*** I am not sure if anyone will even like this story, but please review and tell me if I should continue and where you want this story to go, please also read my other Fic " A New Year"… thanks!*** I WILL DEVELOP THE PLOT SOON SO DO NOT SAY IT IS NOT GOING ANYWHERE*** I don't own ANYTHING …don't sue.***

***HIT F5 to refresh****

**DO NOT COPY MY IDEA*** I do not own anything** *** 

** I changed a whole lot of things about the story... I recommend you go back and read it over to see the changes... sorry***

________________________________________________________________________

                                               Prairie Lakes, 1893

            "Gone!" Lizzie's mother wept. Her eyes were red. Her nose was raw. Lizzie knew she must look the same way.

            "There, there Josephine, it was bound to happen sooner or later," Lizzie's father addressed her mother. "Children grow to adulthood and move on to their own lives." Hi voice trembled as he spoke. Lizzie knew, even though Miranda was not there biological daughter they loved her just as much as Lizzie and Matt.

            "Adulthood?" Mrs. McGuire shook her head over and over again. "Miranda is only sixteen!"

            "At sixteen, my darling, you made a long ocean voyage all by yourself, did you not?" Mr. McGuire reminded her.

            She nodded, but her tears continued to flow faster than her husband could wipe them away.

            "Perhaps I did," She managed between sobs. "But I had no choice, Miranda- well this is my entire fault. I saw her sneaking off each day in her boy's costume. I knew she had a wild streak. Why did I not stop her?"

            Elizabeth swallowed back her own tears. "Mama, Miranda must be so happy right now. You know, yesterday she told me this was what most in the whole world, that joining up with the circus was her most precious dream."

            Lizzie knew the truth of her words. She tried to feel like she was sharing Miranda's joy. But all she really felt was that she and Miranda might never share anything again. Never plait each other's hair in the morning. Never fight over a favorite dress. Never stick up for each other against Ethan Craft. Never pick apples together at the fall harvest. Never tell each other there their biggest secrets in the middle of the night. Her sister, her best friend, the closest person in the world to her was gone.

            I'll miss you, Miranda had written. Take care of Wind Catcher, ride him for me everyday. He is a great horse.

            How could Miranda have done this? Lizzie couldn't keep her self from wondering. Worse, how could she have done this to her parents? After all they had done for her. Just as she had tried to feel joy a moment earlier, now Lizzie tried to get angry. Anything was better than this hollow ache, as if something inside of her was missing, some part of her that she'd never been without. No that she could remember. She ran her fingers over her sister's note, the writing streaked by tears. Lizzie just couldn't be angry at Miranda for following her dream. But she didn't know how she could bear to live her life without her.

            "I win," Lizzie said, without much enthusiasm. She laid out her cards, a seven, eight, nine, ten, and jack. The jack, sword in hand, was perched on a horse. Lizzie hated drawing this card. It reminded her to much of Miranda. She had been gone for four long months now. The winter seemed to be stretching on endlessly.

            "Goodness," her father said. "I don't know what your secret is, but you just can't be beat."

Elizabeth could tell he was trying hard to be cheery. But it felt as if they had repeated this exact scene night after night, a million and one times in a row. Lizzie yawned. Maybe Miranda was right about Prairie Lakes. Of course, it had never been boring when she was around.    

            Somehow, even in the dead of winter, Miranda had managed to keep things lively. Right now, if she were still here, they might be out for any icy nighttime snowball fight. It would last until their fingers and toes were frozen. Then they'd stomp into the kitchen and rub their hands and feet until they came back to life.  Miranda would grimace and make all kinds of noises, as if her feet were frozen ten times worse then Lizzie's. Over steaming hot cocoa, they'd plan to sneak something really awful into Larry Tudgemans dinner bucket- a frozen worm, perhaps. They'd talk about the skating party coming up this weekend, and even if they played cards afterward, somehow it would wind up being exciting. Things just seemed to turn out that way when Miranda was there.

            Of course, Gordo would be taking Lizzie to the skating party, but of course there would be no one to get ready with, no one to style her long blonde hair, no one to talk to after it was all over. Who would she tell about Kate Sanders new skating outfit, or how Ethan Craft had skated after two girls all afternoon, or how Larry Tudgeman had gotten to close to a patch of thin ice?

            Lizzie sighed. Her mother put down her own cards and patted her arm. "Yes, dear, we miss her, too. It hurts, I know."

            Lizzie swallowed hard and thought about what old Abraham had said to her earlier that week. He had been looking for herm the beginning reader she's lent him in his hand, to ask her what a word meant. He had found her in the barn burying herself in hay the way she and Miranda used to do when they were little. Lizzie had been horribly embarrassed. There she was, her dress covered with straw, her hat slipping down over one ear, behaving like a child.

            But Abraham understood, "I remember how you and Miss Miranda used to love that game when you were children," he said. He didn't seem to think there was a thing wrong with forgetting to be ladylike for a few moments.

            "Did I ever tell you about how it felt the day I got my freedom, Miss Elizabeth?"

            Lizzie shook her head.

"It was scary. About the scariest thing that ever happened to me, suddenly not knowing what the next ay was going to be like, but then I got to thinking about how it used to be like. When I was a slave my day was either bad or worse. You see what I'm saying, Miss Elizabeth? Getting my freedom was like getting a future. For the first time in my life, the next day could be different from the one before it."

            Lizzie had nodded slowly. "I think I understand"

"Well maybe this is Miss Miranda's time for freedom," Abe had said. "A chance for tomorrow to be different from today. Everybody who wants that chance should have it."

            Lizzie knew Abraham was right. She was sure Miranda was happy with her new freedom. And she was grateful for Abe's kindness and understanding.

            Everybody had been so nice to her since Miranda had left. Claire Miller had invited her over to bake butter cookies. Ethan and Larry had come calling on the whole family one evening. And of course Gordo had been wonderful. He had showered her Elizabeth with fall flowers as long as they'd been in bloom, and then brought her fiery bouquets of autumn leaves. In the winter he had switched to armfuls of freshly cut pine boughs and branches of red-berried holly.

            But not even Lizzie's growing love for Gordo could fill the emptiness inside of her.