There was a sadness in leaving that happy home, in saying good-bye again to that familiar feeling of family that I missed so much. But it was sure enough good to be moving again, to see the trees drifting past as me and Ah-Kee once again pointed our faces in the direction we were going and went.

Sunlight was hitting the tops of the trees as the sun peeked over the canyon’s mountain walls, and birds were trying out their morning songs. The world was waking up all around us and we were getting closer again, I hoped, to my Sarah.

There were no more bone-shaking rapids, no more swimming for me and Ah-Kee. There were some logjams we had to steer around with our paddle, there were some runs we had to hold tight and pray, but that morning the river seemed to be on our side. She carried us on, out of the canyon and into the wide-open sunshine of Yakima Valley.

The town of Yakima was pretty big, at least compared to what I was used to. As we floated up to it we went under bridges that were busy with wagons and horses and people on the move. It was harvest time, after all, and all the orchards were busy getting their apples and pears picked and out to market. The town itself was a sprawl of wooden houses and businesses around a downtown of a few taller brick buildings. From the river we could hear voices, the whinnies of horses, and the hissing and clanking of a train coming or going.

I set my jaw in determination. It was a big town to find one horse in, or one man. And I was a day behind now. The morning’s sunshine faded as we got closer, and clouds crowded the sky. A chilling wind blew through my old clothes. A storm was coming for sure.

Me and Ah-Kee ran our boat up into the bank under some trees and hopped ashore, then headed on into town.

The streets were muddy and jostling with the traffic of horses, wagons, and men. When we got to the middle of town, an intersection of two streets with brick buildings all around, we just stopped and stood there a minute. I didn’t know where to start.

Ah-Kee was standing beside me, gaping at all the commotion just like I was. He looked even smaller and more alone than I felt. I took a step closer to him. Then I smiled at him and nodded, and he nodded back, and I got down to business.

“Excuse me, sir?” I asked the first man I saw, walking down the road with a newspaper under his arm. “I’m looking for a horse trader by the name of Mr. Campbell.”

The man frowned at me, then looked at Ah-Kee and his frown deepened into a downright scowl. He brushed past us without saying a word.

Mama said that if someone’s putting ugliness into the world, you can’t be ugly back; you gotta put a little bit of sunshine into the world to even things out.

I looked at Ah-Kee, who was looking up at me. I made my best imitation of the man, screwing my face up into an exaggerated, evil-looking scowl. Ah-Kee looked confused for a second, then his face cracked into a smile and he laughed. I reckoned that was a little bit of sunshine.

There weren’t no point in giving up. Ah-Kee and I walked up that street, with me asking anyone I could about Mr. Campbell. Some folks were rude, but most folks just said they didn’t know the man or where to find him. A cold rain started dripping down, and the street mostly emptied out. I felt my horse slipping away from me.

Finally we found our luck.

A fine-looking man in a suit, hurrying into a building, answered, “Campbell? No, son, I’m afraid I don’t.” I was prepared to thank him and move on when he added, “But if you keep going down that way you’ll get to Smithson’s. He’s a farrier and horse trader himself, probably the biggest in Yakima. If this Campbell fellow came through here looking for horses, I’d wager that Smithson would know about it.”

“Thank you, sir! Thank you!” I grabbed Ah-Kee by the hand, and we took off running down the street through the rain that was picking and pecking at us.

Smithson’s had a big sign out front: SMITHSON’S SADDLE & TACK: FARRIER, DEALER, HORSES BOUGHT & SOLD. It was a wooden building with a display window full of saddles and bridles, with a big stable and corral out back.

I rushed inside and right past the saddles and displays and goods, to the burly man at the back. He was wearing a heavy blacksmith’s apron and going through some crates under the counter.

“Mr. Smithson, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Sorry to bother you, sir, but I’m looking for a man named Campbell. A horse trader, who I believe may be in town. Do you know him, sir?”

“ ’Course I do,” the man answered in a deep, rumbling voice. He scratched at his massive barrel chest. “Just sold him some horses yesterday, as a matter of fact.”

My heart beat a sure enough joyful song in my chest.

“Can you tell me where he’s staying, sir? Where I could find him?”

“Well, he done left town.”

Mr. Smithson must’ve seen my face fall ’cause he went on encouragingly, “But only just this morning, son. I had breakfast with him. He’s heading over Walla Walla way. Probably didn’t leave more than, say, an hour ago.”

An hour! In all my travels and troubles, an hour was the closest I’d gotten to my Sarah. My breaths came fast and eager, like I was already running after her.

“Does he have his horses with him?”

“ ’Course he does. Nice big string, too, probably fifty head. He can’t be moving too fast, neither. If you hurry on down the road toward Walla Walla, I reckon you could catch him soon enough. Can’t miss him. He’s got all those horses, and three or four men with him, and a covered wagon, too.”

“Thank you, sir!” I said, already turning and running for the door.

Outside I turned to Ah-Kee and grabbed him by the shoulders. My voice was all shaky and high.

“We can catch her, Ah-Kee! Today! I hope you got some go left in your legs, ’cause we’re gonna sure enough be running. You ready, Ah-Kee?”

Ah-Kee had been looking intently into my eyes, no doubt trying to figure out what I was hollering in his face, when suddenly his gaze went over my shoulder to something behind me. He gasped right out loud and stepped past me.

He shouted a word in Chinese. Then again. His voice, if it was possible, sounded even more excited than my own.

I turned, and I saw them.

A group of Chinese, probably ten or fifteen. They were walking up the road, holding bundles and bags. They had a couple mules with them, too, loaded down heavy.

They looked up when Ah-Kee called, and one of them stopped in his tracks. He took a step away from the group, toward me and Ah-Kee. He dropped the load he’d been carrying, right there in the mud of the street. His mouth hung wide open in clear surprise.

“Ah-Kee?” he said in a gaspy whisper. Then he shouted, like a man finally finding gold in his pan, “Ah-Kee! Ah-Kee!”

Ah-Kee left my side and ran across the muddy road and jumped right into that man’s arms.