The Horse and the Crow: A Miranda and Starlight Story

By Janet Muirhead Hill

In this, the seventh book of the Miranda and Starlight series about a Montana girl and her beloved black stallion, we meet Teddy, a ten-year-old Crow boy who wants to be like the last great chief of his tribe, Chief Plenty Coup. Plagued with a feeling of foreboding, fourteen-year-old Miranda Stevens wonders what could go wrong. For starters, her best friend, Laurie, is forced by an emergency involving her Ohio grandparents to give up her plans for a long weekend at the Crow Fair. When Miranda finally talks her parents into letting her go, in spite of the fact that Laurie's parents cannot take her, the feeling persists. In the care of Higgins, her old friend and horse trainer, she and her friend Christopher take Starlight, Shooting Star, and Queen to Crow Agency, Montana, where Miranda plans to ride each of them in races. The feeling of foreboding finally disappears as she is caught up in the festivities of the encampment, so she is completely unprepared for what follows.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raven Publishing of Montana
• Release date: May 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781937849283

Janet Muirhead Hill

Janet Muirhead Hill is the author of thirteen published novels for children ages 8-18. She co-authored curriculum units to adapt the novels for use in classrooms and home schools.Hill has presented many writing and publishing workshops across the state and in Colorado and Oregon. She is available to present workshops to fit one, two, three, four, or five days of instruction depending on the needs and time schedules of her sponsors and students. She has conducted many one-day school visits in Montana and Colorado, and has plans for longer residencies. She wrote and published comprehensive workbooks for use with her three, four, and five-day writing workshops. She is listed in the Artist's Registry of the Montana Arts Council.Her published children’s and young adult novels include the award-winning Miranda and Starlight series of eight (soon to be nine) books, Danny’s Dragon, a Story of Wartime Loss, winner of the Eric Hoffer Award, and a trilogy about twins, separated at a young age and searching for each other. Kyleah’s Tree, a finalist for both the High Plains Book Award and USA Book News, Best Book Award, is the the girl twin's story. It's companion novel, Kendall's Storm, silver medal winner of the Moonbeam Award, is the boy twin's story. Kendall and Kyleah, is the third book of the series completes their story. Her book, Call Me Captain has been renamed, The Body in the Freezer, and is a story about a 13-year-old rich kid who is both smart, and smart-mouthed searching for his place in the world—and finding when forced to "volunteer" in a homeless shelter.Hill calls the writing she does “true fiction,” because, she says, “My goal is to tell the truth about the human experience, its dilemmas, natural responses, and emotions through fictional characters; characters children relate to; characters who will help them better understand themselves, giving them comfort and encouragement in their own lives.”Ms. Hill spends much of her free time enjoying the outdoors, her horses, and most of all her family, which includes eight grandchildren and one great-granddaughter. She writes and publishes from her home office in rural Montana near the Madison River.

Book preview

The Horse and the Crow

A Miranda and Starlight Story

by

Janet Muirhead Hill

Copyright © 2015 Janet Muirhead Hill

Cover Art: Copyright © 2015 Pat Lehmkuhl

Published by: Raven Publishing, Inc.

PO Box 2866, Norris, Montana 59745 for Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Dedicated to the memory of my friend and mentor, Florence Ore, editor at Raven Publishing,Inc.

Rest in peace, dear Florence. Your influence lives on.

A note from the author

Writing Miranda is always easy. I can relate to her in so many ways. Writing Teddy has proven harder because I’ve never been an Apsaalooké (Crow) child. Not that I didn’t dream of it. When I was very young, I often imagined running away and joining a tribe of Indians that I thought was just over the mountain. But that was the white-man version of Indian—the version I saw in old western movies, the version enacted in old poems, skits, and songs, the version that got it wrong. I hope to got it right.

I have a high regard for every First Nation tribe. I’ve learned a lot about Crow culture, and although I know I have much more to learn, I have attempted to portray it with accuracy and respect. I’ve read books and researched online, hoping to avoid offense. If I have failed, I hope readers will understand that I meant no dishonor. Please forgive my ignorance. I will keep reading, discussing, and learning. Knowledge leads to understanding and understanding leads to love.

If you understand each other you will be kind to each other. Knowing a man well never leads to hate and almost always leads to love. — John Steinbeck

I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves. — Orson Scott Card, Ender’s Game

If we were alike, Danny said slowly, we wouldn’t need a bridge, would we? A bridge is for when things don’t meet up. It doesn’t change what’s on either side. It just connects them.

— Janet Muirhead Hill, Danny’s Dragon

Understanding builds bridges. For more understanding, check out the resources in the back of this book. Sometimes we offend others only because of our ignorance. Education is the remedy.

Chapter One

Miranda Stevens, age fourteen going on thirty, as her dad liked to say, had everything her heart could possibly desire. So why wasn’t she the happiest girl on earth?

I should be so excited about this weekend I’d be bouncing out of my boots, she said to the freckle-faced, green-eyed girl in the mirror. So what is this feeling of —I don’t know, dread? Fear? Like the world’s coming to an end and I’m the only one who knows it? Only I don’t know. It’s just this feeling that something is wrong.

Miranda, phone, Mom called, tapping on the bathroom door. It’s Laurie.

Miranda smiled. If anyone could cheer her up, her best friend could. But when she heard Laurie’s voice, she asked. You okay? Sounds like you have a bad cold.

No, Laurie’s voice caught in a sob. I’ve been crying for the last hour.

Why? What’s wrong? Miranda asked in alarm.

I can’t go. We’re going to Cincinnati.

What? Why?

My grandparents were in an accident. Papa’s dead. Laurie began sobbing. Miranda waited. Gram’s in bad shape. I just can’t believe I won’t see Papa again. What if they both die before we get there?

Oh, Laurie, I’m so sorry. Miranda wanted to hug her friend and cry along with her. She knew how she’d feel if anything happened to her grandparents. When are you leaving? Can I come see you before you go?

No, we’re leaving right now. We’re driving. It’s a long trip, but we couldn’t get plane tickets except standby. Dad would rather drive than wait.

Okay. I’ll be thinking about you. Please call me when you get there.

Yeah. I’ll call your cell. You’ll be in Crow Agency by then.

Take care! I love you, Miranda said, wishing she could do more to comfort her friend.

Will I be in Crow Agency? I don’t know how, she thought as she clicked off the phone. Laurie’s parents had planned to take her, Laurie, Chris, and four horses to the annual Crow Fair in Crow Agency, Montana, the capital of the Crow Indian Reservation. They’d planned to leave tomorrow. She thought of how hard she’d worked to get permission to go. What if a little thing like no transportation stopped her now?

Miranda had wanted to go to the Crow Fair ever since she first heard of it at a school assembly last April. Her school had hosted a talk, Native Americans in the Modern World by a Crow woman named Mary Little Foot. She was married to Lisa’s uncle Lyle, who didn’t have an ounce of Indian blood, but seemed to embrace the culture as his own. When Lisa, a classmate of Miranda’s, mentioned her Native American aunt, the social studies teacher was immediately interested and invited her to come speak to the class. Lisa didn’t seem nearly as excited about that as Miranda was. When Miranda asked her why, Lisa shrugged.

Well, Uncle Lyle isn’t exactly someone we brag about in our family.

Why?

Well, you know, no one thought he should marry someone like Mary.

What’s the matter with Mary?

Oh, nothing. It’s just, you know, being from a different culture and all.

You don’t like him because he married a Crow woman? Miranda was astonished.

Well, it wouldn’t be so bad if she’d at least taken his name. But, no. He wanted to take hers. He calls himself Lyle Little Foot, but I don’t think it’s legal.

From the time Miranda had come to Country View School at the end of fourth grade, she’d called the other girls in her class the Magnificent Four, not because she thought they were magnificent, but because they acted as if they thought they were. When Laurie, who was part African American, joined their class the MF wanted nothing to do with her. That was okay with Miranda, because Laurie had quickly become her best friend.

Miranda and Laurie had eventually made friends of sorts with the Magnificent Four, as they were thrown together for various class projects and outings, but they were never close. Stephanie, Kimberly, Lisa, and Tammy did everything together. Miranda and Laurie didn’t have much in common with them. Once again, Miranda understood why.

I’d be thrilled if she was my aunt, Miranda had said about Mary Little Foot.

I suppose you would, Lisa retorted, as if that were an insult. Then she hurried away to join Stephanie.

Mary had talked about the history of her people and the struggle to keep the young people interested in the traditions of the Crow people. The Crow Fair, held annually in Crow Agency, Montana, was a big factor in holding the interest of the Crow children. It was the biggest Native-American fair in the country and people from many tribes came to be part of it. People of all ages participated. Mary’s slide show of the various events showed the colorful traditional clothing worn by people of all ages, from tiny toddlers to old men and women. The parades and the dances looked exciting and fun, but it was the horse races that interested Miranda the most.

Could I enter my horse in the races? Miranda had asked Mary after the assembly.

Possibly. I’m sure I could find one of my neighbors who would be glad to ride it for you.

No, I mean could I ride my horses in the fair. I’m the only one who can ride them.

I’m afraid not, dear. And I’m sorry, but you have to be a tribal member in order to compete.

I’d have to be Crow?

No, not since they changed the rules back in the 50s or 60s. It used to be that only Crows were allowed. Now, they let members of other tribes participate, too.

When Miranda had gone home that afternoon, complained to her parents that she wished she’d been born Native American.

Why? her mom had asked.

Because they are beautiful people, Miranda said, and so I could race my horses at the Crow Fair.

I guess I never told you that you are part Cherokee, Dad said.

What? I am?

It just never came up. My great-grandmother was a full-blood Cherokee. But her husband was white, so my grandmother was only half-blood. She married a white man, making my father one-fourth blood and me just one-eighth. That makes you one-sixteenth Cherokee, enough to get tribal membership, if you wanted it. It never occurred to me that you would. I never got around to getting membership myself. My father died when I was ten, and mom and I went to live with her Norwegian parents in Iowa. I grew up there, and no one ever suggested that I should get tribal membership.

Did you ever go visit your grandmother? The Indian one?

No. I knew that she lived in North Carolina with that branch of the Cherokees, but my mom was not a very healthy person. We never traveled.

Oh, I wish I could have known her—my great grandmother, I mean. Is she still alive?

I don’t think so. She’d be very old by now. Dad looked a little sad. I used to get a present in the mail on my birthday when I was little, but they stopped coming when I was twelve or thirteen. And, as I’m sure you know, my mother died several years ago, and her parents were gone before that.

How sad! Miranda felt as if a huge part of her life was swept away as soon as she knew about it. If only she could have been a part of that side of her family! But, she reminded herself, the good news was that she was part Native American. Can we start now? Start getting us registered, so I can enter the races and stuff?

Hey, no one has said you could go, no matter what the Crow Fair officials say, Mom said.

I know. You and Dad still have to talk about it. But think what an opportunity it is for me to learn about my heritage. Because, even if I don’t get to go, I want to be able to say that I’m Cherokee and start learning more about what that means.

Mom had agreed that it was a good idea to establish her tribal membership if she could. We should do that for Kaden, too. Kaden was Miranda’s youngest brother, the only kid in the family besides herself who wasn’t adopted. I think it’s important to know one’s genealogy, so go ahead. But, her mother had warned, don’t think that means you are going to the fair.

The first step had been to prove her father’s lineage, which turned out to be far easier than Miranda had expected. With Dad busy with his work and taking care of the ranch, he left it up to Miranda to do the research and file the needed paperwork. Miranda was busy, too, with school, her chores, and her horses. She made sure she spent at least a little time each day working with Shooting Star, her two-year-old filly, to be sure she was ready for the fair. When she finally researched the Eastern Band of Cherokee rolls, she learned that not only her great-great grandmother and her father’s grandmother and his father, but even Dad were registered members of the tribe.

Dad was surprised to learn this. He seemed ashamed that he hadn’t kept in touch with his father’s relatives. My grandma must have really cared about me, even though I never knew her.

Miranda filled out the application for her own membership, had her father sign it, and sent it in. When she received a letter back from them, she opened it eagerly. To her dismay, it was not her certificate of membership, but a letter saying she’d have to wait until she was eighteen to reapply. At this time, we are only extending memberships to infants and to teenagers when they turn eighteen.

Miranda, once she got over the bitter disappointment that she felt initially, convinced herself that it didn’t matter. All she had to do was to take her father’s tribal membership card, which had already come in the mail, and her birth certificate, and it would prove that she was one-sixteenth Cherokee. The requirements for membership, besides what to her was a silly age restriction, was that she was at least one-sixteenth Cherokee blood and that a direct ancestor was listed on the 1924 Baker Roll, records that dated back to 1835 and listed all the Eastern Cherokee within the limits of North Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia, and Alabama. At least two of hers were on that list.

Miranda had kept in touch with Mary Little Foot ever since she’d met her at the school assembly. Mary was very helpful, and they’d become friends. Mary even invited Miranda and Laurie to camp with them at the fair. It was one thing that helped persuade Mom to let them go. She’d be with the Little Foots and Laurie’s parents, Preston and Sheree Langley.

But now, the Langleys wouldn’t be there. Not only was Miranda full of sadness and concern for her best friend, but she was very worried about what this news would do to her plans to go to the fair.

Well, I’m not going to let it stop me! she said to no one.

Chapter Two

She punched in the Bergman’s phone number and asked to speak to Chris, her second best friend. At least that’s what she always told herself, though it was pretty much a toss up between him and Laurie.

Christopher Bergman had started out to be her worst enemy when she was in fourth and fifth grades, but ended up as a friend and ally—until he kissed her a few months ago. She kind of wished the kiss had never happened because the feelings it evoked confused her. Even though the memory of it thrilled her, she had seen too many kids fall in love and then break up and never speak to each other again. She valued Chris’s friendship too much to risk losing it, so she did her best to maintain the more comfortable camaraderie they’d had before the kiss had sent an unfamiliar shock wave through her.

He’s on his way to your house, Miranda. Mrs. Bergman said, He got his license today.

Oh, good, I’ll…

Before she could finish, Mrs. Bergman interrupted. But he can’t take you for a ride. His dad and I told him he’s not allowed to drive with minors in the car unless there is an adult in the passenger seat.

Okay, I think he’s here. Bye. Miranda clicked off the phone and ran outside.

Hey, Miranda. I’m legal now. Wanna go for a ride?

Yes, but not in your truck. I just talked to your mom and she warned me…

What? She called? She apparently doesn’t trust me, does she? Chris sounded indignant, and Miranda laughed.

And obviously for good reason, huh?

I was going to stay on the back roads, Chris said, shrugging.

Well, I have a better idea. Actually, I called your house, not vice versa.

Why?

To see if you could come over. I have terrible news. We need to talk.

What news? Talk about what?

Not here. Let’s saddle up and ride over to see Higgins. We can talk on the way.

All right, but Queen might be in season…

Chris and Miranda had learned the hard way that it was not a good idea to take Chris’s mare and Miranda’s stallion, Starlight, out together when Queen was in her estrous cycle. Shooting Star was the only good result of that disastrous day.

It’s okay, I’m riding Star.

Shooting Star? Chris sounded wary.

Of course, unless you want to ride her.

No way! She’s still a bit too frisky for my taste. You’ll make her behave, right?

Sure. Don’t I always?

No, Chris began, but Miranda was running toward the house, calling over her shoulder, I’m getting some cookies to take to Higgins. Meet you at the barn.

As they rode through the river pastures between her house and the old Caruthers’ place where Higgins lived, Miranda told Chris all about Laurie’s sad news. Poor Laurie. Her heart is broken, and there is nothing I can do about it. After a pause, she added, Now we don’t have a way to get to the Crow Fair.

Bummer! That’s terrible about Laurie, Chris said. Too bad about the fair, too. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to racing Starlight again.

Ever since I found out that I’m part Cherokee, I’ve done everything to get permission to go. I never gave up getting the paperwork so I could get in. Then convincing Mom to let me enter was the hardest part. She finally came around when the Langleys were so excited about going. But I’m not giving up now.

Of course not, Chris grinned at her.

How about your folks. Would they reconsider?

No way. Dad has to run the store because his help is on vacation, and Mom has a party Saturday.

As president of the garden club, a member of the bridge club, and a cosmetic consultant, Mrs. Bergman was always having a party—or so it seemed to Miranda.

Talk your parents into it, Chris said, or your grandparents,

I’ve tried, Chris. Gram and Grandpa are in Kalispell, helping with my new baby cousin, and Mom has been against the idea from the beginning. If I mention this to her, she won’t let me go.

Why, exactly, doesn’t she want you to go?

It’s the racing part she objects to. She has the silly idea that I’m going to get hurt or killed somehow.

Geez, I wonder why? Chris grinned at his sarcasm. Miranda chose to ignore it.

I think she’s kind of mad at Dad for talking her into letting me go. If it weren’t for him and the Langleys saying it would be a good cultural experience, I wouldn’t have a chance.

Chris didn’t seem as disappointed as she was, so she added, Aren’t you excited about going? There’ll be so much to see, including your mare winning a race.

"I’m not sure how you talked me into letting you ride Queen in one of the races. You don’t know if she’ll win. Don’t you think Indians