100% Pure Cowboy by Cathleen Galitz

with the breaking of camp to give that despicable man another thought—for at least another sixty seconds.
    She was amazed at the change that a few days had wrought in her troop. Their deluge of daily whining and complaining was dwindling into a few indiscriminate, mild showers. They seemed to have taken to heart their wagon master’s challenge to “cowboy up” and prove themselves. Stripped for the first time in their young lives of the luxuries that money could buy, they were given the rare opportunity to discover what they were really made of. And to their own surprise, it was more than just frippery.
    Danielle noticed Lynn and Mollie swapping Seventeen and Western Horseman magazines. Their burgeoning friendship pleased her. For far too long her daughter had been surrounded by peers who judged one another by their economic status, whose acceptance into their clique was based upon how it would affect their own popularity. That kind of friendship was as foreign to Mollie as elephants to the Great Plains of Wyoming. Indeed she was the most appealing child Danielle had been around for quite some time. From the instant she had first smiled into those mischievous eyes, such perfect replicas of her father’s, Danielle had found herself enslaved by the little imp. She wondered what it would take to bribe Cody into letting Mollie spend some time with them in Denver.
    It really was a shame that the two girls would be parted so soon. They had a lot to offer one another. Mollie’s innate sweetness and love of the land was rubbing off on Lynn who, in turn, was eager to coach her country friend in the finer points of becoming hip.
    â€œCan you believe Mollie’s never even heard of Iggy Pop?”
    â€œCan you believe Lynn’s never ridden a horse?” they asked their parents respectively.
    Both Cody and Danielle shook their heads in mock disbelief.
    Danielle was glad that Cody gave the girls several short breaks during the day to rest. Just how easy it would be to fall prey to heat exhaustion among other numerous perils of the trail was clearly illuminated in the diary that Danielle had received the first day of the expedition.
    What had started out as merely another chore—reading about the lives of actual pioneers who had traveled the Oregon Trail—soon became something to which Danielle looked forward. Stolen moments alone with Matty O’Shaw, the author of the diary that she carried in the pockets of her full gingham skirt were becoming a bright spot in her day. Simple and to the point, Matty’s words poignantly described both the perils and the beauty of the Old West. During rest periods, Danielle slipped into the shade of the wagon, opened the diary, and allowed herself to be drawn into the past.

    June 12, 1846
    Saw my first Indian today. Rather than the frightening savages about which we have been warned, the fellow looked more forlorn than bloodthirsty. Watching the progression of wagons miles long dissecting these lonely plains, it surely must have seemed to him that all mankind has turned his face westward. The resigned expression that he wore bespoke the realization that his native land will not long remain untouched by the white man’s hand.
    Among us there is much grumbling about the heat and the never-ending wind which assails us with great clouds of dirt for days on end. For my part, I try to keep my eyes on the wildflowers of the prairie which are unmindful of the poor quality of soil in which they flourish.
    Every day more fall victim to the cholera that claimed my own dear husband. I miss him terribly. It is much harder than I had imagined to fulfill my promise to John. Today Mr. Bennet, our wagon master, informed me that my family will be left at the next settlement. He has been approached about the propriety of a widow with three small children traveling in the company of so many unattached men. I bade him not to worry and assured him that as I will be showing