Kara rolled her eyes, tossed another fork full of manure into the wheelbarrow, then turned to her best friend. “Tia Louise Sanchez, I’ve heard every word you’ve said for the past fifteen minutes, but I have to get these stalls cleaned or we won’t have any place to put the horses. It’s supposed to get down into the thirties tonight.” Tia flashed a guilty smile and set the Internet printouts on the nearest hay bale. “Sorry. Guess I should be helping, huh? Then maybe we can go up to your room and look at the stuff I found out about your ancestors.” She grabbed a shovel and began scooping clean sawdust into Lily’s stall. “My supposed ancestors. Anne could be wrong, you know.” Tia shook her head. “Anne is never wrong. If she says Wakara means moon in the Yana language, then she’s probably right.” Kara nodded. “I guess so.
