Katie and the Mustang, Book 3 by Kathleen Duey Page B

mother’s book and the one I had bought in Council Bluff through the thin blanket. I had barely read since we’d left Council Bluff. I wondered if the Kyler girls were reading the magazines that Annie had gotten for them.
    I was so chilly and so worried that I found myself daydreaming. Maybe once I was settled in my uncle Jack’s house, I could read to his children every night. The idea made me smile as I climbed out over the wagon gate.
    I looked at the river. The Platte wasn’t half as big as the Missouri. And it couldn’t be that deep. The banks were so wide it had just spread out.
    â€œI’m ready,” I called out, jumping off the wooden step at the back of the wagon.
    Mrs. Kyler nodded and smiled at me. I looked around. Mr. Kyler had gone.
    â€œBenton said they’re trying to decide where to cross,” she told me, pointing. “But they’re still arguing, I think.”
    I turned to see the men walking along the edge of the water, talking and gesturing. Mr. Teal was there and Mr. McMahon, and Mr. Silas and a dozen others, but they kept their voices low, and we couldn’t hear anything they were saying.
    Mr. Kyler finally came back. “We’re going to go on across,” he said evenly. “Down there a little ways.” He gestured.
    I heard Mrs. Kyler sigh. Mr. Kyler heard her, too, and he put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Mary. Mr. Teal waded out nearly halfway. It isn’t that deep. We aren’t even going to string up the ropes.”
    I breathed out in relief, but then he turned to me. “But it’s too deep for you. No one is going to walk stock across, Katie. Andrew and the boys are going to run the horses across last.”
    I started to argue, but he shushed me.
    â€œKatie, I want you to ride in the wagon and leave that stallion to the men.”
    I lifted my chin, stunned into silence. Then I found my voice. “What if he runs off?”
    He shook his head. “Child, Andrew knows how to handle a horse. The mares won’t run, and the stallion won’t leave them behind. I want you in the wagon.” The last sentence was a command.
    â€œHe’s right, Katie,” Mrs. Kyler said before I could speak. “We promised Hiram to get you safe to Oregon and we don’t take promises lightly in the Kyler family.”
    â€œBut I’ll be fine walking him!” I managed.
    They both shook their heads.
    â€œI’m going to take him over to Andrew right now,” Mr. Kyler insisted, then turned to go.
    I started to run toward the Mustang, but Mrs. Kyler caught me in her arms and held me tight. Mr. Kyler walked up to the Mustang slowly and untied the lead rope. He tugged it lightly, and the Mustang followed him. “See?” he said, glancing back. “He’s gentler than you think he is.”
    â€œAndrew will take good care of him, Katie,” Mrs. Kyler said. “You know he will.”
    I felt my heart miss a beat, then start again. I wriggled against her, and she let me slide to the ground. I was breathing hard, my heart slamming against my ribs. I felt almost ill. It was wrong for me to be separated from the Mustang. He needed me. What would happen if he did get spooked?
    Mrs. Kyler set her hand lightly on my shoulder, and I moved away from her. I watched Mr. Kyler leading the Mustang away for as long as I could stand it, then I ran to the back of the wagon and climbed in. I slumped down against my blanket and started to sob. I used my old trick, the one I learned at the Stevenses’ house. I opened my mouth wide, letting the convulsions of breath pass out of my body almost silently. If Mrs. Kyler heard me, she left me alone, and for that I was grateful.
    After a time, I managed to stop crying, and I stood up to straighten my dress as much as I could. Then I went down the ladder and forced myself to look toward the milling band of stock that Andrew Kyler and his brothers were