you?”

Addie kept clucking but shook her head.

“Do you know where she is?”

Another head shake.

Betsy peered around the edge of the henhouse and scanned the backyard. She checked Walsh’s usual hiding spot behind a big hydrangea near the porch steps. Nothing.

“Walsh?” she called. “Walsh, come on out!”

After a quick walk through the house in case she’d missed Walsh coming back inside, Betsy’s heart started to beat a little faster. Logically, Walsh couldn’t have gotten far, but telling herself that didn’t slow down her heart. She focused her eyes on the entrance to the barn and the sheds surrounding it. No movements small enough to come from a tiny Walsh.

“Walsh? Walsh!”

Picking up on the panicked decibel of Betsy’s voice, Addie crossed the yard and wrapped her arms around Betsy’s leg. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Betsy said, peeling Addie’s arms from her legs. “If you’d kept your eye on her—” She stopped herself—had she really expected a five-year-old to babysit her three-year-old sister?—but the damage was done. Addie’s chin trembled and her eyes filled.

Betsy knelt in front of her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It was not your job to watch your sister. It was my job. But we can find her together, okay?”

When Addie sniffed and nodded, Betsy took her hand and half led, half pulled her toward the barn. Ty rounded the corner just as she made it to the barn door. He smiled but stopped when he saw Betsy’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Walsh.”

“What do you mean, you can’t find her?”

“I mean, I don’t know where she is. I was inside working and I thought they were both out in the yard. When I came out, Addie was with the hens and Walsh was nowhere.” She took a breath. “I’ve looked all around the house. Inside and out.”

“Okay, well, she’s got to be somewhere. Walker’s in the barn. I’ll check with him.”

Inside, Walker was adjusting dials on the tanks, getting the morning’s milk ready for transport. He shook his head when Ty asked if he’d seen Walsh running around. As Betsy passed him on her way to the other side of the barn, she heard him mumble, “Didn’t know babysitting was part of my job description.”

Back out in the sunshine, she and Ty called for Walsh over and over, looking in every small space they could imagine Walsh might want to inspect. Tears were pricking the backs of her eyes when she saw Carlos strolling toward the barn with Walsh by his side. Betsy exhaled.

“I found someone out in the side pasture,” Carlos called. “This little lady was pretending to drive the tractor. Good thing the keys weren’t in it. From the looks of her, she’d have figured out a way to drive off with it if given half a chance.”

Betsy squatted in front of Walsh, who grinned, her cheeks still smeared with jelly from breakfast. Betsy wanted to ask her what in the world she’d been thinking, but that was just it—Walsh hadn’t been thinking. All she knew was she wanted to explore, so she did. She hadn’t meant to do anything wrong.

“Please don’t leave the backyard unless someone is with you. A grown-up someone. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Betsy rubbed jelly from the corner of Walsh’s mouth, then stood. When Addie and Walsh scampered off toward the backyard, with Addie pulling Walsh’s hand and telling her about Parsley the hen, Betsy turned to Ty.

“That could have been bad.”

Ty ran his hand over the top of his head and sighed. “Jenna’s got her work cut out for her with that one.” He squeezed Betsy’s hand. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get back to it. Milk truck’s gonna be here any minute.”

Betsy nodded and followed the girls toward the house. Back inside, they went right back to their antics, bouncing the pink ball around in the den, oblivious to the panic that had just ripped through Betsy’s morning. She was beginning to see why Jenna wanted to get away for a little while.

Just as she sat back down to work, the pink ball bounced into the kitchen, ricocheted off the fridge and Betsy’s shoulder, and knocked over her glass of water. Etta followed, looking frantically for the ball, her claws skidding on the hardwood floor. The girls were close behind in a fit of giggles.

Betsy jumped up and mopped the water with a dish towel before it could reach her computer. She picked up the dripping YMCA flyer and dropped it into the trash can, then shut the laptop. Not gonna happen today. She gathered her papers, set them on top of the computer, and put the whole stack on the washing machine, the only place she could be sure the girls wouldn’t find it. On the way back through the kitchen, she grabbed her phone.

“Hey, you,” Anna Beth boomed. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, fine, just losing my mind. And Walsh.”

Anna Beth laughed.

“You think I’m kidding. I lost her. Carlos found her sitting on the tractor in the pasture. All I wanted was to get a tiny bit of work done this morning, but between trips to the potty and spilled drinks and missing children, I still have a million e-mails to send and phone calls to return. Is it always like this?”

“Pretty much. But that’s when you just give up and get out of the house. It’s not any calmer over here, but you’re welcome to come by. I have wine in the fridge and a glass with your name on it.”

Betsy smiled. Anna Beth actually did have a wineglass with Betsy’s name on it, a holdover from when Anna Beth hosted a monthly book club at her house. The club was never really about the books though. “Thanks, but some adult company’s all I need. We’ll be there in ten.”

Anna Beth’s house was a hive of activity. Jackson and his friends were upstairs playing video games, their voices careening down the staircase. Lucy and a neighbor were spread out at the kitchen table making beaded bracelets. “Everyone wears

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