Glass Girl (A Young Adult Novel) (13 page)

“You’re going to want these. You’ll freeze without them.” He slipped the coat on me and held a glove out for me to put my hand in. The coat smelled like hay and Henry.

“We might be gone a while,” he said. “I packed some food.” He took a packed saddlebag off a hook and laid it over Ben’s rump. Then he grabbed a stool and set it next to Trouble. “Time to saddle up.”

He steadied me on the stool, his hands on my waist. “Just put your left foot in the stirrup, grab the saddle horn and swing your right leg over.”

A smile played at the corner of Henry’s mouth. He was definitely enjoying this; in fact, the whole crowd watched, probably taking bets on how many bones I would break when I flung myself up one side of this horse and then fell down the other. I forced myself to take a breath, then I stuck my foot into the stirrup and kicked my leg over. I landed in the saddle and the leather creaked and moved under me.

“That was perfect,” Henry said. “You’re on a horse.” He smiled and reached to tighten the saddle and raise the stirrups. Trouble blew air out of his nose and I jumped, making Henry chuckle.

“He’s just telling you he likes you, Meg.” Henry’s voice was calm and controlled. “He’ll make all kinds of noises you’ve never heard, but you’re gonna love him before we get through.”

“Why did you name him Trouble?” I tried unsuccessfully to sound unruffled.

“He used to be ornery. Now he’s just old.” Henry murmured something in Trouble’s ear. Then he pulled both my wrists together and held them in one of his hands. He put the reins into my left hand, turning my hand so that my thumb was up.

He patted Trouble forcefully on the neck and told him to be a gentleman, then he took two long strides and climbed onto Ben without any effort at all. When he was settled, he looked up and caught me staring.

“Are you finished?” I said, covering. “Because no one likes a show-off.”

“Who’s showing off?” He grinned and pretended to be busy tightening some piece of leather around his saddle horn.

“Seriously, Henry, you look like a movie. I look like I’m planning to be thrown for comic relief.”

“You look just fine.”

Henry clicked his tongue and Ben eased forward out of the barn. Trouble followed without question. He had a slow, gentle gait. Henry sat almost sideways in the saddle so he could watch me and Trouble. Was he trying to decide if I’d fall on my face? I sat up a little taller and met his eyes with full-on stubborn. An amused smile flickered across his lips.

“Aren’t you gonna pony her?” James yelled from the barn.

“Nah, she’ll be okay,” Henry said, still meeting my eyes and smiling. “If Trouble decides Meg’s not the boss, I’ll pony her.”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“I’ll take your reins from you and lead Trouble myself.”

We headed onto a dirt trail carved from years of horse travel. There were huge, hazardous rocks everywhere, but Trouble stepped around them like a pro, rocking me from side to side. I pretended to be a Cheyenne guide. I pretended to be a prairie woman. I pretended Henry was my old-timey husband taking me to our new homestead. I leaned down and patted Trouble’s neck. “Good boy,” I said. “Trusty steed.”

“Doing okay back there?” Henry called.

“I have a crush on Trouble. He’ll break my heart. That is all.”

“You’re not the first girl to say that.” He whistled to Trouble, getting his attention and urging him to walk faster. “We’re headed over to the Arapaho trail. We’ll take it to the top of one of the smaller peaks in the foothills so you can see the valley.”

After crossing the shallow part of a river, the trail took a winding turn into a thick forest of pines, making the day seem darker and quiet. We passed a pine tree growing out of the center of a large boulder. The little tree was pathetic, like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.

“It’s a brave little tree, isn’t it?” Henry said. “It has no idea how impossible that is. The boulder’s split and that tree found a way through the tiny crack.”

I reached out a hand as we passed and patted the tiny tree with a dream.

“When I was a kid,” Henry said, “I’d sneak into this forest with a tent and camp out next to that rock.” He pressed his heels into Ben’s sides to get him to speed up. “You’re not actually supposed to camp in here—it’s on the reservation.”

“Did your parents know where you were?”

“Yeah, my dad’s the one who told me to do it. Wanted me to have adventures and be a man and all that. The only time I got in trouble was when I camped out on a Saturday night and didn’t show up for church Sunday morning. Dad made me double up on chores and lead singing at church for a month.”

I chuckled at the thought of an adorable young Henry leading singing. “Are you going to stay here and take over the ranch one day?”

“Well, it’s mine if I want it. It’s in my blood. One of these days, I’ll be foreman for my dad. But I’d like to see some of the world before I take it on.”

“What about college?”

“Yeah, there’s college, too. I just found out I got early acceptance to the University of Wyoming. I plan to accept, but delay entering for a year. I’ve been asked to help out with something before I go to college and I think I’m going to do it.” He threw a look back at me to gauge my reaction.

“What will you be doing?”

“Working at an orphanage in Nicaragua with my sister and her husband. They run the place. I’ve been to visit and caught the bug.”

“They want you to move there for a year?” I could barely hide my disappointment. In my experience, it was harder to be the one left behind and I was getting a little tired of playing that role.

“The better part of a year,” he said. “They started building a new dorm last year and the contractor took off without finishing it. And they need some other repairs done.” He pulled on Ben’s reins to stop him so we could talk better. “It does have a way of getting into your heart. Those kids have nothing. They’re so grateful for anything you do for them.”

“I can see you helping kids.”

“You should come down to visit. You’d want to bring those little babies home with you if you could see them. They’d fall in love with you, Meg.”

“I’d want to stay forever, I’m sure.”

He stared at me for a minute and nodded. “You probably would.” Kicking Ben gently, he turned us back onto the trail and up the hill.

“Look at the meadow down there,” he said. “Can you see the wagon ruts? A major trail came right through here. Lots of people died on that trail. They just had to bury the dead and move on without looking back.”

I stopped Trouble and stared at the wagon ruts. We’d done that to Wyatt—buried him and moved on. Except my mom had looked back.

“Hey,” Henry said, “you okay?”

“Of course. Let’s keep going.”

He pointed to a cliff on a hill across from us. “There’s a rock shelter right over there. That’ll get us out of the wind and we can eat lunch.”

W
e used tree roots as stairs to climb a steep incline, then we dropped over a boulder and down to the rock ledge. Henry steadied me by letting me hang onto his forearm. The world was eerily quiet now without the noise of the wind. He smoothed out a blanket that had been tied behind his saddle. We sat and divided up the food he’d brought.

“I knew you’d love it here.” He watched me tear into the sandwich he’d made for me. “It seems like the people who grow up here get jaded. It’s cool to watch your face, seeing these mountains for the first time. Of course, you’re getting a better tour than our average customer.”

I picked at the crust on my bread and said the first thing that came to mind. “So how many other girls have gotten the better than average tour?”

“You’re the only one.”

“I find that hard to believe.” I couldn’t look at him because I was afraid his face would prove he was mocking me.

“It’s not like I’ve had a heck of a lot of time for a social life, Meg.” He looked at me sideways, shaking his head.

“You said you’d tell me about Brooke.” I knew I was touching a nerve, but I had to know.

He groaned and looked down. “Brooke’s family and mine have been friends for years. Her granddad owns the ranch next to ours and I’ve grown up working as much with him as my own dad. Brooke and her brother spend summers here helping out and we’re all close.”

That was so not what I wanted to hear. When a boy says he’s close to a girl, it usually means he’s
close
to a girl. “Well, I don’t think she’d appreciate us being alone like this.”

He smiled and leaned back against the smooth rock behind us. “It’s not like that. Honestly, I had a crush on her, but it didn’t work out and now I see that it’s better this way. She wasn’t…we don’t have that much in common. She knows her way around a horse and a hay baler, but that’s not enough. When you’re fifteen you think it might be enough.”

I should’ve let it go, but I couldn’t. “Did she break your heart?”

He laughed and color slashed across his cheeks. “I’m not sure. I practically grew up with her. Her brother is one of my closest friends. It got all confused there for a while and I might have had my feelings hurt, but it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not even on the radar anymore.”

“Why did Grayson say those things about her?”

“Those guys were way out of line and I apologize that you heard all of that. I think Grayson has a thing for Brooke. When she’s here in the summer, he follows her around and acts like an idiot.”

He took his cap off and rubbed his short hair. “I wasn’t about to tell him anything about her that would fuel that fire. She and I hung out, but it wasn’t like they made it sound. And it wasn’t like this either, today, with you. Not for me, anyway. But none of that is Grayson’s business.”

I smiled at him. Not even Wyatt would have known how to be
this
honorable when talking about a girl that had hurt him.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So, how about you? Lots of hearts broken in Pittsburgh?”

“No.
No.
I kind of always had my nose in a book, so, if anyone was looking, I wouldn’t have known it.”

“Hmmm. What you’re saying is that you’ve never been kissed?” He picked at a string on the blanket under us.

“Did I say that?” I glared at him.

He laughed. “I imagine plenty of guys were trying to work up the nerve to ask you out this year and now you’re here. Poor fools.”

“Yes, poor fools.”

“Give me Pittsburgh in five words or less.”

“A place I once lived.”

“Chapin is better with you.” He counted the wrong way, the British way, using his thumb for “one.”

“Chapin did fine without me.”

“But I didn’t.”

“That’s three. You blew off two words.”

“Sweet Meg. But I didn’t, sweet Meg.”

“I think I can get better here,” I said.

“Fail,” he said. “And what do you mean?”

“I’m not playing anymore.” I realized I’d let the truth slide out like Henry already knew. It felt like he did know. “I really think I’m going to like it in Chapin.”

“You said ‘get better.’”

“No.”

We stared at each other. “No?” he said.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant I think I’ll
like
it better here.”

He watched me. “You’ve got a pattern going—living in towns where two rivers meet.”

“Yeah, I guess I hadn’t put that together.”

“You know the Indians believed healing could happen where the rivers meet and in the hot springs that we have all over the place here.”

“Did they prove it?”

He must have noticed the shiver that passed through me because he pulled me against him. “Want me to tell you a story about it?”

I nodded, the back of my head bumping against his shoulder.

“So,” he said. “There’s an old Shoshone story that’s famous in Chapin because it’s about one of the local hot springs. They say that this young warrior had fallen in love with a beautiful girl from his tribe. He asked the chief for permission to marry her, but before the ceremony could happen, another tribe attacked their village and slaughtered just about everyone.”

“That’s it? Everyone just died?”

“Patience, Pittsburgh.” His cheek brushed against my hair. “The warrior had been able to run to the teepee of the girl he loved just in time to see her attacked by a man from the other tribe and left for dead. He was devastated. He decided to avenge her death, then take his own life. But, first, he had to bury her properly because that was very important to this tribe. When he picked up her body, he found that her heart was still beating weakly.”

Already, the lump in my throat forced me to take smaller breaths and my shivering worsened. Henry must’ve felt it. He draped one arm around me and quietly waited until I breathed easier.

“He carried her over the Owl Creek mountain range without stopping—until he reached one of the hot springs around what became Chapin. Then he walked into the water with her and held her there for three days. He had about given up when she opened her eyes and whispered his name.”

“That’s beautiful,” I murmured.

His fingers rubbed a circle on my arm. “You’re crying.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for that.” He pressed me closer to him.

“I wish it could be true,” I said. “I wish it was possible to bring someone back like that.”

“In a lot of symbolic ways, it’s possible, right?”

“Symbolic ways don’t count,” I whispered. If they did count, I would have never walked out of my high school without Wyatt. My mother knew this…she lived in the space created by symbolism.

After lunch, we packed up and retraced our steps. Our ride back to the stable was subdued. Henry talked about being the youngest in his family and he laughed loudly about things his sisters did. His sisters had all left home. Kate and her husband John were in Nicaragua and they had Whit, Henry’s nephew. Amelia was at CU Boulder and Leah was at the University of Wyoming. He said they never gave him a break. He said they meant everything to him.

“I always wanted a sister,” I said. “I think maybe I’d be less serious all the time. We’d crack each other up.”

“I don’t think you’re too serious.” He shook his head slowly, watching me. “No, you’re pensive. There’s something sad behind those green eyes, but I’m not sure what it is yet. Whatever you’re hiding from the rest of us makes you pretty special.”