Trouble With Liberty

Kristin Butcher

Orca soundings

Copyright © 2003 Kristin Butcher

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data
Butcher, Kristin

The trouble with liberty / Kristin Butcher

(Orca soundings)

ISBN 1-55143-274-9

I. Title. II. Series.

PS8553.U6972T76   2003   jC813'.54   C2002-911419-5

PZ7.B9691Tr 2003

First published in the United States, 2003

Library of Congress Control Number:
2002115797

Summary
: Liberty is the new girl at school, and everyone wants to be her friend. When she accuses a teacher of assault, doubts start to surface about her motives.

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), the Canada Council for the Arts, and the British Columbia Arts Council.

Cover design: Christine Toller
Cover photography: Eyewire
Printed and bound in Canada

05 04 03 • 5 4 3 2 1

IN CANADA
:
Orca Book Publishers
1030 North Park Street
Victoria, BC Canada
V8T 1C6

IN THE UNITED STATES
:
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 468
Custer, WA USA
98240-0468

For Sheri — my sister and friend
.
KB

Other books by Kristin Butcher:

The Gramma War
Cairo Kelly and the Mann
The Hemingway Tradition
The Runaways
The Tomorrow Tunnel

Forget the grizzly bear.

It should be blue jeans on the
Welcome to Sutter's Crossing
sign. Instead of
Grizzly Country
, it should say
Blue Jean Capital of Canada
. I've lived in Sutter's Crossing my entire life, and the only place I've ever seen a grizzly bear is on that sign. Blue jeans, on the other hand, I see all over the place.

I slid some coins across the counter of the concession and took a long drink of icy Coke.

Ow, ow, ow!
Instant brain freeze.

I closed my eyes until the pounding stopped. Then I took a good look around the rodeo grounds. There were blue jeans everywhere. Even old Granny Wicks was wearing jeans — not pants, but a blue jean skirt, and for an eighty-year-old lady that's just as good.

I wished my mom was there to see that. It might have helped my case. My mother and I had been fighting about jeans for the last three weeks. She hates them. In her whole life I don't think she's ever owned a pair. I, on the other hand, happen to like jeans. And when we go into Kamloops to buy back-to-school clothes, that's what I want to get. But Mom's holding out for skirts and dress pants.

I can't believe she's serious. I'd be laughed right out of the school! She should know that. She works in the school office, and unless she's been typing and filing with a blindfold on, she has to know that normal fifteen-year-old girls don't wear skirts and dress pants. They wear jeans!

From somewhere above me a loudspeaker voice jumped into the air with the hotdog smell. “Ladies and gentlemen, once again it's time to
return to the grandstand. The calf-roping will be starting in five minutes. So find your seats and get ready to enjoy some championship competition.”

I glanced at my watch. I still had half an hour before my babysitting shift at the Kiddy Korral. If Cody was one of the first contestants, I could cheer him on.

The grandstand was already filled by the time I got there, and the people were still coming, so I quickly grabbed a spot along the fence.

The first competitor was Wayne Caruthers, a regular on the rodeo circuit. He and his horse, Phantom, were in position behind the barrier. I looked towards the chute, trying to anticipate the exact second the calf would be released into the corral. Not that it mattered. The cowboy couldn't leave the barrier until the calf crossed the score line.

As the chute opened, the horse's ears perked up and he pawed the dirt, but he made no move to leave the barrier. He knew what to do every bit as well as Caruthers did. The bawling calf trotted forward amid whoops and whistles from the crowd. Cowhands along the side yipped and waved their hats in an effort to get it moving in
the right direction. As soon as it crossed the score line, horse and rider sprang into action.

As Phantom galloped into the open, Caruthers readied his lasso. In ever-widening circles it arced above his head. Then, like a rattlesnake striking, it shot forward and looped around the calf's neck. Phantom dug in his hooves and the rope became taut. At the same instant, Caruthers jumped to the ground and began running down the rope. The calf bawled some more. But before it could make a move to free itself, Caruthers threw it to the dirt and tied its legs together with his pigging string. The crowd roared its approval.

The time clock showed 11.8 seconds. It was a good time and held up easily through the second and third competitors.

I glanced at my watch and leaned over the fence to see who was next. If it wasn't Cody, he was going to have to win without the benefit of my cheering. But I couldn't see past the people lining the fence, so I climbed onto a rail and cupped my hands around my eyes to block out the sun.

And proceeded to fall into the corral — well, almost. If the man standing next to me hadn't
grabbed my arm, I would have done a header for sure.

Embarrassed, I thanked him and went to step down. But there was nowhere to step down to! My little patch of ground had disappeared. It hadn't actually gone anywhere, but there was someone else standing on it. From the way that someone wasn't making the slightest attempt to give me any room, I wondered if I'd had help losing my balance.

My glare was wasted on the top of the girl's head. But her appearance wasn't wasted on me. She looked like she'd walked straight out of a fashion magazine — long blonde hair, tanned skin and white designer jeans.

“Excuse me,” I said, dropping down to earth so deliberately that the girl had no choice but to squeeze closer to the person on her other side. It didn't help. I landed on her foot anyway. I glanced down at the dirty imprint of my runner on what seconds before had been a snowy white canvas shoe.

The girl spun around.

“Oh. Sorry,” I cooed. I wished I'd worn my cowboy boots.

For a split second the girl's eyes flashed and I
steeled myself for a fight, but just as quickly her expression softened and she smiled. She didn't even look down at her shoe.

“It's my fault,” she said. “I didn't realize anyone was standing here.” Then she turned her smile on the person beside her, and everyone skooched down to make more room.

Since I'm five foot five, it's hard to believe she hadn't seen me standing on the fence. And unless she thought I was nailed up there, she had to have known the ground below was mine. But I wasn't looking for an argument, and the loudspeaker guy had announced Cody, so I just shrugged and looked back into the corral.

That doesn't mean I forgot she was there. I was too curious for that. For one thing, the girl looked to be about my age, yet I'd never seen her before. For another thing, the whole time I was cheering Cody on, I could feel her watching me.

“Way to go, Cody!” I yelled when he'd finished. He hadn't beaten Caruthers' time, but he was sitting second. He looked over and waved.

“Your boyfriend?” the girl said, trying to sound casual.

She wasn't fooling me for a second, and I
almost laughed in her face. But then I'm used to girls drooling over my brother. Broad shoulders and a cowboy hat have a way of turning some girls' brains to mush.

I shook my head. “He's my brother.”

Those were the magic words. The girl's body relaxed and I could almost see her claws retracting. “Oh,” she smiled. “He was really good.”

I relaxed a little too. I stuck out my hand and said, “I'm Val MacQueen.”

“Liberty Hayes.”

“So what brings you to Sutter's Crossing?” I asked. “On vacation?”

She shook her head. “Actually, I just moved here.”

My interest perked up. “Really? What grade are you going into?”

“Ten.”

“Me too. If you like, I can introduce you to the other kids.”

She glanced meaningfully across the corral to where Cody was standing.

I may not be the class brain, but I'm not an idiot either. I got the hint. I rolled my eyes and sighed, “
And
my brother.”

Liberty and I spent the last week of summer hanging out together. She didn't know anyone else in town, and I was happy to have someone besides Cody to talk to. Sutter's Crossing isn't what you'd call a bustling metropolis. According to the welcome sign, the total population — not including the baby Mrs. Hooper is expecting next month — is 2,633. And hardly any of those people live in town. So school is pretty much the only place I see my friends, and since it was
summer vacation, I hadn't had a whole lot of contact with anyone for ages. Except for Cody, and he doesn't count.

Well, not to me anyway. He seemed to make quite an impression on Liberty though. But as I said before, most girls like Cody. Cody seemed to be interested in Liberty too. He didn't ask her out or anything, but he was pretty generous with his smile. And he didn't seem to mind us hanging around even though we're two years younger.

It wasn't just Cody who warmed up to Liberty. My whole family thought she was great. If Liberty had shown up at the front door when I wasn't there, they would have hauled her in anyway. She even came with Mom and me when we went clothes shopping
— and
she convinced my mom to let me get jeans. Liberty used exactly the same arguments I'd used, but for some reason they sounded different coming out of her mouth, and Mom bought them. In a way, that bugged me, but since I got the jeans, I didn't complain.

My mother is the secretary at Clarence Cobb Regional Secondary, so Cody and I usually ride to school with her. On that first morning we picked Liberty up too.

I took one last look in the mirror before leaving the house. My jeans fit perfectly and my new white blouse really showed off my tan. My hair even looked okay for a change. It was still a mousy brown, but that morning I'd taken the time to blow it dry, and there seemed to be twice as much of it. I turned my head and watched it swish across my shoulders. Then I stuck my face so close to the mirror that my breath made little fog clouds on it. I studied every inch of my skin. Not a single zit.

I stepped back and smiled at my reflection.

“Not bad,” I told myself. “Not bad at all.”

But once we picked Liberty up, my confidence started to evaporate. How could someone make jeans and a T-shirt look
that
good?

Liberty slid into the backseat beside me. “You look fantastic, Val!” she smiled. “I love your hair.” But before I could return the compliment, she went on, “I'm so nervous.”

About what?
I wanted to say.
Being too rich
? Liberty's family had moved into the old Bartlett mansion on Kokanee Lake Road, and the place was worth a mint, so her parents obviously had money. Maybe she was worried about being too pretty. How about too tanned? Having too many
designer clothes?
NOT!
As far as I could tell, Liberty had
everything
going for her. I wouldn't have thought she'd been nervous a single minute in her entire life. But I have to admit there was a teeny-tiny little green part of me that was happy to hear that she was.