Free Three Wishes by Lisa Tawn Bergren, Lisa T. Bergren

brown, with poufy sleeves and a white apron-like overlay, and the other was a deep, dark blue with a high neck and long sleeves. At the bottom of the chest were a couple pair of worn boots, and woolen socks. It all looked hot—as in heat-hot, not style-hot—and I groaned. I’d always been a flip-flop and shorts kind of girl, six months out of the year. But here on the ranch, there was no way I’d get away with that. Not that there were any flip-flops or shorts within reach.
    I tried one pair of the lace-up boots, but they were too small. Then the other, which were a bit big…I stuffed some handkerchiefs into the toes, then pulled on the woolen socks and the boots. I chose the brown dress, thinking it was a bit softer and lighter than the other, and managed to slip it over my head, leaving only two buttons at the upper-center of my back in need of fastening. Then I ran my hands over my wild hair and wondered if I should braid it, like Laura would have.
    A small knock sounded at my door, and I moved over to answer it. “ Buenos días , Señorita Ruiz,” twelve-year-old Estrella said, grinning up at me. “Frani wondered if you might need help with your hair before breakfast, and Captain Worthington left this for you.” She lifted the big-toothed bone comb I’d used on the beach yesterday.
    “Oh, yes,” I said. “Thank you.” I gestured for her to come in, and I sat down on the corner of the bed. “Would you do it for me? I’d be so grateful.”
    “Of course,” she said, flashing a gap-toothed grin at me. It was just like her little brother Jacinto’s smile, only more seldom seen. Maybe she hid it because of the gap? Her own hair, black and straight, was tied into a neat, thick knot at the nape of her neck. I didn’t know what she was going to do with mine, without aid of a hair product, a straightener, and elastic bands, but she seemed game to try.
    As Estrella worked, I unwound the bandage from my hand and asked her question after question, realizing this was a rare opportunity to do some research and get some sort of grip on this place, this family.
    “How long have you lived here, Estrella?” I said, wincing a bit as she tugged through a knot in my hair.
    “Here? On Rancho Ventura? All my life,” she said.
    Well, duh, I chided myself. Way to go, Captain Obvious. “Do you go to school?”
    “No. We had a tutor one year, and a governess for three, when I was little. I know how to do arithmetic,” she said proudly, “and I read quite well. It’s only that I tire of our books. I’m always begging Javier to trade for new books when he goes to the harbor. He gets me one every Christmas. Novels are my favorite.”
    “Mine too,” I said.
    “My papá used to buy me a novel every time he could.”
    “What happened to your papá?”
    “He died five years ago. It was his heart. Then Dante, our oldest brother, last year…” Her voice cracked and I turned to take her hand for a moment.
    “My abuela died…recently,” I said, tearing up. “She was dear to me. Losing her has been the hardest thing. Were you close to Dante?”
    “Close to him?” she asked in confusion over my phrasing.
    I took a breath. “Was he…dear to you?”
    She nodded, blinking back tears in her beautiful dark eyes. Then she resumed her combing of my hair. “Javier had to come back from Mexico when Dante died.”
    A college boy, I thought. No, probably more like a frat boy. Forced to return home. Maybe that’s why he’s a little rebellious. I thought back to the men chasing him on the beach yesterday and the secret he’d convinced me to keep.
    “Where are your neighbors, Estrella? Do you ever see them?”
    “Oh yes,” she said enthusiastically. “Every few months at the charreada , near town. The Vargases and Fuenteses and Herreras are always there. They are our nearest neighbors. But many others come too.”
    The charreada, I repeated silently. An old Mexican rodeo sort of event, if I remembered right. “And how far