said, “I quite agree. Olivia and I will discuss it when the opportunity arises.”
Watching the girl right then, Gib had noticed how a muscle in her cheek tightened and twitched angrily. And when she caught Gib looking, her glare was fiercer than ever. Gib couldn’t help wondering what he’d done to make her so angry.
At their end of the table Hy said nothing at all unless he was spoken to, and neither did Gib. Remembering Hy’s warning, Gib had been careful to be very quiet.
Outside the cabin the wind increased, hissing around corners and rattling loose shingles, so that even after the pictures faded Gib couldn’t fall asleep. It was then that the questions began. Hy had answered some of them, but now it seemed that there were even more that had been left unanswered. Questions about exactly where his home had been and what it had been like, and why his memories had always been so vague and confused. There was so much more that he wanted to know.
Then there was another question that hadn’t occurred to him at first but that now seemed to be terribly important. Why had Mr. Thornton come for him? If the Thorntons had known him all those years ago, and had known he was at Lovell House, why hadn’t they come to get him before? Why did they wait until ... But then, suddenly, Gib thought he knew at least that one answer. Buster had given him the answer when he had explained how nobody wanted to farm out a boy who was too young to be useful.
Gib sighed. So that was it, then. He had definitely been farmed out, just like Georgie and Herbie. He was here at the Thorntons’ as what Buster had called slave labor, an unpaid milker of cows and gatherer of eggs and cleaner of stalls and who knew what else.
Rolling over on the squeaky cot, Gib rewrapped himself in blankets and tried, just as he’d always tried at Lovell House, to concentrate on hopeful thoughts. Like the food, for instance. Unless this evening had been a special occasion, which nobody had said it was, it certainly didn’t look like he was going to starve to death, at any rate.
And then there was that other, even more comforting, thought. The one about how Hy had called him the new wrangler. A wrangler was the cowboy who was in charge of the horses on roundup. Rolling over again, Gib wrapped himself in the thought of being a wrangler, and before long went to sleep.
Chapter 18
G IB WENT TO SLEEP that first night at the Thorntons’ dreaming about horses, but he woke up the next morning wondering about school. It was a school day, and if he had still been at Lovell House he would soon have been in the seniors’ classroom studying history and the parts of speech—and trying to keep from smiling when Jacob made faces behind Mr. Harding’s back.
It was surely a school day in Longford too, although nothing had been said about whether Gib would be attending. Perhaps he wouldn’t be going to school at all? He smiled, thinking what Jacob would say about some people having all the luck. But Buster hadn’t been feeling that way when he said that some farmed-out kids didn’t get to go to school at all.
Gib was planning to ask Hy about school, but he hadn’t yet mentioned it when the subject came up without his asking. It happened as they were on their way to the cow barn in the pale half-light of early dawn, on what was looking to be the start of an extra-warm spring day.
“Gotta shake a leg,” Hy was saying. “Way the boss has things laid out, we gotta get the feedin’ and milkin’ done afore breakfast time, and the bays hitched up to the buggy too. Elsewise Miss Livy’ll be late for school agin.”
Gib’s opinion of Livy and small girls in general went up a notch. “Livy drives the bays to school?” he asked, surprised and impressed.
Hy chuckled. “Naw. I guess she’d like to well enough, but she rides into town with her pa when he goes in to the bank, ’cept when the weather’s real bad. But she’s the one who has to hurry. Guess schoolmarms
Watching the girl right then, Gib had noticed how a muscle in her cheek tightened and twitched angrily. And when she caught Gib looking, her glare was fiercer than ever. Gib couldn’t help wondering what he’d done to make her so angry.
At their end of the table Hy said nothing at all unless he was spoken to, and neither did Gib. Remembering Hy’s warning, Gib had been careful to be very quiet.
Outside the cabin the wind increased, hissing around corners and rattling loose shingles, so that even after the pictures faded Gib couldn’t fall asleep. It was then that the questions began. Hy had answered some of them, but now it seemed that there were even more that had been left unanswered. Questions about exactly where his home had been and what it had been like, and why his memories had always been so vague and confused. There was so much more that he wanted to know.
Then there was another question that hadn’t occurred to him at first but that now seemed to be terribly important. Why had Mr. Thornton come for him? If the Thorntons had known him all those years ago, and had known he was at Lovell House, why hadn’t they come to get him before? Why did they wait until ... But then, suddenly, Gib thought he knew at least that one answer. Buster had given him the answer when he had explained how nobody wanted to farm out a boy who was too young to be useful.
Gib sighed. So that was it, then. He had definitely been farmed out, just like Georgie and Herbie. He was here at the Thorntons’ as what Buster had called slave labor, an unpaid milker of cows and gatherer of eggs and cleaner of stalls and who knew what else.
Rolling over on the squeaky cot, Gib rewrapped himself in blankets and tried, just as he’d always tried at Lovell House, to concentrate on hopeful thoughts. Like the food, for instance. Unless this evening had been a special occasion, which nobody had said it was, it certainly didn’t look like he was going to starve to death, at any rate.
And then there was that other, even more comforting, thought. The one about how Hy had called him the new wrangler. A wrangler was the cowboy who was in charge of the horses on roundup. Rolling over again, Gib wrapped himself in the thought of being a wrangler, and before long went to sleep.
Chapter 18
G IB WENT TO SLEEP that first night at the Thorntons’ dreaming about horses, but he woke up the next morning wondering about school. It was a school day, and if he had still been at Lovell House he would soon have been in the seniors’ classroom studying history and the parts of speech—and trying to keep from smiling when Jacob made faces behind Mr. Harding’s back.
It was surely a school day in Longford too, although nothing had been said about whether Gib would be attending. Perhaps he wouldn’t be going to school at all? He smiled, thinking what Jacob would say about some people having all the luck. But Buster hadn’t been feeling that way when he said that some farmed-out kids didn’t get to go to school at all.
Gib was planning to ask Hy about school, but he hadn’t yet mentioned it when the subject came up without his asking. It happened as they were on their way to the cow barn in the pale half-light of early dawn, on what was looking to be the start of an extra-warm spring day.
“Gotta shake a leg,” Hy was saying. “Way the boss has things laid out, we gotta get the feedin’ and milkin’ done afore breakfast time, and the bays hitched up to the buggy too. Elsewise Miss Livy’ll be late for school agin.”
Gib’s opinion of Livy and small girls in general went up a notch. “Livy drives the bays to school?” he asked, surprised and impressed.
Hy chuckled. “Naw. I guess she’d like to well enough, but she rides into town with her pa when he goes in to the bank, ’cept when the weather’s real bad. But she’s the one who has to hurry. Guess schoolmarms
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