Secondhand Horses by Lauraine Snelling

for her friends. The shed, where Uncle Dave had met his horrible fate, had a cracked cement floor you could see. Sure, a few chunks were missing and there were lots of cracks, but yes, there was a floor. It wasn’t a Great Idea and it wasn’t exciting or fun, but it was working.
    What wasn’t working, however, was being good at being Esther. Sunny tried telling everyone what to do. Except she kept forgetting to think ahead to the next thing, and the girls kept coming up and asking, “Where does this go? What do I do with this?” Finally, she burst out with, “Okay, I’m not a good Esther. Everybody, do what you want. Just make it so”—she made an exaggerated sweep of her hand to include the entire shadowy, cluttered shed—“nobody”—she winced—“and I mean
nobody
, will trip over anything.”
    “I could take over and tell everyone,” Esther offered.
    “I can figure it out. Thanks, Esther.” Vee grabbed an open, dried-out paint can, tucked a canning jar of nails and screws under her arm, and began to drag an old carpet toward the shed door.
    Esther huffed, looked like she might get mad—Sunny hoped she wouldn’t—then shook her head. “Okay, here we go! Operation Clean!” Bending over, she inspected a rusted, dented bucket. “There’s a pair of spurs in here.”
    Sunny told her how those spurs had sent her sprawling her first night at the ranch.
    “Ugh. They’re, like, sharp and dangerous and rusty.” Holding them as if they were bombs about to go off, Esther returned them to the bucket.
    Once everything was out, the girls sorted it into piles. Vee’s idea: J UNK , which meant it got dumped in the Dumpster on the far side of the lean-to; K EEP (Esther’s insistence), which meant it was placed in the back left corner (Esther and Aneta’s job); and W HO K NOWS ?, which meant they would have to ask Uncle Dave when he was next awake. Sunny did whatever she was told.
    Aneta and Sunny stacked the W HO K NOWS ? pile in the back corner, way out of the way. This included the yoke that had trapped and snapped Uncle Dave’s ankle. Sunny shuddered as she dragged it to the back.
    “Not much time left.” In the doorway, Vee stood silhouetted by the fading light of day. “How much is there left to do?”
    “No time for the top floor.” Sunny blew out a tired breath. “I don’t think I’ll be going up there anytime soon anyway. You guys, if I had to do this by myself, I would be doing it until my brothers were taller than I am.” She kicked the stack of old metal buckets. “Thanks BUCKETS. So you think maybe it was a Great Idea that I
didn’t
do it when Uncle Dave asked me? So I’d have help?” She sucked in her cheeks so she wouldn’t laugh.
    “Ha-ha, I don’t think so,” Vee said sternly.
    “My mom would say two wrongs don’t make a right!” Esther shook her head as a smile slipped out.
    “Sunny!” Aneta looked horrified, yet a grin slid over her face.
    “Joking! Joking!” She couldn’t keep her face looking serious. “I’m starving. Oh no!” Turning a shocked face toward her friends, she said, “I forgot to feed Uncle Dave. If it’s dark, it must be past suppertime.”
    “You need to feed us, too,” Vee reminded her.
    After a hilarious dinner with Uncle Dave, who was wide awake, the girls spent the rest of the evening unpacking his boxes. He sat up on the couch so he could direct their efforts, his ankle supported on pillows. With their running in and out of rooms, yelling, “Here? Does it go here?” the pile of boxes shrank. Uncle Dave seemed to be enjoying the job, Sunny thought. His rat-a-tat laugh was back.
    This was the most fun unpacking had ever been. Her uncle had some weirdo cool stuff from his travels around the country and was more than willing—now that he was off pain pills—to tell the story behind it. With another box nearly emptied, she peered in to see what was left. One cowboy boot with a glitter-covered fake plant sticking out. “Wow, Uncle Dave.