed in consternation at the place they’d chosen. This was the best the boys could find? Maybe the bank wasn’t as steep, but the current still ran high and swift. She wasn’t the only one concerned.

Lydia frowned with unease. “Are you sure, Len? That river looks way too dangerous to me.”

Len laughed with scorn. “I’ll show you how dangerous it is, Miss Lydia.” Still laughing, he rode his chestnut gelding back into the river, only farther this time. “See how easy?” He held tight to the horse’s mane.

Suddenly the horse sank almost from sight. It must have stepped into a hole. In a panic, it bucked, reared and threw its rider into the water. Len came to the surface only to find the panic-stricken animal lashing out in all directions. Everyone gasped when a fatal blow of the horse’s hoof just missed his head. By some miracle, he managed to drag himself from the river and collapse exhausted on the bank. His horse scrambled out beside him. “Still think we can make it,” he panted, struggling for breath.

Callie waited for Pa to disagree, to say they should find another place, but after a careful scanning of the river, he nodded his head. “We’ll cross here, just a few feet farther upstream to avoid that hole. Andy, start driving the cattle across. We’ll follow with the wagons.”

Ma looked doubtful. “Caleb, are you sure? That water looks—”

“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. Go ahead, boys.”

Ma shut her mouth. Callie dismounted and removed Duke’s saddle. The women watched with growing concern as Len and Andy, whooping and waving their hats, drove the horses and cattle into the stream. Although an occasional errant cow balked, or swam in the wrong direction, they all made it across. When the last animal reached the opposite bank, Pa nodded with satisfaction and cast an I-told-you-so glance at his wife. “All that fuss for nothing. Get in the wagons. We’ll cross right now and be way ahead of that idiot, Ferguson.”

Andy made ready to drive the first wagon across with Ma on the seat beside him, Nelly and Lydia in the back.

Len, already on the far bank, called across. “Remember what they said, Andy. Once you get started, don’t stop for nothing.”

Andy drove the wagon down the bank and into the river. Callie caught her breath as she watched Ma gripping the seat, and Andy beside her cracking the whip above the oxen’s heads. He was yelling like she’d never heard before, encouraging the animals into the swift stream. What if the wagon tipped and they were tossed into the icy water? Nobody knew how to swim. It would be a complete disaster.

No need to worry, they made it across. Callie’s confidence soared as the wagon rolled to the top of the opposite bank and her family jumped down, all smiles. Now only she, Pa, and Tommy had yet to cross in the second wagon.

Pa grinned with satisfaction. “See how easy that was? Let’s go.”

Callie took her little brother’s hand and started toward the wagon. He pulled back and started to cry. “No, scared! Don’t want to go.”

She stopped and knelt before him. “Don’t be scared, Tommy. It’s easy.” The boy shook his head and continued to cry. She called to Pa. “We’d better wait. I need to get him calmed down.”

Pa got down off the wagon seat and strode to where they were standing. “Why are you coddling the boy?” He pointed toward the wagon. “Get him on the seat right now or I swear I’ll leave him behind.”

Callie closed her eyes in frustration. This was the worst possible way to handle the frightened child. “Pa, give me a few minutes—”

“Into the wagon now, or I swear to God, I’ll leave you both behind.”

Before she could stop him, Pa jerked Tommy from her arms, carried him screaming to the wagon, and dumped him roughly on the wagon seat. He uttered a curse. “No son of mine is going to be a coward. Come on, Callie, let’s go.”

Callie climbed onto the seat, shifting Tommy so she sat in the middle and he didn’t have to sit next to his father. She felt so powerless. All she could do was wrap an arm around the sobbing boy and hope for the best. “Hold tight, Tommy,” she whispered. “Keep your eyes closed until we get across. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Tommy squeezed his eyes closed tight. With a sharp crack of the whip, Pa urged the oxen into the river. As they rolled ever deeper into the current, Callie wanted to close her own eyes and not open them until they’d safely reached the other side. She resisted the temptation. For Tommy’s sake, she must look strong and confident, face the danger with her eyes wide open.

Why were they going so slow? Andy had raced his wagon across at top speed, cracking the whip the whole way. Not her stepfather. He seemed to be letting the oxen cross at their own measured pace. Long ago, she’d learned that questioning Pa’s actions brought abuse piled upon her head, but she couldn’t resist. “Why are we going so slow? Shouldn’t we race across so we don’t get stuck in the quicksand?”

“Hogwash.” Pa’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t pay attention to fools who shoot their mouths off. Now shut up and let me drive.”

She did as she was told, even though Len was waving his hat on the far bank, yelling, “Don’t slow down!” They reached the middle of the river without incident. Maybe Pa was right. Maybe…

The wagon came to an abrupt halt. “Getup!” Pa yelled, cracking the whip again and again over the oxen’s heads. Despite their struggles, the wagon didn’t move. Pa continued to yell, but the animals were stuck where they were. Gripped by sheer fear, Callie clasped Tommy tight. The wagon tipped sharply. Next thing she knew, she wasn’t on the seat anymore. She’d been thrown into the icy cold water, Tommy still clasped in her arms. She sank clear under and up again. Sputtering, gasping from the shock of the frigid water, she grabbed a large branch floating by. She held tight to Tommy with her other arm as the current caught them and swept them away.

Callie had no idea how far she traveled. What with her heavy boots, it was all she could do to keep her head above water, and Tommy’s, too, but there was no way she could kick them off. They were drifting closer to the far shore. She kept reaching her feet down, trying to reach bottom. For a long time she couldn’t, then all of a sudden her boot touched something hard. She could walk! She let go of the branch and staggered from the water, carrying Tommy in her arms. Thank God, she wasn’t alone. Part of the Ferguson party must have already crossed over because people came running. Gently, she laid Tommy on his back in the grass at the water’s edge where he lay unmoving, lips blue, skin deadly white. “Tommy, Tommy!” He couldn’t be dead, not this dear little boy who so depended on her. What could she do? Never had she felt so helpless.

She had a vague impression of a horse riding up, someone leaping off.

Luke knelt beside her. “He’s swallowed a lot of water. Come on, we’ll roll him over.” With Callie’s help, he rolled the boy over so Tommy lay on his stomach. “Got to get the water out.” Luke grasped the boy around his middle and lifted him up. As he did, a gush of water flowed from Tommy’s mouth. He lifted again and another gush of water followed the first. Finally Tommy coughed. It was an ugly, hacking cough, but the sound of it brought a cry of joy to Callie’s lips.

“Ah, he’s breathing.”

Luke repeated the process until Tommy’s eyelids fluttered open and he weakly gasped, “I fell in the water.”

Callie stroked Tommy’s forehead. “Yes, you fell in the water, sweetheart, but you’re going to be fine.”

Ma arrived, completely breathless. She must have run along the bank after them. When she caught her breath, she took a quick look at her son, then gazed at Luke. “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. Just a little cold and wet.”

Ma glared at Callie. “You were supposed to watch him.”

While Callie stared at her stepmother in amazement, unable to think what to answer, Luke spoke up. “You’ve got it wrong, ma’am. Callie saved the boy’s life.”

Ma appeared not to hear. “He shouldn’t just lie there. Come on, Tommy.” She yanked her son to his feet. He sagged, but she pulled him up straight.

Callie called, “He needs to rest. He—”

“Nonsense.” Ma glared at Tommy. “You got your clothes wet.” With a firm grip on his shoulder, she started to lead him away. He wobbled but managed to stay on his feet.

“What about Pa?” Callie called after them.

“He’s fine.” Ma threw the words casually over her shoulder. “So are the oxen and wagon. Andy and Len got them out. Come on, don’t just sit there. We need you.” She continued on her way, leaving Callie sitting cold and shivering on the ground.

Luke removed his buckskin jacket and placed it around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“I’m ju-ju-just fine.” She pulled the jacket close as a wave of shivering engulfed her. She’d never been so cold in all her life, but even so, Ma’s lack of sympathy and wounding words were all she could think of. Her teeth chattered. “How could she think such a thing?”

“We’ve got to get you dry. You can worry about your ma later.” Luke lifted her effortlessly in his arms.

Florida waved from her wagon nearby. “Bring her over here!” When they arrived, she declared, “Put her in the back. She’s got to get those wet clothes off or she’ll freeze to death.” Luke lifted Callie into the back of the wagon. Florida climbed in. With little help from Callie, who was too numb to move, she stripped off her boots and wet clothes, rubbed her vigorously with a towel, and wrapped her in a blessedly warm blanket. “You’re a brave girl. You saved the little boy’s life. Where did you learn to swim?”

Hugging the blanket close around her, Callie slowly stopped shivering. “I never learned to swim.” It was hard to talk through lips still numb from the cold. “There was a branch I hung on to. I did what came naturally, I guess.”

“That makes you all the braver. I’m going to get you something to wear.”

Florida had barely climbed from the wagon when Luke stuck his head in. “How are you doing?”

Startled, Callie grabbed for the blanket and pulled it higher over her chest. “I’m fine.” She wished she hadn’t acted so flustered.

Luke laughed softly. “You’re worried about modesty after you nearly drowned? Don’t worry, I didn’t see a thing.”

Perhaps it was the amused arch of his eyebrow that made her see the humor of it all, or perhaps it was the easy smile that played at the corners of his mouth, but whatever it was, she forgot her embarrassment and laughed. “You’re right. I should be thinking how lucky I am to be alive.”

Luke climbed into the wagon and squatted beside her. “I talked to your folks.”

“You did? What about?”

“Let’s just say I wanted to correct any wrong notions they might have as to how Tommy ended up in the river. The blame lies solely with your stepfather. He should never have stopped in the middle of a patch of quicksand. Matter of fact, he was a fool to make that crossing in the first place.”

“I hope you didn’t tell him that.”

“Only the part about you. I made it clear it was no fault of yours. Instead of being blamed, you should be praised and thanked for your bravery. If it hadn’t been for you, Tommy would have drowned.”

No one had ever stood up for her before. “You actually told them that?”

“I did.”

“Did they believe you?”

“I got my point across.” His gaze roamed over her. “You look like a drowned rat.”

What a hurtful thing to say, although, of course, it must be true. But was it? Detecting a faint light twinkling in the depths of his dark eyes, she realized he meant his words in a playful, affectionate sort of way. “If I look so horrible, maybe you shouldn’t look.”

“Did I say you looked horrible?”

His eyes fell to her bosom, well-covered by the blanket. She grew acutely aware of her nakedness beneath and could hardly force herself to meet his gaze. No man had ever seen her this way before, with her arms bare and her hair hanging loose and tangled about her shoulders. Could he like her? Could he possibly think she was pretty?

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Callie Whitaker.” His voice held a trace of laughter. He parted the flaps and dropped from the wagon, leaving her gazing after him, both flattered and confused.

Florida soon appeared with Callie’s spare dress, a blue calico that was every bit as faded and ill-fitting as the other one. She slipped it on, wishing she had something better to wear. She put on her boots, which Florida had set by the fire to dry, and laced them up. Luke was nowhere in sight. After thanking Florida for her help, she walked along the riverbank back to her family. The wagon that got stuck had been towed from the water and sat safely on the shore. By the time she reached it, her moment of revelation about her looks had faded from her mind. How could she possibly look anything but ugly in this horrible, ill-fitting dress? How could she possibly have thought a man as handsome and desirable as Luke McGraw could feel anything other than sympathy for a plain servant girl?

Everything was a mess. Pa was nowhere in sight. Various and sundry items from the wagon that had gotten wet were laid out haphazardly to dry. Her stepsisters were trying to build a campfire. They were choking and fanning themselves as billows of smoke blew in their faces.

“Callie! Where have you been?” Nellie cried.

Lydia stuck out her arm to show an angry red burn near her wrist. “Look here. I burnt myself trying to do your job.”

Ma appeared. When she saw Callie, she jammed her fists to her hips. “Where have you been? Look at this mess. Where were you when we needed you? Now Lydia has burned herself, I’m exhausted and Nellie…”

She rambled on, piling everything that went wrong that day directly on Callie’s head. “Now go fix supper and get caught up on your chores.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Callie listened humbly, head bowed. What trouble she had caused? She was truly sorry… But wait a minute. What, actually, had she done wrong? Why was she being blamed for anything? Hadn’t Luke and Florida praised her for saving Tommy’s life? She started to turn away then turned back again. “About Tommy—”

“Mister McGraw came by and told us what happened.” Ma paused, like it was an effort to force the words out. “So I suppose you weren’t directly to blame, but that doesn’t mean you should shirk your chores.” Ma gave her one more scathing glare and walked away.

Callie resumed her work, quiet as always, the little mouse grateful to be working for her keep. Inside, though, an emotion totally foreign to her began to brew. How dare Ma say those things when all I did was save Tommy from drowning? How dare she talk to me that way?

Soon the habits of a lifetime took over. Being of an agreeable nature, she couldn’t stay angry for long. What good would it do her? Besides, wasn’t she grateful the Whitakers had taken her in? Given her a roof over her head? Of course she was, so she shouldn’t even think of complaining and, most of all, she must remember her place.