Echo Valley

By Joan Sisson

Spending two weeks at a dude ranch is a dream-come-true for Karen, 17. She delights being at Credenda Ranch, and the reader will enjoy all the details of her stay. What makes the story intriguing is the legend that surrounds this ranch, the Tale of Echo Valley. Every evening the first week, old Hank unfolds a little more of the legend and its poem. It is about a girl and a horse:

Have you ever seen Echo Valley, in the best of its glory? Have you ever listened to its tale, of a great love story?

Karens first summer on her own, she learns a great deal about life and herself. She begins to live the legend and similar things happen: she, too, saves a horse, and she, too, finds romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 7, 2007
• ISBN: 9781465327079

Joan Sisson

Growing up in California, with a father working in agriculture and the national parks, Joan lived “under the redwoods” in her early years. During school years in Kansas, she enjoyed riding her mare along country roads and hearing meadowlarks sing. Joan has contributed articles to Western Horseman and Country magazines, is a former parent-helper of the 4-H Horse program and was a docent at Sunol Regional Wilderness in California. She is the author of horse books for teens, Echo Valley and Dan; books for young children, Marigold and One Little Heifer. A book of short stories, Smiles, is due out in 2008. The author believes, teach beauty and brotherhood rather than horror and destruction. Joan and her husband, Dave, had two children, Mark and Rebecca. (Becky illustrated Green Eyes.) They now live in Montana near Becky’s ranch; Mark died in 2003.

Book preview

Echo Valley

Written and illustrated

by

Joan Sisson

Copyright © 2007 by Joan Sisson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission

in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

Second printing 2008

First printing copyright 1984

Carlton Press, New York, NY

ISBN O-8062-2107-0

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

41254

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

DEDICATION

In Memory of Joe

Frontispiece

image1.jpg

Ranger

Chapter 1

A dude ranch! In all her seventeen years (it seemed so long!) Karen had never been to a dude ranch, and now that she was nearly there it was a dream come true. Not only that, she was also on her own. Her parents’ vacation plans didn’t interest her this year, and Tim, her younger brother, was at camp.

Credenda Ranch; the name intrigued her. It was what had caught her eye when she was reading the ads, trying to choose. Next she had quickly noticed the verse in italics:

"Have you ever seen Echo Valley, in the best of its glory?

Have you ever listened to its tale, of a great love story?

The ad went on to describe the ranch, set in the beautiful Rocky Mountains. Everything about it sounded to Karen’s liking, so she read no more ads and promptly sent for the brochure. The second verse was contained in the information she received:

"It is a different kind of love, of a lad and lass, true indeed:

But the lass was a young girl, and the lad a mustang steed.

Shades of the Old West! Karen was hooked! She lost no time in mailing her deposit and reservation. And now here she was, on the ranch bus that met her—and the other guests—at the airport, winding thru the Rockies they’d described. Credenda Ranch was not far ahead.

The brochure had given her a brief history of the ranch. It had been owned by the same family line for over a hundred years now. At one time it had been a working ranch, raising great herds of cattle and some hay. Now it had been converted to a dude ranch so that many others could know the pleasure and beauty of the area. The ranch kept about two-hundred head of cattle so the visitors could see how it was in the Old West and to keep the ranch hands sharp in their skills. (The men who worked on the ranch, Karen was to learn, were called hands.)

The bus continued on, taking them deeper into the mountains. The road was mostly a series of wide curves, climbing, dropping some, then climbing some more. At times Karen felt she could almost touch some of the trees if she reached out of the window. Here the air was still refreshingly cool. The smell of pine was predominant but there were occasional whiffs from other plants: wildflowers, herbs, shrubs and weeds. A deep ravine presented a breathtaking view.

With each curve in the road, and each crest they topped, Karen hoped for sight of the ranch. She knew the bus ride took a couple of hours, but, oh, it was hard to be patient! She tried to enjoy the view but her eyes kept turning to the road ahead. Finally the bus turned off the main road and went under a tall gate of rustic, hand-hewn timbers. The crosspiece above read simply, Credenda Ranch.

The road led across a wide meadow, still touched with green. To the left it met the quaking aspens and evergreens where the land rose abruptly toward the mountain peak. On the right the meadow blended more gently with the trees and the rise of land. It was to the right the road led eventually, when the ranch buildings came in sight.

And what a sight it is! Karen thought. The ranch headquarters were huge, sprawling out all over. There sat the big, two-and-a-half-story main house, a combination of stone and wood, with a big front porch and a smaller screened-in porch. Its roof peaked sharply to shed the weight of winter snows. The big porch was open on the side, with a few wide steps there, since the house faced the lawn and not the driveway. Could the house really be over a hundred years old? Karen was anxious to see its dining hall and great stone fireplace.

There were two long, low buildings beyond made of logs that housed the guests, and a third building to the other side that was a bunkhouse for the hands. There were barns, a garage, equipment buildings, corrals and fences. And horses! Look at the horses! There must be a hundred of them, in various pastures and corrals, she marveled.

In the center of all this a large area had been left open for the vehicles to stop and turn around. The air brakes hissed and the bus came to a stop at the side of the main house. As she carried her bag, Karen tried to look everywhere at once, and almost walked into another guest, so she decided to stand still and take a good look around her. Some distance behind the main house, beyond a rise of ground and closer to the trees, Karen saw a cleared area, with a dark spot in the center, rimmed with stones. For night campfires! How wonderful! she thought.

There were hitching racks edging the parking area, near the corral fences. They were made from smaller logs and looked well-used, both chewed and worn smooth in various places. There were trees scattered about the area, both quakies and evergreens. There were patches of grass with deciduous trees, and lawn chairs on these patches. The big porch had a row of chairs, even a porch swing!—and the vast lawn stretching out in front of the porch had a sprinkling of more chairs.

Karen remembered the brochure: . . . so that many others could know the pleasure and beauty . . . . And comfort, too; they really meant it.

She noticed someone sitting near the steps, his chair tipped back against the trunk of a big shade tree. He was dressed in the expected attire, blue jeans and shirt, boots and kerchief. His hat was in his hands. His hair was white. He was smiling and speaking to the guests