Free Zooey Pinkerton- a Daughter's Right by Heather McAlendin

One
     
     
    Pinkerton Ranch was a sprawling
mass of contradictions. The land ranged from lush grassy fields to
jagged, rocky outcroppings that would threaten the life of any man
or beast that didn't have respect for what the land could do. What
had started out as a small, family homestead by immigrant rancher
Andrew Pinkerton, was now a thriving cattle and horse ranch that
employed up to twenty-five ranch hands and wranglers.
    Through conscientious breeding,
the Pinkerton Palomino’s were sought out for stud services all over
the settled Western United States.
    A large man, with rugged
features; a constant five o'clock shadow and calloused hands,
Andrew Pinkerton could often be found riding among his wranglers
and helping the ranch hands with any job, big or small. Andrew
loved being in the middle of all the action. He was a hands on
owner who believed in working hard and working smart. He paid his
employees well and was known for being a bit of a tough taskmaster
- but in the end, money talked. As a result, staff turnover was
kept to a minimum.
    Running the Pinkerton Ranch was
no picnic. While Andrew worked hard, he had a penitent for playing
harder and loved to drink and gamble. At times his excessive
gambling caused him to lose large amounts of money. Money that he
would borrow from the loan sharks in town…but he always managed to
pay back.
    When his wife died in
childbirth, eighteen years earlier, a piece of Andrew's soul died
with her. From that moment onward, he had to raise their child on
his own. Although he did the best he could, it was not the same for
a man in the Wild West to raise a daughter without much female
influence. Begrudging the fact that he had no sons, Andrew raised
his daughter to be faster, stronger and smarter than any of his
male employees. He taught her to shoot a rifle and lasso a calf and
how to break and ride horses with the best of them. Andrew raised
his daughter, Zooey to be the son he knew he would never have.
    He stood out and stared at the
newest lot of foals. He was mesmerized watching them at play,
nipping and running as carefree as the wind. He pulled his hat down
over his eyes and wiped imaginary dirt off his shirt with a large,
calloused hand. “If only we could all be so free. Life is never
free. We all have to pay our debts.” He sighed heavily and turned
toward the main house.
    “Pops! Hey Pops, wait up!”
    Andrew looked up to see Zooey
walking with her favourite Chocolate Palomino, Gypsy. Zooey’s blue
eyes were bright, and her pale, freckled cheeks were flushed from a
late afternoon ride. Her reddish blonde hair was dishevelled and
her jeans and boots were covered in mud.
    “Hey there Sparky. How was the
ride?”
    Andrew had given Zooey the
nickname Sparky when she was two years old. She had her mother's
fire for life…and Sparky had been her nickname from that moment
onward.
    “Great! Gyspy and I crossed the
creek. Hope it rains soon. Not much but mud and dust out
there.”
    “You may get your wish,” Andrew
said as he pointed to the sky. “Looks like some storm clouds are
brewing.”
    Zooey shielded her eyes from the
sun and grinned as she searched the darkening, afternoon sky.
“Fantastic! I'll put Gypsy away. Is dinner ready?”
    Andrew sniffed the air and
nodded. “Smells like it. Hurry back. It won’t be my fault if the
hands eat all the cheese biscuits Marta baked today!”
    “Be right back Pops!”
    Andrew smiled as he watched his
daughter walk away. He was proud of how she was turning out and
hoped her mother would have been as well. Although he knew that his
deceased wife would never have chosen the blue jeans and flannels
Zooey wore; she would have preferred a dress with a long skirt and
lace bodice. But Zooey was bright, tough, and always had a smile on
her face. She went out of her way to learn how the ranch was run
and lent a hand whenever she could. Andrew had high hopes that one
day she'd be tough enough to take it over.
    “I reckon she will be