Paint the Wind by Pam Muñoz Ryan Page A

we set up camp for the night, I was busy putting up a portable corral, and the photographers were taking off their horses’ tack. The woman riding Artemisia forgot to half-hitch a halter around Artemisia’s neck before she removed the bridle. About that time, a stallion with his harem came over a ridge almost in our laps. All those photographers went crazy, grabbing their cameras and shooting pictures. After it was all said and done, the woman noticed Artemisia had wandered off. By then, the stallion was already circling and posturing. He came up from behind and snaked Artemisia away, right out from under our noses. I was heartsick until I was able to see how wellshe adapted back to the wild. I spotted her a few weeks ago, right after she foaled. She has a new colt. I named him Klee.”
    â€œKlee,” repeated Maya. “That’s a funny name.”
    â€œI name the horses after famous painters.”
    â€œHow come?”
    Aunt Vi leaned back on her elbows, and her eyes turned wistful, like when she sang around the campfire. “Look around. Out here in all this bigness, every single thing matters and stands out. When the horses run against the wind with their manes and tails flying, I think they look like fleeting brushstrokes of color. I consider them the artists on this enormous outdoor canvas, making it more beautiful. So I name them so. The male horses get last names and the females get first names just so we can keep the genders straight. I’mpartial to painters of the American Southwest. Others are favorites whose lives I admire or artists I teach in my classes.”
    Payton emerged from the bushes on the edge of the clearing. “Look what I found!” He ran toward them, a skinny black snake dangling from his hands.
    â€œPayton …?” warned Aunt Vi.
    He veered away and released the snake beneath an outlying willow bush. Aunt Vi shook her head and smiled at Maya. “A few days ago that might have ended up in your tent. There might be hope for that boy yet.”
    As Maya dressed, she said, “Aunt Vi, I … I did unlatch the gate … on purpose.”
    Aunt Vi nodded and pulled on her boots. “I know. Thank you for owning up. And Maya, I was a little hard on you today … on purpose. I didn’t expect you to fall,though. You gave me a scare. But you did good anyway. You’re a natural, just like a Limner.”
    As Maya followed Aunt Vi back to camp, she hugged her towel. She couldn’t stop thinking about everything Aunt Vi had said. About her mother and the river and the wild horses. And about being a Limner. Her face pinked from the afternoon sun, but she beamed as much on the inside as she did on the out.

A RTEMISIA LED THE FAMILY TOWARD THE GULCH . K LEE high-stepped next to her with sprightly freedom. Since his birth only a few weeks ago, he had grown and filled out, his hair now fluffy with thick whorls of brown and white. With newfound bravado, Klee tried to prance in front of Artemisia, but she crowded his progress until he stopped. Georgia jogged forward to babysit, keeping Klee a safe distance behind their pilot .
    As the band moved into the lowlands closer to the water hole, three figures appeared on the rise of the hill. Artemisia stopped and raised her head in their direction, ears alert. One was the familiar woman, who often watched them for hours but had never been a threat. Sargent’s ears twitched upright and he whinnied as if asking, “Is everything all right?” Artemisiawhinnied back to him with reassurance and continued toward the drinking spot. Sargent wasn’t satisfied and continued to stare at the observers. His authoritative posture announced, “Don’t approach or you will have to deal with me.” When he sensed no danger, he followed the band .
    Artemisia noticed that Mary, who was known to dally, slowed behind the rest, but then saw Sargent come up from behind and bite her on the flank. Mary