Blaze shook his head, smiling despite himself. He worked the comb down the mare’s flank in steady strokes, dust rising into the light.
From the porch, their mother’s voice carried.
“Blaze, Rachel, don’t waste the morning jawin’. Horses don’t brush themselves.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Blaze called back.
Rachel mimicked under her breath, “Yes, ma’am,” and flicked a bit of dust at him with the brush.
He gave her a sharp look, but his grin returned a moment later.
They worked side by side until the mare’s coat shone. Blaze stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow.
“She’s ready,” he said.
Rachel gave the horse one last pat. “Ready for town, you mean. Think Ma will let you go this time?”
Blaze shook his head. “Somebody’s gotta stay here.”
“You never go,” Rachel said.
“I’ll go when Ma says so,” Blaze replied.
Rachel pursed her lips. “You don’t want to?”
“Don’t make a difference,” Blaze said.
Rachel leaned her arms on the rail. “Mrs. Kane says people still talk about Pa in town. You oughta hear it yourself.”
Blaze’s jaw tightened. “I don’t need to hear it.”
“She said Pa stole gold from the Riders,” Rachel said in a rush, like the words were heavy on her tongue.
Blaze froze, then gave the mare a firm slap on the hindquarters, sending her trotting into the corral. Dust rose around his boots.
“She don’t know what she’s talkin’ about,” he said.
“She sounded sure,” Rachel pressed.
“People sound sure about a lot of lies,” Blaze said. His voice had an edge now.
Rachel glanced at him, eyes searching. “So, he didn’t?”
Blaze stared past the corral, toward the hazy mountains in the distance.
“No,” he said flatly.
His sister didn’t ask again.
***
Their mother came down the porch steps, skirts brushing the dirt. Her dark hair was pinned tight, though strands hadslipped loose. She carried a basket in one hand and wore a weary look in her eyes.
“You two near done?” she asked.
“Done,” Blaze said.
Rachel nodded quickly.
