She loved hearing tales of places far away. Someday she'd go to those places the trappers and traders talked about and speak the languages they spoke. She would leave this dusty little town with its little mud houses and ride south to Santa Fe and Chihuahua and to the grand capital of Mexico with its towers of gold. She'd ride east across Indian Territory to Bent's Fort, the adobe castle on the plains, to visit Papá, and on to the United States and sail across a big blue ocean to even bigger stone castles in Spain and...."Teresita, watch what you're doing!""Ay, no!" Mamá's white blouse had floated from her hands into the swift current.Teresita stepped out, but as the stream tugged at her ankle, she jerked back. Eugenia was already splashing out into the deeper water."Gracias, Eugenia." Teresita cringed, avoiding her sister's eyes.The church bell rang out from the center of town. She was grateful to escape Eugenia's usual lecture about being afraid of water. "Ay, Eugenia! Listen to the bell! Everything's new today! The wagon train is here! Who knows what else will happen?" She grabbed Eugenia's hands and sang,Who makes the soap?We do.Who washes the clothes? We do.