on smooth work and jostled them all. She startled placid animals and infuriated busy men...who loved her.
It was Cliff who took the reins of the days and the rest could just watch and be critical.
That critical didn’t last long. Cliff offered for any of them to take the budding female on—to direct and control her. Nobody volunteered.
Clashes between Chancy and Cliff happened. And some arguments. Those were courteous, so far.
Chancy did ride a horse. Not the calm one Cliff allotted to her. No. She sneaked onto Cliff’s horse. There were sharp whistles so that the whole, entire crew all watched what Cliff would do about that.
When he saw what she’d done, he got on her horse and whistled at his, who was under her and riding away like the wind.
The whistle was to stop... and his horse did stop. The horse almost had to rear, clear up, to keep her on his back. With his rider stable, the horse had turned and looked at Cliff with some interest.
Of course, Chancy was flicking the ends of the reins against the horse and urging his sides with her naked boot heels to get him to go again. She was earnest and determined—but even her rein strokes were kind. She was simply indicating seriously that she wanted the horse to do as she chose.
That was logical.
Cliff pulled her horse up alongside her and the prancing Jasper. Cliff took the reins from her hands as he got off her horse.
He told her through his teeth, “They are both brown coated. But if you look closely, you’ll be able to tell which is Jasper and which is your own horse.”
Then he put his arm around the lower part of her torso and lifted her effortlessly from his horse. He had the audacity of lifting her then onto her own horse, as if she’d made a mistake.
She glanced around, but no one else was anywhere around that she could see. So she looked again at Cliff. She tilted her sober-faced head, waiting for an apology from Cliff.
He gave none.
Cliff swung up on his own horse and just trotted it away, leaving her there with her own horse. She was owner of the land. He didn’t give a damn.
He had told Chancy that his horse was not trained as an exercise horse. He was a working horse. He obeyed enough. He didn’t need any stranger getting up on him and demanding other rules. He was not a pet.
The horse, Jasper, was a partner. He was willing to carry a saddle and a man...if there was a reason. But he did not take to just roaming without some goal.
Cliff had learned to call the horse’s name of Jasper. If Jasper hadn’t anything to control or find, he’d get bored and just stop. Or he’d go looking for something interesting.
The horse’s curiosity sometimes led to a real wrangle of wills. He’d take the bit in his teeth and just...go!
Actually, Jasper was a whole lot like the male version of the budding female. Like Chancy. But Chancy was more kind.
There were increasing times that Cliff wondered how had her daddy known to name her thataway, right away, when she was born?
From what Cliff had heard, her parents hadn’t been ordinary. And maybe not even—normal. They’d been a little weird. Their attachment had been too intense. But from what Cliff had heard, they’d understood limits.
How come their daughter had turned out as curious as she was? As determined and independent? And yet. And yet, with all that, she kept her courtesy and interest in others.
But she was a handful.
Chancy was never flippant or snotty. She was earnest and curious, and she continued to consider herself equal to any adult male. Any man knows no female is equal to a male at any time. Not only females’ physical strengths, but their minds don’t work the same as a man’s.
Men are generally just tolerant and ready to salvage whatever the female louses up. That is done silently by the male with great endurance that is allowed to show—somewhat.
Cliff considered what he’d heard of the parents and knew they had been indulgent. The crew even yet just shook their heads over Chancy how many times?
But it was obvious to Cliff that her parents had never lifted a finger or a voice to Chancy. They’d just observed her with interest...and rescued her if necessary.
In exasperation, the crew told Cliff that the rescue part was just about always. Practically from birth, she had defied the limits.
Interestingly, none of her curiosity was mean or flippant She just thought she could do anything a male could do. She kept on trying. She was an irritating woman.
Probably the main thing about the changes was that now Cliff was in charge. It was to him that questions came. It was his directions they sought. Before his arrival, they had discussed their problems when they were in Chancy’s presence. They hadn’t really inquired if she agreed, but she had known what was being done.
With Cliff in charge, things had changed. It was odd for Chancy not to know what all was happening.
Two
Around the main house, the trees had been selectively removed. The trees had been cut down and the wood used in the fireplaces when the temperature plummeted clear down to fifty degrees. Once it had gone down further and there had been ice!
There was air-conditioning. It was unTEXAN to use it. When the temperature got up to eighty degrees, it was turned on and left there as the outside temperature went on up over a hundred. They were all spoiled rotten. Especially the cats and dogs.
The high temperatures were seldom miserable because the heat was dry and, if you didn’t run around and do a whole lot of things, you didn’t even sweat. Men tend to run around after things and to see things and heaven only knows what all distracts them. Well, what all else.
At the main house, there was Tolly, who was the cook. He did the shopping and organizing and made up the menus. He’d been doing that as long as Chancy remembered.
The meals were always superb. He would listen if something else was wanted.
In that first week, Cliff said, “This pie is great. How about an apricot pie?”
And it was on the table the next day. There was exactly enough of the fruit. The crust was crisp. It was perfect. But then all of Tolly’s foods were done just right.
The people who cared for the crew ate at the house, together, as a family. All were at the round table on the enclosed side porch including Tolly, the cook, and Jim, who did the yard and kept the fruit trees and the flowers just right. And there was Tom, who did the barn and took care of the horses and of course the chickens.
The chickens were allowed their freedom, and they lay eggs just about anywhere. Egg hunting was a challenge and entertained Tom in just finding the nests.
When Cliff questioned the freedom of the chickens, they all replied in a babble that with the chickens ruling their own lives, the eggs were better.
That
