Paint the Wind by Pam Muñoz Ryan Page B

anywhere. Starting now, you’ll do just about everything together. You will eat facing each other. You will do any number of chores I can dream up, together. Payton, you will be Maya’s groom at her lesson, and Maya, you will be Payton’s groom at his. And if either of you fails to cooperate or if one impolite word passes between you, you’ll do nothing else but shovel manure … together.”
    Maya nodded. “Don’t worry, Aunt Vi. I’m actually not going to speak to him ever again.”
    â€œMe neither,” added Payton.
    â€œSuit yourselves,” said Aunt Vi. “But you’re going to get tired of hearing my voice.”
    Maya and Payton peeled carrots and potatoes, washed dishes, raked the clearing, soaped bridles and saddles,swept out the tents, and toted buckets of water from the river to the campsite, side by side. By the afternoon of the sixth day, not an utterance had passed between them and their mutual stubbornness seemed indestructible.
    As Maya helped Payton stack wood near the campfire, she caught Aunt Vi watching them. Maya raised her chin in the air and walked back toward the woodpile. Payton walked next to her, staring at the ground. Later, in the corral before Maya’s lesson, Payton handed Seltzer’s reins to Maya without even looking at her. Maya snatched the leather straps from him and turned away to find Aunt Vi studying them again.
    Aunt Vi’s eyes narrowed. Her mouth set in a straight line and her head nodded almost imperceptibly, as if she’d made up her mind about something. “Let’s get started!” she called, rubbing her hands together.
    Aunt Vi barked out orders. Maya walked Seltzer, jogged him, backed up, side passed, and wove in serpentine patterns around poles. Then, on Aunt Vi’s command, she repeated the sequences. After the long lesson, Aunt Vi turned and headed toward the corral gate. Maya dismounted and wiped the sweat trickling down her neck with her kerchief.
    Aunt Vi jerked around. “We’re not stopping, Maya. I know you’ve been on the horse for almost two hours but you’re not done yet. Get back up there. You’re going to lope.”
    â€œBut I’m tired and I’ve never loped before.…”
    â€œMost members of this family learn before they go to kindergarten. Don’t you think you’ve got some catching up to do? Now get back on that horse. Do you want to be the first Limner who doesn’t know how to lope?”
    Why was Aunt Vi being so mean? Maya climbed back into the saddle. “I just … don’t want to go too fast.”
    â€œWhy do you panic every time I ask you pick up a little speed? What is it now, Maya?”
    What was the matter with Aunt Vi? Why was she grilling her? For the entire lesson, nothing had seemed good enough, and she hadn’t given even the tiniest approval. “Going fast makes me feel sick. I actually … get motion sickness.…”
    Aunt Vi put her hands on her hips. “Bring him to a jog. Collect his head. Press your leg on his right side, a little farther back than normal. And make the sound of a kiss.”
    With reluctance, Maya attempted Aunt Vi’s directives. Seltzer made a sudden rise in the air and back down. Like a merry-go-round horse, he jolted up and down, up and down, then faster and faster.
    Aunt Vi yelled, “Let go of the horn! Stay centered. Heels down. Keep your back flexible. Your arms are flapping all over the place! Look where you’re headed, not down at the ground. Don’t let your bottom slap. Oh, for heaven’s sake, say ‘whoa!’ ”
    â€œWhoa!” Maya and Seltzer came to an abrupt stop, and she almost tumbled over the horn.
    â€œThat was messy,” said Aunt Vi. “You can do better. Try again.”
    Shaken, Maya whined, “I want to get off.”
    â€œAgain!” said Aunt Vi.
    Maya frowned but she brought the horse to a jog and gave