Jenny Grant has invited Andi to Washington Territory for a summertime visit.

What kind of adventures can the two of them find along the coast of Puget Sound?

July 15, 1881

Chapter One

Water. Lots of it. Everywhere Andrea Carter looked.

A spray of icy-cold Puget Sound slapped her cheeks and she gasped. “Crazy,

that’s what I am. Why did I ever agree to this?”

It was too late now. Andi was so far away from the Circle C ranch she wondered

if she would ever find her way back. Washington Territory must be clear on the other

side of the wilderness!

Andi’s mind slipped back to a month ago, to the telegram from her friend Jenny

Grant . . .

***

Luisa handed Andi the slip of paper. “It is a wire for you, señorita.”

“For me?” Andi gave their housekeeper a puzzled frown. Nobody sent Andi

telegrams.

Until today.

She unfolded the paper and scanned it. Jenny had made it home to Tacoma after

her visit to the Circle C last month. The visit where Andi, Jenny, Cory, and Mitch

were stranded in the Sierras for two weeks.

Some vacation.

That wasn’t all the telegram said. Andi’s mouth dropped open.

Mitch walked by just then and peeked over her shoulder. “That wire must have

cost Jenny’s father a pretty penny.”

Andi shrugged. Jenny’s father could afford it. He was a rich lumberman in a

territory that grew trees thicker than a valley rancher could grow wheat.

FAIR’S FAIR, the telegram ended.

“Jenny wants me to visit her in the wilderness,” Andi told her brother.

“You’ve been through a lot this past month,” Mitch said. “I think you should go.”

Mitch was still hobbling around on his crutch. He’d been through even worse.

“I don’t know . . .” Andi’s words trailed off. Washington Territory was three whole

weeks away by ship.

When Andi showed Mother the telegram, she nodded. “Mitch is right. It would

be a good experience and a way to put last month out of your mind.”

“B-but, Mother,” Andi stammered. “Taffy’s in foal and I ought not to leave her.

Besides, I—”

“Don’t you want to go?” Mother raised her eyebrows. “I know you and Jenny

talked about it.”

Sure, they had. But that’s all Andi had thought it was . . . talk.

Mother was still speaking. “Taffy is not due to drop her foal until this winter. That

is a long time from now. You could escape the heat and widen your horizons at the

same time. You’d be away no more than three or four weeks. The larger steamers

can churn up and down the coast in a matter of days.”

Andi was caught in her own trap. Before Jenny had boarded the train to Oakland

and the bay, Andi told Jenny she’d love to visit Washington Territory someday.

Me and my big mouth.

“If you decline the opportunity, you’ll have to wait another year,” Mother said.

“By then you’ll have a foal to train and—”

“All right,” Andi said it before she changed her mind.

She swallowed. She would not let on to Mother that she was a coward. She didn’t

like water, not since she’d nearly drowned last November, when she found herself

in a flooding creek.

The thought of steaming north through the endless Pacific Ocean with the safe,

dry coastline out of reach terrified her.

Mother smiled. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

***

A week later Andi was aboard the steamer Yosemite, with water in her eyes and

hair, paddle wheels sloshing night and day, and a heavy cloud cover most of the trip.

The friendly captain found her sitting on deck the morning before making port.

“It won’t be long now, lass. Tacoma will be in our sights by mid-afternoon.”

Andi strained to see through the gray haze. It wasn’t exactly fog; more like a

constant, light drizzle. “How can you tell? Maybe we’ll steam right past the dock.”

Captain Donahue laughed. “Nay, lass. The clouds will break up soon.”

Andi was not convinced.

She felt damp and chilled up on deck but staying in her cabin was worse. It was

decent enough, and the food was pretty good. But the Yosemite made the trip to

Washington Territory twice a month. She was designed for speed, not comfort.

Worse, the companion Mother found to accompany her youngest daughter on the

voyage (because no young lady ever traveled unescorted) ended up seasick most of

the trip.

Mrs. Wright turned out to be useless as a chaperone. Andi didn’t want her telling

Mother tales, so she stayed in the older woman’s company as much as she could

stand. Then she slipped away for fresh air on deck whenever Mrs. Wright napped—

usually after an encounter with a bucket.

Thankfully, Captain Donahue noticed Andi’s plight and took her under his wing.

He treated her with all respect and shared stories of his daughter Ruth, who lived in

Seattle. The captain knew Jenny Grant’s family and spoke highly of them.

As a result, Andi ended up with the run of the ship under the captain’s watchful

eye whenever Mrs. Wright was asleep—which was often.

Andi was grateful but wary. After all, there was all that cold water everywhere.

Mrs. Wright left the Yosemite in Port Townsend.

After that, Andi had a day and a half of total freedom. Perhaps if the captain had

given her permission to wear sailors’ duds and had put her to work, Andi would not

have had time to fret over the closeness of the sea.

As it was, she spent a lot of time up in the pilothouse, where she saw plenty of

water. And clouds. And occasionally a long, unbroken band of green in the distance.

Chapter Two

Captain Donahue’s weather prediction proved true.

Along about three o’ clock that afternoon, the clouds dissolved. First a streak of

sky appeared, then more, until finally the entire sky turned into a blue canopy.

Where the clouds went, Andi didn’t know. They were there one minute and

vanished the next.

“Summer on the Sound,” the captain explained with a cheerful shrug.

That didn’t explain much to Andi, but she smiled politely and turned eastward,

where the coastline was drawing nearer. The last several damp, cloudy days had

transformed into a warm, crystal-clear July afternoon.

Beauty and color exploded before Andi’s eyes. Instead of slate-gray, the water had

turned a deep blue-green. A thousand diamonds sparkled on the waves. Dozens of

seagulls bobbed up and down with the current, floating past the steamer without a

care in the world.

The water raced to meet the green shore. Andi never dreamed there could be so

many evergreen trees in the whole world. They grew thicker than carrots. Rising high

above the trees and small hills, a towering, snow-capped peak came into view.

“That’s our Mount Rainier,” the captain said. “She’s a beauty, ain’t she?”

“She sure is,” Andi agreed.

“There’s Tacoma.” Captain Donahue pointed to a finger of land sticking out into

the Sound. “She ain’t Seattle, but they do all right.”

Buildings of all shapes and sizes came into view. Tall-masted sailing ships and

steamers, along with tugboats and barges, busily made their way in and out of the

harbor.

Port of Tacoma, late 1800s.

Note the docked steamer Yosemite.

By the time the Yosemite blew her whistle, Andi had packed her carpetbags and

hauled them up on deck. She couldn’t wait to feel dry land beneath her feet.

“Andi!” a shrill voice rose above the babble of deckhands preparing to tie up the

ship. Not fifty feet away, Jenny stood waving her hands above her head and jumping

up and down like a marionette.

Andi waved back. Then . . . clunk!

The Yosemite hit the dock. Andi caught herself just in time.

The captain let Andi go down the narrow gangplank first. “The crew will tote

your bags,” he said. “Go on with ya now, lass.” He chuckled.

Dry land at last!

Jenny and Andi collided, throwing their arms around each other in happy

abandon. Jenny introduced Andi to her little brother, Gideon, and her nearest brother

in age, Micah.

Jenny had three more older brothers, but they were nowhere in sight. Andi

wouldn’t have remembered their names anyway.

Jenny talked a mile a minute as she pulled Andi along. “And here’s my mama and

papa,” she said, shoving her wild cascade of red tangles back from her face.

“How do you do, Miss Carter?” Mrs. Grant said, taking Andi’s hand. In spite of

the mud everywhere—especially around the docks—Jenny’s mother seemed right at

home. “We’re honored you could come for a visit.”

“Indeed.” Mr. Grant chuckled. “Our Jenny talks about you nonstop.”

Mr. Grant was tall, even taller than Chad, who easily passed six feet. His hair was

auburn, and he sported an auburn mustache and beard. Instead of a suit, he wore

lumberjack clothes with suspenders and high, laced boots.

Andi liked him at once.

“Micah, Gideon, take our guest’s baggage up to the house.” Mr. Grant pointed to

where a sailor had dropped the carpetbags near the gangplank.

The two boys hopped to it. They started fighting over who could carry it the fastest

then vanished around a corner.

“Will I ever see my luggage again?” I whispered to Jenny.

Jenny laughed. She clasped Andi’s hand and tugged. Off they went, but Andi had

no idea where they were headed. Jenny didn’t bid her parents good-bye or tell them

where she was going. She just ran, dragging Andi along beside her.

“You’ll be more comfortable once you get out of that stiff traveling getup,” Jenny

said. “Don’t worry if you didn’t bring your casual clothes. I’ve got plenty. We can

snag a pair of Micah’s britches if we need to.” She shrugged. “You’ll just have to roll

up the cuffs.”

Jenny was wearing a dress, clearly not by choice. It hung crooked and rumpled.

By the time the girls slammed onto the back porch of the Grants’ two-story, white

clapboard home, the front of her dress was mud-splattered.

Andi was splattered too, despite the now-sunny skies.

“You’ll get used to the mud,” Jenny said, laughing at the look on Andi’s face. “It

rains a lot here. What do you think grows good trees? I’m hoping the skies stay clear

for a few days. I’ve got plenty to show you. We’ll have a jim-dandy time.”

Andi grinned. She had no doubt about that.

Tacoma, Washington Territory, late 1800s

Chapter Three

During the next three days, Jenny took Andi on a whirlwind tour of Tacoma.

She showed her the docks, the sawmills, and miles of forests and beaches.

On the fourth day, Jenny, Micah, Gideon, and Andi mounted horses and rode out

to an unused military reservation called Point Defiance. It was the finger of land the

captain had pointed out when they were steaming into Tacoma.

Andi marveled at the freedom Jenny and her brothers had. On the ranch, Andi

had freedom too, but the wide, open range seemed friendlier than the rough, narrow

bridle paths through hundreds of acres of dark woods.

The forests of Point Defiance opened up onto the bay. There were trees, then there

was water. A narrow strip of rocks and sand separated the trees from the water at

high tide. Andi shuddered and stayed far away from the beach and all that cold, deep

water?

The next day turned hot. A breeze blew across the water and into town, but Jenny,

who was always quick to complain about the heat, suggested everyone go bathing.

“What?” Andi’s eyes widened.

“Bathing in the Sound.” Jenny pulled her oldest dress over her bloomers, tied back

her hair, and grinned. “It’s the same as swimming, you know.”

No, Andi did not know. She stood stock still. “I don’t bathe in salt water.” She

preferred to bathe in a tub. With bubbles.

“Try it,” Jenny insisted. “Put a toe in. We can catch mud crabs and collect kelp.”

“Kelp makes bully-good whips,” Gideon piped up from outside Jenny’s door.

“Hurry up, slowpokes!”

Andi sighed and half-heartily pulled on a pair of Micah’s overalls. The heavy

fabric would protect her from the cold water better than a thin, calico dress.

“One toe in the water,” Andi said. “And catching crabs might be fun.”

A fuzzy memory from three or four years ago tickled Andi’s mind. She had caught

mud crabs along the seashore on the Pacific Ocean in San Francisco one spring.

Mother had sent Andi to the city to keep her safe from a scarlet fever epidemic raging

in the valley. Melinda and she had enjoyed the beach time, but . . .

Andi smothered a grin. Oh, yes. That was the time the crab she’d put in her pocket

ended up on the snow-white tablecloths of the Cliff House. Everyone, especially

Aunt Rebecca, had been horrified at the scene Andi had created at the restaurant at

Land’s End.

I hope this crab-catching event turns out better than the last one.

The tide was out down by the docks. Every time Gideon turned over a barnacle-

encrusted rock, dozens of tiny, hard-shelled creatures scuttled away to find holes in

the mud.

Most of the crabs were no bigger than Andi’s thumb. Their tiny claws tried to

pinch her hand, but it only tickled. Then Gideon found a big one, at least an inch and

a half across. He held up a stick, where the helpless crab dangled by one claw, a big

claw.

“Almost eating size,” the little boy teased.

“Not really,” Andi remarked.

It wasn’t any bigger than the crab she’d accidentally let loose at the Cliff House.

She bent close to get a better look. The crab might not be bigger than her “pet” in San

Francisco, but this creature looked much angrier. It blew bubbles and waved its free

claw around, pinching the air.

Plop!

The crab let go and fell to the mudflats. It hid under a rock before Gideon could

catch him. The rock was too big to move.

“Oh, clam shells!” he yelled.

A minute later, Gideon forgot about the crabs. He yanked a slimy, seaweed-type

plant off the rocks and started popping the air bladders. Next, he coiled a long rope

of kelp.

“Now I’m a stage driver!” he called out, snapping his “whip.” The bulb end of the

kelp made a good handle.

Jenny and Andi joined him. They whacked each other with kelp until they were

laughing so hard, they had to stop and rest.

Slowly, the tide crept in. The rocks and mud crabs became covered with a layer of

foamy, icy water. Andi stuck her toe in and shivered. Puget Sound was the coldest

water she’d ever felt. Even the winter-cold creek Andi had fallen into last November

did not compare to this.

Jenny plunged into the water and ducked her whole head under. Then she burst

to the surface, shivering. “It’s refreshing!” she said. “Come on in. Try it!”

Gideon ran in, splashing. Soon, brother and sister were in an all-out water fight.

Andi watched from the shore. She stood barefoot in four inches of water and

watched it lap around her quickly numbing feet. When the water got deeper, Andi

backed up.

The Grant kids kept at it for at least twenty minutes. When their faces turned blue

and gooseflesh covered their bodies, they left the water and fell to the sandy beach

next to where Andi now sat.

“You missed some fun,” Jenny said. Her teeth chattered.

“That’s all right,” Andi said. “I had more fun watching.”

The late-July sun quickly dried Jenny and Gideon. All three sat on the beach,

wiggling their toes in the hot sand and looking for agates, small, see-through pebbles.

When the tide grew higher, Gideon looked at Jenny and said, “It’s time.”

Chapter Four

Jenny dropped her agates into her dress pocket and stood up. Shaking off the sand,

she reached down to grab Andi’s hand.

“Where are we going?” Andi rose slowly, not sure what new adventure Jenny and

her little brother had in mind. Hopefully, it had nothing to do with water.

“We’re going crabbing off the dock,” Gideon said. “It’s nigh on high tide.”

Andi gazed at the shoreline and frowned. The rocks where the mud crabs had

scrambled were covered with water.

“Not mud crabs.” Jenny giggled. “Dungeness crabs. The eating kind. We catch ‘em,

boil ‘em right on the beach, crack ‘em, and eat ‘em.”

Gideon rubbed his stomach. “Good eating, crab.”

The vision of those little mud crabs ten times their size terrified Andi. Somewhere

in the back of her mind, she knew people ate crab. Dungeness crab was a Cliff House

specialty at Lands End in San Francisco. They were expensive too.

Jenny and Gideon were going to catch them for free?

Andi had never eaten crab, not even in San Francisco. I’d rather eat rattlesnake.

She didn’t express her sentiments out loud. Her friends looked excited about this

opportunity. They dragged Andi along beach until they reached a narrow pier. It

stretched nearly fifty feet over the water, out into the bay. Near the shore side of the

dock lay a coil of rope and a contraption that looked like a cross between a barrel and

a leaky crate.

Jenny and Gideon heaved the barrel up and dragged it onto the pier. They worked

together like a well-matched team.

Andi stood at the very end of the pier and looked down into the deep, dark water.

She looked around for other people. A few were fishing off another pier, but this

dock was deserted.

If someone fell off this dock at high tide, he’d be a goner, Andi mused.

Jenny and Gideon were struggling with something inside the barrel. The smell

told Andi that whatever it was had seen better days. She glanced down. “Ew! Fish

heads! What are they for?”

“We secure them in the barrel,” Jenny explained. “Crabs love fish heads—”

“And raw chicken parts,” Gideon chimed in.

“We drop the barrel off the end of the pier,” Jenny continued. “It falls over on its

side on the bottom. The fish-head smell brings the crabs. They climb into the trap to

get the fish.”

She plugged her nose. “We’ll pull up the crab pot before they escape. It shouldn’t

take long. These fish heads are really ripe.”

With that, the Grant kids lowered the makeshift crab trap into the water.

Down it went, until the rope they were lowering went slack.

“Now, we wait.” Gideon tied the end of the rope around the nearest piling.

For the next twenty minutes, the three crab-catchers sat on the end of the dock,

swinging their feet and talking. The sun blazed. It felt almost as hot as California.

Then Jenny stood up. “I’m going up to the house for something to eat and drink.

I’ll be back in a jiffy. You two stay here and guard our pot.”

Andi laughed. “What are you talking about? Guard an ol’ barrel in the bay?”

Jenny’s eyebrows came together. “You’d be surprised. I don’t want any poachers

stealing our crabs.”

She turned and ran down the length of the pier and out of sight.

Gideon and Andi sat side by side for a few minutes,

chatting. She liked Gideon. He reminded her of Levi, but

without the rough edges. Gideon had red curls and a

face full of freckles.

“Let’s take a peek at our catch,” he said suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Pull it up and see what we’ve got so far.” He jumped

to his feet and grabbed a length of the rope. The end was

still tied around the piling.

“Let’s wait for Jenny.” Andi wasn’t excited about taking giant-sized crabs with

waving pinchers out of a rickety-looking trap and putting them in a tub of bay water.

She envisioned missing fingers. Her missing fingers.

“I’ll grab the crabs,” Gideon said as if he could read Andi’s mind. “You help pull

up the crab pot.”

Easier said than done.

They yanked on the rope, but the wooden barrel didn’t budge.

Andi yanked harder; Gideon yanked harder. The barrel moved up a few feet.

“Pull harder!” Gideon planted his feet near the edge of the pier, took a deep breath,

and pulled with all his might.

Andi’s fingers slipped. Her hands slid along the rope, burning them.

“Ouch!” She let go.

The crab pot plunged back down toward the sea bottom.

Gideon yelped, tripped, and flew off the dock. As he fell, his head hit the edge of

the pier.

Then he dropped like a rock into the dark water.

Chapter Five

Gideon!”

Andi’s heart froze. Her burning hands turned cold. She ran to the edge of the

dock. “Gideon!” She whipped her head around and screamed, “Jenny! Anybody!”

The fishermen were too far away to hear her cries over the waves and the seagulls.

Gideon’s head popped to the surface. He took a breath.

Andi sprawled out flat on her stomach and reached for him. “Grab my hand!”

The little boy looked at Andi, confused. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and

he slumped. The water covered him.

“No!” Andi shrieked. Gideon was going to drown! What could she do?

The answer hit her like a bucket of ice water. Go after him.

She shrank back. “I can’t. I can’t. I—”

Before Andi could talk herself out of entering that cold, dark water, she twisted

around on her stomach and let her legs and feet hang over the pier. “Help me save

him, Jesus, because you know how scared I am.”

Andi dropped into the icy waters of Puget Sound. She couldn’t swim well, so she

grabbed the piling next to her. They held up the dock and were spaced about every

six feet or so to the shore. She hugged it and slid farther into the water.

The freezing water took Andi’s breath away. Her legs and feet went numb. It was

just as well. The barnacles on the piling scraped her bare lower legs. Andi had rolled

up the overalls earlier that day, and now she was paying the price.

A wave surged and caught Andi in the face. Salt water flooded her nose and

mouth. She sputtered and gagged.

The next wave brought Gideon closer. With one hand firmly grasped around the

thick piling, Andi snatched at the floating boy. Her hand caught his hair, and she

yanked his head out of the water.

It seemed longer, but barely a minute had passed between Gideon going senseless

and Andi’s drop into the bay. “G-Gideon.” Andi’s teeth chattered. “Wake up. We g-

gotta get to shore.”

Gideon didn’t respond. His eyes stayed closed. A long, deep gash cut across his

forehead and dripped blood.

Andi caught her breath. Panic was only seconds away. Keep me calm, God.

She didn’t know what to do. Show me what to do.

They couldn’t stay under the pier, not with the tide nearly high. Andi looked up.

The dock was only a foot above their heads, but she could barely lift herself out of

the water, much less the limp little boy she was clutching. She had him around the

armpits.

Andi and Gideon weren’t going anywhere.

Another wave slapped her, trying to push her away from the piling. Andi held on

tight and looked around. Not far away another piling loomed. Maybe, just maybe . . .

When the next surge came, Andi was ready. She kicked away from the piling and

let the surge carry her toward the next one, the one closer to shore.

They both went under.

Gagging, Andi felt for the piling and pulled herself and Gideon out of the water.

Gideon lay still. His head lolled against her shoulder.

Andi was wet and cold, but she was a little closer to shore. Now, she knew what

to do the next time the waves surged. She bobbed and swam to the next piling. Then

the next. By now, Andi was shaking with cold and nearly lost her grip on Gideon.

The shore was no more than twenty feet away. Andi kicked off for the next piling

and got a surprise. Her bare feet scraped along the slippery, seaweed-covered rocks.

Bottom!

Andi didn’t remember what happened next. One minute she was slipping and

sliding toward shore. She kept Gideon’s head above water and dragged him along.

The next minute she was on shore, collapsing onto the warm sand and breathing a

thank-you to God, and to whomever had yanked Gideon and her the last few yards.

***

After fishing Andi and Gideon out of the water, Mr. and Mrs. Grant made sure

they were wrapped up in blankets. They tended Andi’s multiple barnacle scrapes all

over her legs. Blood trickled from them, and the salt water stung like crazy.

Later, Andi lay on the beach in the sand and gloried in the fact that Jenny’s little

brother was alive.

Gideon had not been in the water long enough to get water in his lungs, but he’d

apparently swallowed a lot of it. When he came to, he immediately threw up, crying

and choking.

“My head hurts!” Then he looked around. “Who’s watching the crab pot?”

Everybody laughed. Mr. Grant and his oldest son, Eli, went to pull up the pot.

When they showed off their catch and learned how Gideon had gone overboard,

Mr. Grant shook his head. “No wonder,” he said. “The number and size of these

crabs is astonishing. That pot was so heavy that Eli and I barely managed it.”

A big fire was laid, and an iron cauldron full of fresh water set to boiling. The crab

feast was wonderful.

“I like crab,” Andi said after cracking and eating both claws of a monster crab. He

must have been ten inches across his back.

The rest of Andi’s visit in Washington Territory stayed quiet. But she discovered

something else after that frightening day. The water didn’t bother her any longer.

When Jenny rose to cool off after a long rest in the hot sand, Andi shouted,

“Hey! Wait for me!” and took off after her.

Boiled Dungeness crabs—yum!