* * * *
Neither Pa nor I felt Matthew would be rash enough to call out Raven at the fort, but Ma was adamant. We had to go find him. Just before we rode out of the yard, Pa’s sharp eyes spied a pigeon heading for the loft. I scrambled up the ladder and recovered a scrap of paper from the leather sheath strapped to one of the bird’s legs.
At farm helping Maartens bros
build cabin. Need time. Matthew.
Weak-kneed with relief, I scooted down the ladder and headed to my cabin for pencil and paper. On the way I thrust the message into Ma’s hand. A few minutes later, I sent two gray birds on their way to Turtle Crick Farm. Then I went to talk to Ma and Pa.
“I sent a message saying I’m on my way. I need to go check on how the Maartens are coming along on the cabin, anyway. Don’t see a need fo
