13
The journey back to the farmhouse went by fast, neither speaking, arms pumping as they marched resolutely over the hills, leaving the village far behind. Richard had expected to see the tall stranger on the bridge, but there had been no sign of him. And, with the afternoon warm and pleasant, for a moment or two, Richard almost forgot about Brian. As they neared Turnery’s farmhouse, however, anxiety returned, knotting up his stomach.
Richard went through the door at a run, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste to find the letter. There it was, on the bed, where Turney had presumably left it. He sat down and read it through several times. Standing in the doorway, his arms folded, his dad waited patiently. Richard sighed. “What are we going to do, Dad?”
His dad stepped closer and
