“Timere, it’s raining!” I shouted, throwing the door wide open and skipping outside.
Timere awoke as the rain spattered his face, too. Bonny and Elm paced the length of the corral, whinnying. I unlatched the gate, releasing them. They romped and reared in the mud, rejoicing in the glorious rain.
Timere exited the shack, hair pasted to his cheeks. “I can’t believe it’s raining!”
I spun in a circle, feeling as wild and alive as the horses. “Me neither! I haven’t seen rain in so long!” I tilted my head back and let the rain wash down my face.
Bonny nickered and approached me. I gazed at her. She bobbed her chin and flung her fore-hooves out, splattering me with mud. I squealed a little with laughter, and grabbed a handful of mud, tossing it at her withers. She flung more at me. I seized a second handful and hit Timere square on the shoulder. He glared in mock fury and tickled me. I shrieked with laughter, toppling over sideways.
“Timere!” I launched more mud at him.
We were all going to need baths after this. Elm rolled, and Bonny shoved Timere off his feet. We frolicked in the rain and mud for a long while.
While Timere bathed in the shack, I scrubbed Bonny and Elm in the corral. They were in high spirits—pawing the ground and tossing their forelocks often. By the time they were clean, my arms ached.
Timere laughed when he exited the shack, prepared to ride Elm to the mine. “You’re dirtier than you were the last time I saw you!”
I jabbed him with my elbow. “Your horse rolled in the mud when it was raining! It’s never taken me so long to wash a horse before.”
I was weeding my garden when Timere and Elm galloped home.
“I found silver, Etta!” Timere hollered loudly enough to scare all the birds clear out of Calico. “I’ve got lots of silver! I’m allowed to keep it!” He jumped from Elm’s back while the gelding was still in midstride, and grasped my hand, dropping several objects into it. I stared at my palm.
“How much is this worth, Timere?”
“Enough to pay off our debt,” he said excitedly. “I’ll get it cashed.”
I fingered the silver. It wasn’t beautiful or sparkling—but it was an answer to my prayers. “This is incredible.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can with it cashed,” Timere said. “Then I’ll go straight to Lane’s General Store.”
My garden produced a reasonable amount of vegetables that year—but many of them shriveled and died in the heat of summer. I was really beginning to think of Calico as home. 1895 was a good year. I turned 17, and more people than ever hired me to file hooves and gentle the flaws of their equines.
In 1896, Calico began to change. The value of silver went down to $0.57 per troy ounce—much to Timere’s fury. The population declined in number.
“It feels like everything is changing,” I said to Timere one day as I picked Bonny’s feet clean.
“Change is part of life,” he replied matter-of-factly, scrubbing at Elm’s saddle.
“I know—but that doesn’t make it any simpler.”
“Etta—the world isn’t changing around you—you’re changing with the world.”
“I know.”
Timere gently pried my knife from my fingers. “I want to show you something.”
I followed him to the shack. He rummaged through his saddlebags, and faced me when he found something. “This was my mother’s—like your necklace was your mother’s.”
As if to emphasize his point, my hand clutched at the charm of my mother’s silver pendant.
Timere revealed an ornately jeweled hair clasp. “My mother hated change, as well. She was one of my closest friends.”
“What happened to her, Timere?” I dared to inquire.
I’d never seen his expression so depressed. “My father poisoned her. I’ll never know why. He just left after he did it. I wanted to kill him.” The new fury that filled my friend’s voice was passionate.
I touched his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s in the past. I promised myself I’d never dwell on the past anymore.”
“I suppose you and I have something in common with our pasts: both our fathers betrayed our mothers.”
“I suppose you’re right. Do you want to keep the hair clasp?”
My eyes widened. “No—it was your mother’s!”
“I want you to keep it.”
“Timere…”
He moved behind me and fastened the clasp into my hair. “Please keep it. You look beautiful.”
“It’s lovely. I’ll treasure it.”
Suddenly, Bonny’s scream pierced the air, followed by loud crackling.
I scrambled to my feet and ran as fast as able down to the corral. The fence was on fire.