Ширли Мерфи - The Sand Ponies

“Well,” says Sarah Paddyfoot. “Yes, I see. It must be a proper married couple to adopt a child, not just a single man, I see.”

“We can’t let them be sent back, Sarah,” Mary says. “Maybe we could lie about another uncle! And if we could fix it, then we must get Mr. Elber to sell them the horses. Do you think he will?”

“Kids have no money,” says Sarah. “Maybe they could work it out, but …”

“Might do that,” says a voice, and around the corner of the barn comes Dan Elber. “Way I look at it,” he says, sitting down and glancing at the coffee pot-Sarah jumps up to pour, spilling Abbey to the ground, where she complains loudly and goes to Mary for comfort—“way I look at it,” he continues, sipping appreciatively, “been in the mountains long enough.

Gets cold up there. Going to look around here for a little land, raise me some colts. Guess someone else has a prior claim to my best mare, hut maybe we can work out a deal. Need some help, when I find a place.

“Way I see it, a boy can work for a horse he wants. So can a girl. Might even get me a wife one of these days, adopt those two kids.”

“No need,” says Roland, joining them from nowhere. “No need at all to do that. Taken quite a shine to those two—thinking just this morning of adopting them myself.”

“You got a wife?” asks Dan. “Takes a wife, you know. Courts won’t …”

“Thinking just this morning,” says Roland, “of getting me a wife. Got just the one in mind; make a good mother for those two. Feed ‘em lily bulbs.”

Sarah’s face is getting very pink. Mary McCamley turns away to hide her smile.

Sarah scurries toward the house, nearly running into Mr. Tillman and J.L., coming around the corner followed by the sheriff.

“Where is Tom?” says Jack Tillman. “Where’s he gotten to?”

“Down the beach,” says Mary, trying to look serious. “Down the beach with John.”

The twins go running off, shouting.

Soon Tom is back, with John, twins dragging them.

“Sit down,” says Mr. Tillman. “Get your breath. Remember the deserted ranch, Tom? Remember Charley?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, it was Charley in that truck last night. Got him in the jailhouse. Got his friends, too. And some of the packages they were dividing up.”

“What were they?”

“Money.”

Tom looks perplexed. “Stolen money?”

“Counterfeit. You’ve earned yourself a reward, Son. Tell him, Roland.”

“Well, that’s about it,” says Roland, settling himself at the table. “Been looking all over the country for that bunch. Thought a tramp might be able to move around without causing any concern. But by the time I found the place and had some evidence, you had reported it, Tom, and the sheriff had talked to my office and already had a man watching the Black Turtle when I got to town to see him. Reward’s yours, Son. Talked to my boss two days ago. Drew a draft right away.” He leans over and hands Tom an envelope. “Guess you could say the Sand Ponies caught Charley. One of them did, poor thing.”

Tom looks at the check, then hands it back. “I can’t take a reward. I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did. You knew something was wrong. Didn’t know what, but saw to it the sheriff knew, too. It’s yours, Tom. You’re to keep it.”

“Well I, well I don’t know what to say. It doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s right, all right,” says Mr. Tillman. “You can settle up with Mr. Elber if you like and bring Kippy on down here. We’ll fix a shed for him, and Tolly, when the colts are weaned, or before, maybe. You can decide about Ginger and Rex. Got a good home with Mr. Elber, if they’ll stay put!”

“And now,” says Roland, getting up, “if you’ll excuse me… .”

“Just a minute, there,” Dan says. Both men head for the kitchen, but Sarah Paddyfoot has slipped out the back door and is going across the dunes.

J.L., seeing what is happening, leap to follow the men, but are jerked back suddenly by their father and sent, with Bo, to gather some berries for supper. The sheriff rises. “Must be getting on,” he mutters. “Work to do, ticker tape to check. You boys give me a hand—think I’ve got a bad tire, may have to pump it a bit.”

Later, in the loft, Tom finds J.L., berry stained, leaning over the window sill, arms around each other, giggling. “What’s going on?” he asks, coming up behind them.

“Shhh,” says Jana, quiet for once. “Look!” Tom leans over the sill, then turns around and marches the twins away from the window. “Bad as the crow, for spying!” he tells them.

“What’s this?” asks John, coming up the stairs.

The twins grab him, dancing around him. “They’re arguing,” says Lisa. “Arguing over Sarah Paddyfoot!”

And sure enough, in the yard below, by the willow tree, Roland and Dan Elber stand toe to toe, speaking very harshly.

John grabs the twins, pulling them away. “Go look out the back window!” he says, dragging them along the loft, laughing.

But Tom is there before them, waving a hand to hush them. The twins swarm around him, peering out; then Jana gasps, giggles, and runs down the stairs, shouting loudly, “Papa’s kissing Teacher!” And this is the end of privacy for everyone.

“Looks like somebody’s going to adopt you,” says John. “Only thing I can’t figure out is, Who? Sarah Paddyfoot’s holding out against both, but I bet Roland wins; then there’s only to decide whether it will be Dad and Miss McCamley, or … well, it’s all too complicated for me. Just think, Lisa, real live teacher all your own!” He picks her up and twirls her around. Tom is staring at him.

Suddenly John is quiet, looking at Tom. “You’re thinking I should be, well …”

“Yes, I think I would. I don’t know …”

“It’s been a long time, Tom. And Mamma was sick a long time. I used to go to the hospital to see her every day. We talked a lot, then. She used to tell me how she would feel, knowing Dad might spend the rest of his life alone. It was hard to understand. I thought she was kind of, well, funny because she was sick. But I’ve thought about it, since. I think now I see what she meant.”

The crow is screaming in the front yard, and Karen has ridden up and is looking with amazement at the scene before her. Kippy, reins loose, is sniffing noses with Bo, and at the table two quiet men sit, while Sarah Paddyfoot, standing before them, gives them a tirade that outmatches the crow’s. Mr. Tillman and Mary stand in the doorway, laughing, and the twins have piled out beside them, wide-eyed.

“And that is all I have to say!” says Sarah Paddyfoot, seeing her audience and turning away, angry, to march into the kitchen.

“What did she say?” asks John, coming out with Tom.

“She said,” says Mr. Tillman, “that if anyone is going to marry her, they’ll have to court her first, with all the trimmings! That’s what she said!” He pauses and looks down at Mary. “And what about you, Mary McCamley, does that go for you, too?”

“Not me,” says Mary McCamley, smiling. “Doesn’t take me long to make up my mind! That right, Abbey?”

Abbey looks at her and blinks.

A breeze stirs the willow branches, and from the roof the crow scolds. A lone puff of cloud casts its shadow on the shore where sandpipers run, and far out on the waves a seal plays. Kippy shakes his head and stamps his foot. The sun shines brightly down on the barn and the willow tree.

Late that night, as Karen and Tom walk on the beach, he takes her hand and smiles at her. “I guess wishes really do come true sometimes.”

Karen looks at him. “Did you wish to be adopted, too?”

“Of course. But it’s not the kind of wish you tell, you know.”