Chapter 6
After the others ride out to tend to the cattle, I’m left with a stable empty of horses but full of s**t. I spend an hour hauling out the soiled hay, then wash down the stalls as best I can. The work is dirty and tedious, but it isn’t hard, and the repetitive motions leave my mind free to drift. I don’t need to concentrate to clean.
The fight this morning doesn’t bother me, nor does my verbal sparring with Charlie earlier. Ever since I first cut my hair short and pulled on a pair of dungarees, I’ve managed to pass myself off as a man without difficulty. My childhood back east seems like it belonged to someone else—a sister, perhaps, or a girl I once knew. Not me.
I was one of four daughters, second eldest born to a dentist in Philadelphia. My mother died during childbirth when
