Katie and the Mustang, Book 2 by Kathleen Duey

to decide anything ever again.
    When I finally stepped back, I began to talk to the Mustang, explaining everything that had happened. “I want to go,” I finished. “But the Kylers all have their own families, and none of the girls like me. And I’ll have to sleep in or near their wagons and see them all the time and—”
    The sound of someone softly clearing his throat made me whirl around. It was Hiram.
    The sky was getting lighter. I could see the strain on his face. He was exhausted, and he wanted desperately to have things turn out as well as they could. He cared about me. He loved Annie, but he cared about me, too.
    â€œAnnie asked me to tell you that everyone just wants you to do what you feel is right,” he said.
    â€œI want to go.” The words just came out of my mouth, and I knew they were true. I had to find my real family. I needed to find them.
    Hiram nodded. “Then you should. You can take most of the supplies. The Kylers will fit in the bacon and the rest.” He looked into my face. “Are you sure?”
    The Mustang tossed his head, then rubbed his cheek on my shoulder. I tangled my fingers in his mane. I felt so lost. It wasn’t like I was leaving my home again. I had no home, not in any real way. But I was leaving Hiram. Annie was right. He was a good man. But the only family I had was in Oregon, and I had to find them or my whole life would be like this... leaving places that weren’t really home. The idea of never belonging anywhere terrified me.
    â€œI’m going,” I said quietly. Then I cleared my throat and said it more clearly.
    Hiram didn’t answer for a moment. When he did, his voice was kind. “I’ll tell them all. You need to get your things moved. Teal is starting to line up the wagons.”
    â€œI’ll make it quick,” I promised.
    And I did. Hiram helped me. It took less than ten minutes to get my share of the foodstuffs to the Kylers’ wagon. My blanket bundle fit beneath a pile of Mrs. Kyler’s quilts. I washed my face and hands from our barrel of water, then led the mares over to Andrew. He was holding the stock, letting them mill in circles, grazing on the beaten grass of the clearing.
    Hiram hitched up the oxen and moved the wagon over toward the line, but not too close. He found a spot beneath a cottonwood tree.
    Two of Annie’s brothers formed a chair by joining arms. Annie sat in it, an arm around each of their shoulders as they carried her across the grass to the little wagon. Andrew came behind, bringing her chair. Once she was seated comfortably where she could watch her family depart, Hiram and her brothers moved her things from the Kylers’ wagon into Hiram’s.
    The camp buzzed like a kicked beehive as the Kylers prepared to leave. Mrs. Kyler ran to give Annie another quilt and began another long, tearful good-bye. Hannah, Ellen, and the rest took turns hugging her. Her brothers kept finding reasons to ask her something, to stand beside her and touch her hair. They were all afraid of the same thing, I knew. Few people undertook the risk of this journey twice. They might never see Annie again.
    I stood near the Kylers’ wagon, waiting, trying to stay out of the way. Then Hiram found me, and I walked the Mustang over to our little wagon for the last time. “I will be proud if Annie and I ever have a daughter as strong and brave as you are, Katie,” he said.
    I tried not to cry. I hugged Hiram, and Annie tipped her head so I could kiss her on her cheek. “I promise to repay you one day for the provisions and everything else,” I told Hiram.
    He took my hands in his and looked into my face. “Katie, you have given me back everything that ever mattered to me. You thawed my heart.” I stood very still and watched him step back to place his hand on Annie’s shoulder.
    â€œAnd I will always be grateful for that,” Annie whispered.
    At that instant, the