"The sun was never this hot back home!" Mary complained crossly, to no one in particular.She set down her bucket and stretched. Her arms ached from carrying it. Her legs ached too, from walking beside the wagon all day. She could have ridden, but she knew from weeks and weeks on the road that the rough ride always made her back hurt.
Wearily, she swiped the back of her hand across her forehead to push damp strands of brown hair out of her eyes. It didn't seem fair that Papa had put her to work right away. Just when she thought she could rest!
She remembered what he had said. "The oxen are thirsty, Mary, and they have worked all day. When they have water from the stream, you can sit."
Stubbornly, she looked at the bucket on the ground. She didn't want to pick it up again. "I'm thirsty too! And I'm hot, and my feet are puffy and they hurt."
She looked over at the stream. Who would know if she took a few extra minutes and cooled her feet in the brook?
Before she had a chance to think better of it or remember how hot everybody else was too, her shoes and socks were off. She sat on the grassy bank and lowered her feet into the cold water.
It rumbled gently across the soles of her feet and between her toes. At that moment, Mary couldn't think of anything she'd rather be doing. Well, maybe one. She leaned back to look down the path to the camping area. How long might it be before someone came looking for her?
Maybe, just maybe, she had enough time to wade out and splash some water on the back of her neck. She gathered her skirt over her left arm to keep it dry, and carefully stepped out into the stream. The rocks wobbled a bit beneath her feet, but the water was deeper and cooler here.
When she got near the middle, Mary faced upstream. Then she reached down with her free hand to scoop up a handful of water.
Suddenly, a silvery shape flashed past her hand!
"Oh!" Mary cried out, and snatched her hand back quickly. But the abrupt motion shifted her weight, and her right foot slid off the wobbly rocks.
Dropping her skirt, she made frantic circles with her arms in the air. She bent backward and forward and backward again, trying to regain her balance. But her skirt hem, now very wet, tugged her downward and backward, pulled by the traitorous waters.
Kersplat! She sat down hard, splashing water simply everywhere.
"It was just a fish!" Mary muttered, disgusted with herself. "Now I'm all wet. My dress, my face, my hair! And I've nothing to dry off with either."
Well, there was no help for it. She'd have to go back to camp wet. She wrung her skirt out as well as she could. Then she lifted the bucket and trudged back up the path. At least she was cool now.
But one thing was sure, she wasn't going to tell Papa and Mama what had really happened!
By the time she neared the camp, Mary had decided on just the right pitiful look. She was going to have to twist the truth a little, but she was pretty good at that by now. If she played it just right, someone else would have to go back for the second bucket of water.
Margaret, who was helping Mama and Aunt Ellen fix dinner, spotted her sister first. Her eyes opened wide and her hand flew up to cover her mouth.
Mary looked at her suspiciously. Was Margaret laughing? That would never do! So Mary sniffled. Once, twice, three times. She sounded so forlorn by that time that she even convinced herself something awful had happened. Soon she was sobbing. She sat down on the grass and put her head in her hands and just cried.
Mama came running over with Margaret, who was plainly sorry for seeing any humor in her sister's trouble.
"Mary! What happened? You're all wet!" Mama bent down beside her and smoothed the hair back from her face.
"I f-f-fell!" Mary blubbered, quite convincingly.
"Oh, sweetie. Are you hurt?"
Mary just cried some more.
"I'll finish watering the oxen," Margaret offered.
Mama glanced up briefly, nodded, then turned back to Mary. "Can you stand? Let me help you get some dry clothes on."
By dinnertime, Mary was dried off and comfortably cool. For the first time on the whole trip, people had paid more attention to her than to Sarah. She decided she liked it.
But Papa hadn't fussed over her at all. He had looked her over carefully when Mama brought her back to the wagon, but he hadn't said a word.
He watched her as they all ate dinner. Then he excused himself to get more water for the animals. In just a few minutes, he returned, carrying the bucket in one hand and in the other -- oh! Mary's shoes and socks! She'd forgotten all about them!
He poured water for the oxen first, then walked firmly over to his younger daughter.
"You left these down by the stream," he told her. "Good thing they didn't get wet! Shoes dry slowly."
He looked at her steadily, with his hand curled over his chin. He stroked the underside with his big blacksmith's thumb, awaiting her answer.
"Oh," she said. "Thank you, Papa."
A disappointed look crossed his face for an instant, then vanished. He breathed once, deeply, then nodded and turned away.
Mary was still puzzling over it when she fell asleep that night. Why had Papa looked so sad over a pair of forgotten shoes?
The next day was hot again. By noon, Mary was sticky. She'd love to sneak off to the stream again. But Papa was still watching her carefully, waiting for something.
Well, then, she'd talk to Mama.
She found her down by the trees, gathering firewood. She sat down on a stump and pouted.
"It's so hot and horrible, Mama! And there's nothing to do!"
"Just wait, Mary." She smiled a secret kind of smile. "Aunt Ellen is planning--"
Mama stopped mid-sentence. "Well, you'll see. Can you help me pick up some twigs for kindling?"
Surprised, Mary didn't think to complain at the new task. She picked up handfuls of sticks and twigs, and she wondered, all the way back to the wagon.
Sarah came running over to greet her. Mary was very glad that her cousin was willing to come out of her wagon now.
"Mary! Mama told me something!" Sarah's eyes were bright. She was smiling.
"What? Is she planning something?" Mary asked.
"Yes! A party to cheer us up!! She said we're about as miserable now as we're going to get before we see Aunt Hilda. It's a wonderful time for a party, she thinks. And so do I!"
"When?" Mary asked, curiously.
"This afternoon. Oh, it'll be so grand!" Sarah whirled, her skirts flying outward and then swooshing back down and whipping against her legs as she stopped suddenly. "You know what this means, don't you?"
Mary perked up. Was this the party Sarah had talked about earlier? The one where. . .
"Will we have gifts?"
Sarah nodded eagerly. "Yes! And Papa has gone to town to bring back a real cake!"
The party was a wonderful success. Uncle James had brought back a beautiful chocolate cake and some fresh-pressed grape juice. Aunt Ellen found flowers along the stream bank and decorated the tables. Mama had a whole schedule of games planned.
The tug-of-war was first. Mary and Sarah won against Margaret, but just barely. Margaret took Edward by the hand so he could play Blindman's Bluff. The adults joined them too, for that game, which they played till they were all quite tired. Then Mama announced a sack race. Papa won that, with Edward on his back. Margaret had wrapped another sack around him to keep him safe while Papa bounced.
Everybody had a wonderful time. Mary smiled bigger than she had in months.
She couldn't help it. Every minute, her mind was on the present Sarah had promised. She could hardly wait to unwrap it and hear the silvery sounds she remembered from the street in New York City.
And finally, the moment arrived. Aunt Ellen brought out two gifts, wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with string. They were both about the same size. She handed Sarah the first one. Sarah tore into it quickly. From inside, she lifted a handful of leather straps. She frowned, puzzled, until she got it all the way out of the wrapper.
"Oh! A bridle and bit!" She smiled in recognition, then frowned again. "But I don't have a horse!"
"Now you do, Sarah," said her father. He led her over to the brook, and pulled some branches aside. There, drinking from the rushing water, was the most beautiful little black horse Mary had ever seen. He lifted his head, and when he saw them, he whinnied.
Sarah's mouth dropped open, and then she squealed and threw her arms around her father.
"What are you going to name him, Sarah?" her mother asked, laughing. "We thought you and Mary could go riding together, when you get tired of walking."
Sarah stroked the black horse's nose and thought. Finally she spoke. "I got him by a little river. I don't know its name, but he's going to be a New York City horse anyway. I'll call him Hudson."
So Hudson he was.
In the excitement, Mary had almost, but not quite, forgotten her own present! But now Aunt Ellen brought that out, too.
"This is for you, Mary," she said. "I know you'll enjoy it."
Mary was careful with her wrappings. She didn't want to damage the gift inside. She carefully peeled back the layers until a small box lay in her lap.
She held her breath and lifted the lid.
Mary's smile drooped into a frown.
What was this? Ribbons? She pulled the lid all the way off and picked up a big handful to be sure. Yes. Hair ribbons. Yards and yards of multicolored hair ribbons.
And nothing else.
She bit her lip. Was this a joke? Were they all laughing at her?
She glanced over at Sarah. Her cousin was as horrified as she was.
But Mama and Papa, Aunt Ellen and Uncle James, and even Margaret looked like they expected her to be happy with this!
She clenched her fist around the ribbons and stuffed them in her pocket.
Then she closed her eyes. She would not cry. But the ache inside her was making it hard to breathe. She blinked quickly to stop the tears that threatened to squeeze out from between her eyelids.
Ribbons! Oh, why did they have to be ribbons? Suddenly, she just didn't care what anybody thought.
Very deliberately, Mary threw the ribbon package down on the ground.
She ignored her parents' shocked looks and stomped away.
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