Katie and the Mustang, Book 3 Read Online Free PDF Page B

Kyler said. She walked around to the front of the wagon and opened the carry box under the seat. When she came back, I saw she had a pink bonnet in her hands. “I stitched it up out of one of my old aprons. I hope you like pink.”
    I nodded. I did like pink well enough, but I hated bonnets. The way the coal-bucket face-shade stuck out, you couldn’t see much to either side unless you turned your head way around. But I knew she meant well.
    I took it and admired the stitching and thanked her twice. She was kind, and I was grateful to be traveling with her. I tucked the bonnet in my blanket roll so it would be safe. She saw me putting it away.
    She frowned. “I can’t make you wear it, but your skin will darken from the sun.”
    I nodded. “I know. I just hate the strings under my chin and the way you have to turn half way round to see what is going on. The Mustang wouldn’t like it either, I am sure, and—”
    She laughed and I didn’t bother to finish my list of excuses. “I hate them, too,” she told me. “But later on, when the sun gets fierce, you might want it.”
    â€œI’ll keep it forever just because you made it,” I said, without knowing I was going to say it. It sounded silly, the way it came out, but Mrs. Kyler smiled, and I knew she had understood it the way I’d meant it.
    â€œThe Mustang is holding his weight,” I said after a minute, to change the subject. “I try real hard to find him extra grazing every day.”
    Mrs. Kyler nodded approvingly. She was a horse-woman, after all. “So are ours so far,” she said. “Andrew manages to let them graze every few hours, then he’ll trot them hard to catch up. The rest of the boys have been running the spare oxen closer to the wagon.”
    I smiled. When she said “the boys,” she meant her grown sons. They had only granddaughters so far.
    â€œMary?”
    Mrs. Kyler looked up. Andrew’s wife was standing at the edge of the firelight. She had baby Rachel on her hip. “Yes, Hannah?” Mrs. Kyler answered.
    I glanced up. It was almost light out. I could see Rachel’s pouty little mouth and her big round eyes.
    â€œWhat is it?” Mrs. Kyler asked, and her voice was full of concern.
    It was only then that I looked at Hannah instead of her baby and saw that her face was tight and angry.
    â€œRemember Snow? The white cat the girls brought along?”
    Mrs. Kyler nodded. “Of course. She came from one of our barn cat’s litters.”
    Hannah let out a long breath. “She’s been running around a while every night. They just open the box and let her roam around a little.”
    Without speaking, Mrs. Kyler pulled the skillet off the fire and went to knock gently on the side of the wagon. Inside, Mr. Kyler woke and turned over, then got up. We could all hear the wooden wagon bed creaking as he stood up to stretch.
    â€œI am hoping you aren’t going to tell me that a coyote has gotten the cat,” Mrs. Kyler said, turning back.
    Hannah took a deep breath. “Well, they couldn’t find it last night. They looked for an hour or more before Ellen could get Polly to go to bed. Once she was quiet, Julia and the little ones gave up, too.”
    Hannah glanced at me, and I lowered my eyes for a moment, then lifted them again and met her gaze. I didn’t want her to think that I had had anything to do with the cat being killed.
    â€œOh dear,” Mrs. Kyler said. “That sounds like a coyote.”
    Hannah shook her head. “No. That would be better. It would at least make sense.”
    Mrs. Kyler tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
    Rachel started to fuss, and Hannah shifted her from one hip to the other. When she looked up again, her eyes were shiny with tears. “We found Snow this morning, dead. The girls are all crying and devastated. But the odd thing is that there wasn’t a tooth mark on her.