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teasing me with a wide smile.
    “Must have kissed the sun,” I teased back,
knowing it came from Ma, as hers looked as bright as mine did.
    “What kind of pies did you make?” he
asked.
    “Dried peach and apple with just enough sugar
to make you sweet!”
    It was an old joke between us, and lightened
tension in the air when my brothers laughed.
    “Did the Paiute follow you home?” I
asked.
    “Nothing for you to worry about,” Pa said.
“Your brothers and I would never let them hurt our women. Come on,
boys. Those Indians will just have to wait.”
    On the trip back to the house, Peter and Paul
bragged about how much they had done, until the chickens
clucked.
    “Move it, you two. Looks like you forgot at
least one of your chores,” Pa said. “Knowing your mother, she'll
want eggs for flapjacks in the morning.”
    Peter and Paul trotted over to the coop and
were soon flinging dried corn in all directions. Pa took the rest
of the boys to the wash shed to clean up. Ma and I pulled the
napkins off the food and had everything ready when the men took
their places.
    “Coming through,” Paul bellowed.
    He and Peter raced through the door, each
holding a basket brimming with eggs. Both looked as if they'd
chased every chicken halfway across the state, what with all the
poop spattered on their hands and the sweaty dirt on their faces.
Ma pointed at the counter.
    “Best you hurry and clean up,” she said.
“We're about to say our prayer.”
    Water splashed from the lean to outside the
front door. The boys returned with red faces and droplets
splattering in all directions from their hair. When they took their
seats, Pa bowed his head.
    “Lord, thank you for bringing us together
once again as a family. Thank you for the good health of my wife,
sons, and daughter. Bless this food our women have provided and
guide us as we work to overcome the obstacle we've discovered in
our path.”
    “Amen,” Ma said.
    Quiet reigned as they served. After the boys
dug in, and made the appropriate thankful noises, I ate my meal.
For the first time ever, I felt satisfaction about all the time I
spent in the kitchen.
    “What happened, Michael?” she asked.
    “Indians, Louisa,” Pa commented. “We need to
find out what the Pony wants done with the horses I rescued. Adam
and Bart will stay here when I go to Carson City.” He glanced at
everyone. “Peter and Paul will make this trip. It's time they took
on more responsibility.”
    “Abigail and I can take care of the chores
around here if you need to take Adam and Bart with you,” she
said.
    Her voice sounded very scared. That surprised
me more than anything else did. She was never afraid of
anything.
    “We're very isolated,” he said. “I'd rather
the older boys stayed home.”
    None of my brothers offered an opinion, not
even Peter and Paul who squirmed on the bench beside me as if they
had ants in their pants. Something was very wrong if Pa wanted two
of my older brothers to stay home instead of going up to the Pony
Station.
     

Chapter Six
     
    After removing the
supper dishes from the table, I placed a pile of smaller plates
beside Pa, moved the pies in front of him, and sat back down to
wait for dessert. I always got last choice and ended up with
whatever no one else wanted, the smallest piece.
    “What kind of pie would you like, Abigail?”
he asked.
    Everyone's jaws dropped open. I thought I
heard a gigantic thud as my brothers' chins hit the table.
    “Peach,” I said. “Thank you, Pa.”
    He cut me a huge slice of pie and set it on a
plate. Pa passed the pie to Adam, who leaned past Peter and set the
plate in front of me. It was almost too much to bear, but I waited
until everyone else had their dessert before digging my fork into
the peaches. A piece of pie had never tasted so good, not even when
I had to do all the supper dishes while Ma took Peter and Paul to
the barn to do their chores.
    When I finished, I sat on a chair in the
parlor and worked on a doily, my