SATURDAY
Meg woke and sprang up: Rodeo day. Danny Mack.
This was the day she would find him, this kid she didn’t like.
In the kitchen, Dad was towering over a huge mess on the counter. He smiled. “Homemade pancakes. Want some?”
Meg looked at the box of Bisquick. “Homemade, huh?”
“Made them at home, didn’t I?”
“Thanks, Dad, but I’m not hungry.”
Jacob and Jeremy stumbled in and hunched over the table. Mr. Harris handed each of them a plate stacked with pancakes.
Meg managed one, then pushed her chair back. “Thanks for making breakfast, Dad. It was good.”
“That all you’re having?”
“I have to check on Banjo.”
Jeremy grabbed her plate and scraped her leftovers onto his.
“Oink,” she said.
Banjo was sitting out in the pasture watching the horses again. He stood when he saw her.
“Come, Banjo. Come here, boy.”
He hesitated, then reluctantly came toward her, head down, tail brushing the grass. He stopped halfway and sat.
Meg sighed but was pleased that he’d at least done that much.
If Danny Mack showed one ounce of not caring for Banjo, she’d walk away, just like that.
“Meg?”
Mom tiptoed out into the dewy pasture in her sheepskin slippers with a plate of leftover pancakes. “I thought Banjo might like these.”
Meg took one and held it up. “Look what I’ve got for you.”
Banjo snatched it and ate it in two gulps. He looked up for more.
“Wow!” Meg said. “Who knew pancakes were the key?”
Mom pulled Meg close. “If we don’t find who he belongs to, you can keep him.”
“Really?”
“But you’ll have to do all the extra work. This place is turning into a zoo.”
“You know I will.”
“Give him another pancake before his eyes bug out.”
Meg gave him the last two, then knelt and rubbed his back, his pancake breath warm on her face.
“Mom…how can you tell if someone abandoned his dog? He sure wouldn’t tell you.”
“No.”
“I guess Banjo’s not lost at all, is he?”
“Listen,” Mom said. “If it feels wrong to give Banjo back, we won’t. But people should have a chance to have their say.”
“His story better be good, then, because if it isn’t, I’ll have my say.”