For about the next twenty miles, I’m silent, considering this theory. It’s a ridiculous idea. Suze and Tarkie would never sell their ancestral home, even if they were put under pressure. Surely they wouldn’t.

Surely?

I glance sidelong at Suze. Her hair is always scrunched in a knot these days, like she doesn’t care about anything. Her lips are chapped and her face is strained. The truth is, I don’t know what I think anymore. Suze and Tarkie aren’t in a good place; Tarkie finds Letherby Hall hard to run; Suze isn’t thinking straight right now….

But they can’t sell. That house has been in their family for a zillion years. Just the thought gives me a horrible pang. And to Alicia Bitch Long-legs, of all people? I can just see Alicia wearing a tiara and making all the villagers curtsy while some little girl gives her a posy and whispers, You’re so beautiful, Princess Alicia. Ugh. It can’t happen. It can’t.

From: [email protected]

To: Brandon, Rebecca

Subject: Re: Disaster

Dear Mrs. Brandon,

Thank you for your email. I’m so sorry to hear that your efforts to bond with Ms. Bitch Long-legs failed. I am also sorry to hear you feel so powerless and “like everything’s impossible.”

If I may be so bold, Mrs. Brandon, I would say, “Don’t give up.” Positive action boosts the soul.

In all our years of knowing each other, I have observed with admiration your dynamic approach to life’s problems and innate sense of justice. This has empowered you before and I feel certain it will again.

Things may seem difficult at the moment, but I feel sure that you will prevail.

With kindest best wishes,

Derek Smeath

TEN

The only disadvantage to a road trip, I’ve decided, is the actual road bit. Everything else is brilliant—the RV, the diners, the views, the country music. (I made Luke tune in to a country-music radio station for a bit, and, God, country singers understand how you feel. One song, called “Only Your Oldest Friend,” almost made me cry.)

But the roads are a total pain. They’re too long. I mean, it’s ridiculous. Someone should rethink them. Plus the map is very deceptive and sneaky. It lures you in. It makes you think, Oh, I’ll just zip along that bit of freeway—it’s only one centimeter, it can’t take long. Ha! One centimeter? One whole day out of your life, more like.

It’s quite a distance to Tucson, Arizona, it turns out. It’s even more of a distance when you realize that the ranch you’re after is beyond Tucson. By the time we roll up at the Red Ranch, Cactus Creek, Arizona, we’ve been on the road practically all day. We’ve taken turns driving, and we’re all stiff, exhausted, and out of conversation. Plus my head is ringing with the tunes of Aladdin, which Minnie has just forced me to watch along with her, with headphones on.