mom finding me like this and I came back to earth.
âOne of the Delanysâ horses got stuck in a swamp and we helped get it out,â Zach said.
Mrs. Minton raised an eyebrow. âYou want to tell me what really happened, Wesley?â
There was no point lying. Like I said, Iâm a terrible liar. I told her about everythingâthe supposedly empty field, the rail fence, the motocross hill and the rescue of the stuck horse.
She didnât say anything for a moment, but the corners of her mouth were twitching as she said, âAnd I suppose youâve come here hoping Iâll have mercy on you and help clean you up to escape your parentsâ wrath?â
âWe didnât mean to do anything wrong,â I said.
âAnd we were doing our best to get the horses out of there,â Zach said.
âAnd we offered to fix their fence,â I added.
âAnd if we had seen or heard any animals in the field, we never would haveââ
Zach was cut off by Mrs. Minton holding up her hands in surrender. âAll right, boys. Youâre lucky my washing machine is only half full. I was waiting until after I finished changing the oil on my Mustang to wash my dirty clothes.â
âThanks, Mrs. Minton,â I said.
Mrs. Minton shook her head as she let us in. âYou are so like you father, Wesley.â
âMy father?â
âHe sure was one for getting into scrapes when he was little.â
I couldnât believe it. Mr. âHighest Respect in the Countyâ got into scrapes?
âBut he was the most decorated fire chief in the regionâs history,â Zach said.
Mrs. Minton nodded. âHe grew into a man of courage and integrity.â She smiled at me as she handed me an afghan and the moose slippers. âWhich is why I still hold out hope for you, Wesley.â She laughed a little as I waddled into the bathroom to get out of my muddy clothes.
I couldnât even imagine that Iâd ever be as brave, calm and strong as my dad. âI wouldnât even know where to begin,â I mumbled.
Mrs. Minton smiled a broad, warm smile. âYes, you would.â
Chapter 4
My only consolation that day was that Zach could never again make fun of me for the afghan/mooseslipper thing. Not when he was wrapped in a quilt that had bonneted dolls in every square and his feet were covered in hand-knit lime green socks. I almost choked on my cookie when I saw him waddle out of the bathroom.
âWhat are these, anyway?â I asked Mrs. Minton, biting into the hard, crunchy cookie.
âBiscotti. Theyâre Italian and very good for dunking.â She took hers and plunked it into her mug.
Zach and I dunked ours into our hot chocolate. She was right. The hot liquid made them soft and delicious.
âSo,â I said, almost afraid to ask, âare you going to tell our moms?â
Mrs. Minton looked thoughtful. âWell, I canât get one of you into trouble without getting the other one in it too. And Iâm not too fond of the idea of bothering your mother with this, Wesley.â She put her coffee down and looked across the room at a picture of a young man in army uniform. I was pretty sure it was Mr. Minton.
âThe first couple of years after a woman loses her husband are very hard. Your mother certainly doesnât need any extra worries right now.â She looked back at me. âBut honestly, Wesley, you need to tone it down a bit. My hip surgery has been moved up to the week after next, so Iâll be out of commission for a while. I wonât be able to rescue you for at least a couple of months.â
I nodded, but Mrs. Mintonâs face clouded over.
âItâll be good to have the surgery over with, wonât it?â Zach asked, seeing her face.
âOh yes, but I was planning on going to Chile to watch Rachelâs race. I had my ticket and everything. The surgery was originally scheduled for after I got