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  He raised one eyebrow. “Anything else?”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek, gathering courage. “How much do folks pay you to have their picture took?”

  “Twenty-five cents.”

  “How much o’ that you gonna give me?”

  “Two cents.”

  She frowned. “That ain’t much.”

  “You won’t be doing much. Simply holding the reins.”

  “An’ keepin’ him from buckin’, boltin’, or bitin’. Ain’t that worth more’n two cents?”

  He sighed. “Very well. Three cents.” His forehead furrowing, he pointed at her. “But that’s my final offer, and it applies only if you control the animal so I can take a suitable photograph.”

  Cissy grinned and stuck out her hand. “You got a deal.”

  Mr. Temperance shook her hand. “Be at the corral no later than one thirty tomorrow. I intend to open the photograph booth at two.”

  She pulled loose. “I’ll be here. Make sure the burro’s clean an’ lookin’ pretty.”

  He pursed his lips.

  “I gotta get now. See you tomorrow.” She scampered a few feet away, then remembered something. She turned back. “Mr. Temperance, what’s the burro’s name?”

  “As far as I know, he doesn’t have one.”

  That wasn’t right. Every critter should have a name. “He does now. We’ll call him Beauregard. Beau for short.” She waved at the photographer, then flapped her hand at Beauregard. “Bye, Beau! See you tomorrow!” She lit out for home as if her feet had wings.

  Rebekah

  Rebekah coiled a strand of Trudy’s damp hair around her finger and then tied it with a piece of rag. In the morning the little girl would have lovely curls for church. Rebekah reached for another rag.

  Cissy flopped onto her tummy next to Rebekah. The entire bed bounced, and the strips of muslin danced out of reach. Cissy propped her chin in her hands and grinned. “It’s kinda like havin’ a party with you sleepin’ over, Bek.”

  Rebekah stifled the complaint rising on her tongue. Cissy had been in an exceptionally good mood all evening. She shouldn’t spoil it by scolding. So she smiled at her sister and gathered the rag strips in a pile beside her knee again.

  “Had my party all day.” Jessie sat cross legged on the next bed with her nightgown scrunched up over her knees, examining the pink lines marking her calves. “Didn’t even mind gettin’ all scratched up when Bek took that horse o’ hers between prickly shrubs. I wish I could go ridin’ with Bek an’ Mr. Bale every Saturday.”

  Della nudged her. “Quit your braggin’, Jess. The rest of us had to work. We didn’t get to go gallivantin’ through the hills with Bek’s good-lookin’ fella.”

  Jessie flopped backward, her limbs thrown out in all directions, and sighed. “He is mighty handsome. An’ nice, too.” She sat up. “Is he your beau, Bek?”

  Rebekah’s heart lurched. Her throat went tight. She wished she could say yes. Her day with Devlin had been so pleasurable, so enlightening. Seeing how easily he talked to people—all people, even the ones who were standoffish or a little grumpy—increased her admiration for him. Watching him tease with Jessie, always kind and patient, gave Rebekah a peek at what kind of father he would be. She was supposed to introduce him to the folks nearby, but instead he’d introduced himself to her in a whole different way.

  She tied off the last of Trudy’s pin curls, gave the little girl a gentle push from the bed, and finally answered Jessie. “No. He’s not my beau.”

  “Think he might be someday?”

  Rebekah turned firm. With Jessie and with herself. “He’ll be going back to Lexington when he finishes the map of the cave. So it’d be a waste of time for me to think about being sparked by Dev—Mr. Bale.”

  Jessie sighed, her expression dreamy. “I liked him. A lot better’n any o’ the fellas ’round here.”

  Cissy shook her head. “Jessie, you ain’t old enough to be thinkin’ about fellas. Besides, you ain’t seen handsome ’til you seen—” She bolted off the bed and tossed the covers aside. “If we don’t all stop yammerin’, Daddy’s gonna come in here an’ threaten to wear us all out.”

  The younger girls muttered, but they climbed under their covers and nestled against their pillows. In unison, they recited their bedtime prayers, and then Della said, “Turn out the light, Bek.”

  She turned the key on the lamp, and shadows shrouded the room.

  Cissy wriggled onto her side facing Rebekah and tapped her shoulder. “Bek?”

  Caught up in remembering bits and pieces of her day, she didn’t want to be disturbed.

  “Rebekah?” Cissy still whispered, but her tone changed from calm to insistent.

  Rebekah sighed. “We’re supposed to go to sleep, Cissy.”

  “I know but…” Her warm breath touched Rebekah’s cheek, as light as the fingers resting on her shoulder. “Are you keepin’ some of the money you make at the cave?”

  “No. I’m giving it all to Daddy.” Only one more week and she’d get her first full pay envelope. Daddy’d already shown her the little sack where he intended to set aside every penny of her pay for their legacy.

  “Don’t you wanna keep any of it?”

  Not until the cemetery was done. And that would be a while. “No.”

  Cissy sighed. “You reckon Daddy’ll expect me to give over everything Mr. Temperance pays me tomorrow? I was kinda hopin’ to keep some. Use it for…myself.”

  Rebekah had been plenty surprised when Daddy gave permission for Cissy to work at the cave on a Sunday afternoon. Sunday was resting day—always had been. But maybe Daddy decided Cissy was getting old enough to make some decisions for herself. She hoped Cissy would make wise choices. She loved her sister, but she worried about her penchant toward foolhardiness.

  She whispered, “Ask Daddy in the morning. With my money coming in and the money from the mushrooms, he probably won’t mind you keeping some of it.”

  “How much do you think? Half? Maybe more?”

  “I don’t know, Cissy. Now stop talking and go to sleep before we bother the little girls.”

  Cissy huffed and rolled to her back. She lay quiet for so long Rebekah thought she’d drifted off to sleep. But then her soft voice tiptoed through the darkness again. “If I can’t keep enough money for a ticket, I’ll buy me a new dress. An’ that’ll be my ticket.”

  Rebekah jerked toward Cissy. “What’s that mean?”

  Her sister didn’t answer.

  Afraid of waking the others, Rebekah settled against the pillow and closed her eyes. But sleep evaded her for many hours.

  Cissy

  Before taking the burro from the stable, Cissy caught hold of his jaw and made him look at her. “All right, Beau, you listen up now. If you don’t wanna be turned into a pot o’ glue, you’re gonna need to be good today. Good as you smell.” Whoever’d bathed him used a rose-scented soap. The burro smelled good enough to go courting. “So you just stand real still by me, let them rich people climb up on your back long enough for Mr. Temperance to take their picture, an’ don’t make a single little fuss. We’ll both fare well.”

  Beau bobbed his head and tapped one shoe against the ground.

  Cissy laughed. “That’s a good boy.” She pulled the traces. “C’mon now. Let’s go.”

  Mr. Temperance smiled as she guided Beau to the spot on the lawn where he’d set up a screen painted to look like a barn front. Hay lay all over the ground, and a barrel and little length of picket fence sat in front of the screen. She wanted to ask why he didn’t take the pictures in front of the real barn, but she decided not to pester him too much about his business. He might change his mind about letting her stay.

  She positioned Beau in the center of the hay. The burro lowered his head to take a bite, but she gave the traces a little pull. “Huh-uh. None o’ that. I told you, you gotta stand still an’ be nice.”

  Mr. Temperance chuckled and came out from behind the three-legged stand holding up his cam
era. “I’m glad to see you’re taking control of our cantankerous creature.”

  Cissy patted the pocket in the seam of her skirt. “I brought two cut-up apples from our cellar to treat ’im when he does good.”

  “Very wise. Do you find his appearance pleasing?”

  She nodded. “He looks real good. Not a burr to be found, an’ he smells even better than me. Like a whole bouquet of roses. I just used lye soap in my bath.”

  The man laughed long and hard. Her hackles rose. She bit the insides of her cheeks to stay quiet. She’d told Beau to behave, so she needed to set a good example by not telling the photographer to stop poking fun at her, but it wasn’t easy.

  Still chortling, Mr. Temperance crossed to a wooden box beneath a nearby cottonwood and removed a straw hat. He plunked it on Cissy’s head, then stood back and gave her a head-to-toe look. He nodded. “Perfect. With your homespun dress, braids, and that hat, you could easily pass for a little stable hand.”

  Cissy seethed. He thought her nicest dress, the one Mama’d sewn from store-bought green muslin and touched up with hand-tatted lace, looked like something a person wore to work in a barn? She grabbed the brim of the hat, ready to throw it at him and storm off.

  He looked beyond her, and his face lit. He waved. “Come on over, folks! We’re ready for you.” He aimed a warning look at Cissy and lowered his voice. “Keep a grip on ol’ Beauregard now. I’ve got a dozen people signed up for photographs, and that means three dollars coming in.” He hurried behind the camera.

  She quickly added it in her head. If he made three dollars, then thirty-six cents would be hers. She leaned close and whispered in one of Beau’s pointed ears, “Be good, you hear me?”

  Just as she’d asked him to, Beau stood meekly next to Cissy and didn’t even bray when people climbed onto his back. To reward him, she sneaked him little pieces of apple in between Mr. Temperance’s use of the camera. As the hours wore on, she wondered how Beau managed to stay in one spot. Her feet hurt and she wanted to wiggle. But time and again she stood as still as a statue, holding on to Beau’s reins and smiling for the camera.

  At six o’clock Mr. Temperance folded up the camera’s stand and laid it gently in the grass. Then he crossed to her and tapped the top of her straw hat. “Well done, Miss Hardin. Old Beauregard was as good as gold today. You transformed an irascible beast into a purring pussycat.” He reached to scratch Beau’s ears, but the burro shied away and snapped at his hand. He leaped back and scowled at the animal. “Then again, maybe you haven’t.”

  Cissy slipped her arm over Beau’s neck. “Remember what you promised, Mr. Temperance. You said if he behaved today, you wouldn’t sell him to the glue factory.”

  “He isn’t going to do me an ounce of good if the only time he behaves is in your presence.”

  Cissy’s mind started whirling. Quick as a striking snake, she blurted, “Then I guess you’re gonna hafta to hire me on for good.”

  The man shook his head, his lips puckering up. “You’re still in school. You couldn’t be here every day even if I wanted to hire you.”

  “But school’s almost out for the summer. Just one more week an’ I could be at your beck an’ call.” Cissy had to convince him to take her on as his assistant. If she made thirty-six cents every day, she could put almost four dollars in her pocket every week. That was more than Bek made. By the end of summer, if she stuck around and if Daddy let her keep half her pay, the way he’d told her at breakfast, she’d have enough money for new clothes and tickets for the stagecoach and train, and enough left over to get her set up in her new town.

  She clasped her hands under her chin. “Please, Mr. Temperance? You said yourself Beau’s as good as gold when I’m around. Keep me around, an’ you can keep bringin’ in money.”

  “I could bring in just as much or more by selling him and purchasing a more reliable animal. One I can control without any help.”

  She didn’t think that was true. The glue factory didn’t pay top dollar, but a farmer would ask plenty for a gentle burro. Before Cissy could voice her argument, a man holding hands with a little girl about the same size as Little Nellie approached.

  Mr. Temperance turned to the guest with a smile. “Yes, sir? How may I help you?”

  “My little girl would like to pet the pony. May we…”

  A pony? Cissy snorted. These city folks didn’t know much.

  “Of course, sir.” Mr. Temperance held his hand toward Cissy.

  She swallowed a smile and placed the reins in his hand. “There you go. Bye now.”

  Beauregard curled his lips and brayed.

  The little girl grabbed her father around the leg.

  The photographer shoved the reins at Cissy.

  As soon as she took them, Beau bowed his head. Cissy flashed a saucy grin at the burro’s owner and then quirked her fingers at the child. “C’mon on over. He’s as nice as can be. Wanna pet his nose?” She ignored Mr. Temperance’s sharp gasp and crouched down. The child scurried over and stood close to Cissy. She curled her arm around the little girl’s waist. “His nose is so soft. Soft as your silk dress. He likes it when people rub his nose real gentle.”

  The child slowly raised her hand and placed her palm on Beau’s nose. He snuffled and the girl laughed. “He’s funny!”

  Cissy laughed, too, because Mr. Temperance’s face had gone all red. “Yep, he sure is. Funniest burro in the whole county, I reckon.”

  The little girl wriggled away from Cissy and ran to her father. “I wanna ride the horsy.”

  The man pulled his wallet from his jacket and opened it. “How much for my daughter to have a ride?”

  Cissy stood. “Beauregard isn’t a ridin’ pony, mister. But your little girl can have her picture taken sittin’ right on him. I’ll stay close an’ make sure nothin’ happens to her.” She looked expectantly at Mr. Temperance.

  He cleared his throat and reached for his camera. “Yes, of course, sir. If you’d like a souvenir photograph, I’ll get my camera set up.” He glowered at Cissy, but she only smiled and swung the little girl’s hand.

  “Thank you. I believe she would enjoy having a photograph to carry home with her. How much?”

  Cissy said, “Fifty cents.”

  The gentleman handed over a fifty-cent piece without even blinking.

  Cissy lifted the little girl onto Beau’s back and put her straw hat on the child’s head.

  She giggled and waved at her father. “Look at me, Daddy!”

  He beamed as brightly as if his daughter had just won the Kentucky Derby.

  Cissy gripped the reins with one hand and used her other hand to keep the child steady. “You gotta hold real still until you hear a pop, but don’t be scared. The camera won’t hurt you none.”

  “She’s had her portrait done many times,” the father said. “Haven’t you, Ruby?”

  The little girl nodded so hard she almost lost Cissy’s hat.

  Jealousy struck Cissy with force. Until today, she’d never had her picture made. Nobody in her family had.

  Mr. Temperance peeked out from behind the camera. “Well, let’s make this photograph the best one ever. Look right here, smile, and…” He pressed the bulb.

  A soft pop reached Cissy’s ears. She held her position for a few more seconds before catching the child under the arms and lifting her down. “There you go. Have your daddy come see Mr. Temperance tomorrow to pick up your picture.” She repeated what she’d heard the photographer tell the other customers all day.

  The gentleman frowned. “My family is departing the estate on the late stage this evening, so you’ll need to send the photograph through the post.”

  While Mr. Temperance and the gentleman exchanged information, Cissy retrieved her hat and put it in the crate. Then she carried the crate to the barn with Beau slogging along on her heels. She settled him in a stall and told one of the stable workers to give the little burro water, oats, and a brushing. The young man scurried into action, and Cissy couldn’t
help puffing up. Nobody’d ever followed her directions so fast before. She liked being important.

  When she returned to the false barn front, Mr. Temperance was standing next to his camera with his hands on his hips, scowling. “You think you’re pretty slick, don’t you?”

  Cissy feigned innocence.

  “Don’t give me that look. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Doubling my price and taking over with that spoiled little girl. You think I can’t do this job without you.”

  She grinned. “I didn’t do too bad, did I?”

  He smirked. “You did very well. But you already know that.” He sat on the barrel and pinched his chin. “As much as I hate to admit it, you and that ill-behaved burro make a good team.”

  Cissy’s pulse doubled as hope filled her. “So…you gonna let me keep workin’ for you?”

  He squinted at her for long seconds. Then he sighed. “Until school lets out for the season, it will be quiet here during the week, so there would be no sense in you coming around. But if your parents give their approval, I’d like you to come next weekend both Saturday and Sunday. And then, when the summer break begins, every day until school starts again.”

  Cissy let out a whoop of joy.

  He burst out laughing. “Now, you haven’t gained permission from your parents yet, so don’t start celebrating until then.”

  “Oh, they’ll let me. Just wait an’ see.”

  “If you’re half as convincing with them as you’ve been with me, I have no doubt.” He caught her hand and turned it palm up. “Here you go. Today’s pay.”

  She gazed down at the coin, astounded. He’d given her the fifty-cent piece. “But…But…”

  “Call it a bonus.”

  She slipped the coin into her shoe, wiggled her toes, and then grinned at the photographer.

  He winked. He slapped his knees and stood. “I have work to do—photographs to print. I’ll hope to see you next Saturday, Miss Cissy.”

  “No need to hope. You’ll see me for sure. Bye now!” She dashed around the barn, smiling so big her cheeks hurt, and plowed straight into somebody. She bounced backward and landed hard on her bottom. The air left her lungs, and her head spun.