Grace and the Guiltless

Chapter 1

Lifting her calico skirt, Grace Milton raced toward her brother as her palomino, Bullet, reared and whinnied, dancing in a circle and dragging Daniel by the lead rope. Her heartbeat quickened with a spark of panic when Daniel flew into the air. He thudded to the ground and bumped along beside the bucking horse, raising a cloud of dust.  

"Let go of the rope," Grace yelled. "Roll to your right." 

Daniel dropped and curled into a tight ball. Grace emitted a shrill whistle, and Bullet wheeled, his back hooves narrowly missing her brother. The horse charged straight for Grace, but he skidded to halt in front of her, his flanks heaving.  

She grabbed the swaying rope. "It's okay, boy." She reached out slowly, making sure Bullet's gaze followed her hand before she patted his neck. "Calm down." 

"Everything all right out there?" Pa shouted from inside the barn. The whinnying and crashing in there sounded as if he was having his own problems with the mustangs. 

"We're fine, Pa," Grace answered. "Uh, you need help settling those horses?" 

Daniel flashed her a grateful glance. Pa had strict rules about an eleven-year-old going near the unbroken horses, and Daniel had disobeyed all of them. But every Milton was as stubborn as the horses they tamed, though none of them would admit it. 

"No, you two stay out there." Pa sounded edgy.  

Wincing, Daniel struggled to his feet and limped toward her. 

"You all right?" Grace asked. 

Daniel hung his head. "I'll be fine," he mumbled. 

"Everyone falls off a horse at one time or another," she said. "Even Pa can't get near Bullet." 

"You can." Daniel kicked at the dirt. "You gentle almost every horse we get." 

Grace couldn't explain her bond with the wild horses. Instinct guided her. She just knew when to back away, when to step closer...  

Her brother's Stetson lay in the dirt near the corral fence, and she strode over, picked it up, and dusted it off. She ruffled Daniel's hair, then clapped his hat on his head. "I'm just glad you're alive. You could have been trampled." 

Daniel blew on his rope-burned palms. "Yeah. Lucky you were around."  

He gave Bullet a wide berth while Grace unhooked the lead rope and dangled it over the fence. She patted the palomino on his rump, and Bullet took off across the paddock. 

The noise inside the stable quieted, and a few minutes later Pa emerged, wiping sweat from his brow. "Those mustangs will be tough to break. But you did a great job with them today, Grace. You have a real gift with these horses." 

"Wish I did." Daniel's voice was wistful. 

"Don't worry, you'll figure it out," Grace said. "I couldn't do it when I was your age." Of course, they'd still lived on the East Coast then, but Daniel didn't need to know that. 

When her family first arrived in Arizona to homestead, Grace had never expected to fall in love with this red-clay, rocky desert dotted with tall columns of saguaro and spiny branches of ocotillo. But now she belonged in the West. 

Behind Pa, the sun dipped low on the horizon, tipping the Dragoon Mountains with orange fire and streaking the scrubby tufts of grass with gold. No dust clouds appeared on the road that stretched between their ranch and the distant town of Tombstone. Riders churned up puffs of grit when they made that half-day trip to the ranch, and her family didn't get many friendly visitors.