Cookie handed Peggy Sue a clean handkerchief. “We didn’t know the girl was missin’ until the noontime meal.”

“We’ll find her,” Chase said. His voice left no doubt, but Emily could see that he was more concerned than he let on.

“I’ll let the others know we need help,” Chase added. He glanced at the western sky. The sun was low, and long shadows crept across the terrain.

Cookie nodded. “I’ll send up the white flag.”

“The white flag?” Emily asked.

“That’s my signal that we have a problem back at the house,” Cookie explained.

Anxious to start searching, Emily flung the towel on a hook and started toward the stables. “I’ll saddle Daisy.”

Chase stopped her with a hand to her arm. “If’n you want to help, hang a white sheet on the gate. That will let anyone passin’ this way know we need help.” He turned to Peggy Sue. “Stay here in case she shows up.” With that, he spun around, calling to Rusty.

Cookie raced to the house with Emily at his heels. “Where do they keep the sheets?” she asked.

“Upstairs in the hall cupboard.”

Just as they entered the house, Emily heard Chase sending a distress signal with three carefully spaced rifle shots. Between the flag, the sheet, and the gunfire, it was clear he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Knowing Chase was in charge helped calm her anxiety.

By the time she had located the closet, grabbed an armful of neatly folded sheets, and returned outside, Cookie had already raised the white flag on the flagpole, and it flapped briskly in the breeze.

Peggy Sue hadn’t moved from the spot, and Emily couldn’t help but feel for her.

The thought of Ginny out there alone and in danger made Emily cringe. How much harder it must be for her mother!

Emily handed Peggy Sue one of the sheets. Having something to do helped her, and she hoped it would help Peggy Sue as well. “Come on. Let’s get to work.”

Neither of them said a word as they made their way to the front gate. No sooner had they draped the sheet over the fence than a farmer driving a wagonload of hay stopped to inquire what the problem was.

“Thought I heard a signal for help,” he said.

“A little girl is missing,” Emily called over the gate. “She’s nine, and her name is Ginny.”

The farmer spat a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground. “I’ll get my sons. I’ll be back.” He quickly took off, his wagon wheels leaving a trail of dust behind.

“We better go back to the house in case Ginny shows up,” Emily said.

Arms folded, Peggy Sue glared at her. “I’d rather that you weren’t there when she comes home. You’re the reason she’s missing.”

Emily bit her bottom lip. Ginny was missing because her mother had put a stop to the lessons, but it was no time to argue. The woman was half out of her mind with worry and, for that reason, deserved leniency.