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“I don’t know. I’d like to see rain.” Joseph was too distracted to focus on their old childhood game. He was thinking about what Mason had told him and wondering whether there would still be a shipment coming. Nobody had told him what had taken place between Mason and Gerda and Lars. But he’d overheard enough to piece the story together. If Mason was in trouble, maybe the shipment wouldn’t happen.
The dull thud of dirt falling on coffin lids signaled the end of the funeral service. After a few moments of thanks and farewells, Joseph’s parents came back to the buggy with Inga and Britta in tow. The family would be having dinner at the Dollarhide home on the bluff.
“Is Aunt Kristin coming?” Annie asked.
Joseph’s father scowled. “I invited her to come—alone. But she said she had other plans. So, no. She’s made her choice.”
Crowded into the buggy, they drove back through town and south toward the road that cut off to the Dollarhide Ranch. Joseph’s pulse quickened as they approached the fence on the right-hand side of the road. Would the ribbon be there?
He shaded his eyes. But there was nothing to see. There was no ribbon.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THREE DAYS AFTER THE FUNERAL, WHEN MORNING CHORES WEREdone, Joseph rode down to meet his friends. That was when he saw it—the narrow black ribbon, tied to a fence wire, its loose ends fluttering in the wind.
Buck, Cully, and Chase were waiting for him behind the store. Joseph was bursting to tell them the news. As expected, each of them reacted differently.
“Hot dog!” Buck exclaimed. “I’d almost given up. Maybe the boss will let me guide the truck this time, instead of stacking boxes.”
Cully sighed. “I’m in. But I guess I’ll have to bring my dad along. He asks me every day when the next shipment is coming. I’d never get away without him.”
“The boss won’t like it,” Buck said.
“I know. But there’s not much I can do.”
Chase, as always, was worried. “You know, you don’t have to do this. What’s ten dollars if you get caught and sent away? If you’re that desperate for cash, I’ll find a way to get you the damned money.”
None of the other boys took him up on his offer. It wasn’t just about the money—not for any of them, especially not for Joseph. But Chase, who had everything a boy could possibly want, couldn’t be expected to understand that.
They rode their horses up to the mouth of the canyon and hiked to the spring-fed waterfall. They arrived hot and sweaty, anxious to cool off in the spray. But the spring was down to a trickle now. The pool at the base was almost dry, the surrounding rocks hot enough to burn through their jeans when the boys tried to sit on them.
Joseph studied the blazing sky, finding only a useless wisp of cloud in the west. “I’d give ten dollars for rain right now,” he mused aloud.
“My dad would give a thousand,” Chase said. “But it wouldn’t do any good. Rain isn’t for sale.”
“Let’s go home,” Buck said. “We’ll need to rest up for tonight.”
“Are you sure you can get out?” Cully asked.
“Pretty sure,” Buck said. “At least, with your dad along, you won’t have that problem.”
They trooped down the canyon, mounted up, and rode back to town, where they would go their separate ways until late tonight, when they’d rendezvous at the black ribbon.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Chase said, as he and Buck prepared to ride back to the Triple C. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“Stop fussing like an old biddy hen, Chase. We’ll be fine,” Joseph said. “The boss won’t let anything happen to us.”
“I wish I had your confidence.” Chase turned his horse. Buck followed him as they headed out of town.
“Maybe Chase will talk Buck out of going with us tonight,” Cully said.
“Maybe,” Joseph answered. “If I know Buck, he’ll show up no matter what Chase says. But even if he doesn’t, we should have enough help with your dad along. I’ll see you tonight.”
* * *
Joseph arrived home early, hoping to hide out in his room and read. But his dad had other ideas. “We’ve got a fence down in the south pasture,” he said. “You’re just in time to come along and help me fix it.”
Joseph suppressed a groan. “Can’t one of the hands fix the fence?”
