“Seriously, Dyl, we’re never going to find him.” Jaxon spoke Dylan’s worst fear out loud. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
Dylan had never felt worse. Brave was gone, and there was no way to track him. Unless . . . Dylan buried his face in his hands. There was one person who might be able to find Brave. But it would take one huge apology, and even that might not be enough.
“I have an idea,” Dylan said to Jaxon. “It’s not a very good one, but it’s better than nothing.”
Jaxon looked annoyed, but he bit his lip. “What is it?”
“I think Grace can help us.”
“For real?” Jaxon looked skeptical. “Her? How exactly can she help you that I can’t?”
“She’s actually pretty cool,” Dylan said. “And she’s amazing with animals—Brave really trusts her. Plus . . .” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “She’s my friend, Jaxon.”
With just a slight shake of his head, Jaxon hopped onto his bike. “Lead the way.”
* * *
It was late afternoon by the time Dylan skidded through the iron gate of the Garcia Ranch. He steered around a tractor moving at a snail’s pace down the main road. The ranch hand in the driver’s seat waved at Dylan as he passed, but Dylan was too focused on reaching Grace to notice.
He found her in the corral, running Rey through a warmup.
“Grace!” Dylan called.
He couldn’t tell if she heard him or not, but she rode in the opposite direction and over to the far end of the ring without even looking at Dylan.
Dylan hopped off his bike and ran to the fence. He put one foot on the bottom rail and stood up on it. “Grace!” he shouted again. This time she couldn’t ignore him. She walked Rey back slowly and pulled in the reins, stopping a few feet from Dylan. Jaxon rode up behind Dylan, and Grace narrowed her eyes in his direction.
“Is this some kind of joke?” she asked coolly. She trained her eyes on the horizon over their heads.
“No—” Dylan’s voice cracked and he stopped to take a breath. “Grace, I’m really sorry about today at school—about the hat.”
She didn’t speak but waited for him to continue.
“It’s Brave,” Dylan said. “He’s gone.”
Grace’s eyes snapped to Dylan’s. “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”
“I mean we were out in the hills—” Dylan jerked a thumb toward Jaxon. “And we—he—there were fireworks—”
“Fireworks?” she interrupted him.
“Yes.” Dylan was ashamed to admit it, but he couldn’t lie to Grace. She shook her head in disbelief. “And Brave got spooked and took off,” he went on. “I looked for him for so long but I couldn’t find him and he wouldn’t come back . . .” Dylan trailed off. “I thought he would be okay.”
“You pushed him too far,” Grace said, her voice stern. “Fireworks are too much for him—they’re like a hundred times worse than other noises!”
Dylan hung his head. “I know. It’s all my fault. But I really need your help, Grace—please. I need help finding him.”
“Dylan, we worked so hard all this time—Brave worked so hard. How could you do this?”
He didn’t answer. There was nothing to say.
“So, uh, can you help us or not, Grace?” Jaxon called out from behind Dylan. “ ’Cause if not, I’m going to head home.”
So much for being helpful, Dylan thought as he shot a look at his friend. The more Jaxon acted like that, the less likely Grace was going to help them.
“Sorry.” Jaxon held up his hands and shook his head. “Just saying.”
Grace glared at Jaxon, then turned her steely gaze on Dylan. “Fine.”
Dylan held his breath. “Fine?”
“I’ll help you,” she said with a frustrated sigh. She hopped down off Rey and led him by the reins toward the barn. “But I’m doing this for Brave. Not for you.”
“Thank you—I’ll make it up to you,” Dylan said. “Whatever it takes. I just—I just want everything to be okay again.” Struggling to balance his old friend, his new friend, and the dog he had come to love, Dylan had never meant anything more in his life.
★ Chapter 20 ★
* * *
* * *
Dylan filled three water bottles and stuffed them into the backpack. Grace tossed him a bag of beef jerky, six granola bars, and a plastic baggie of kibble, which he dropped in too.
Jaxon stood awkwardly by the front door, looking around Grace’s home like he wasn’t quite sure how he had ended up there.
Mustang sniffed around Dylan’s feet, then made her way over to Grace. She whimpered and pawed at Grace’s leg.
“You’re staying here,” Grace said. “Sorry, girl. But I have no idea where we’re going to end up, and I don’t want you out there—especially if it gets dark.” She checked the time on her phone, then looked out the window and up at the sky. “We need to get going,” she said.
“I’m ready,” Dylan said, zipping up the pack and swinging it onto his shoulder.
“Me too,” Grace said. She and Dylan looked over at Jaxon.
“Ready,” he said, raising an eyebrow. Dylan couldn’t read Jaxon’s tone—was he being sarcastic? He didn’t seem like he really wanted to help, but if he didn’t, then why was he still there? Why was he coming with them? There was no time to figure it out, though—they had to go.
Dylan and Jaxon got on their bikes, and Dylan was surprised to see Grace rolling hers out of the garage.
“You’re taking your bike?” he asked her.
She rolled her eyes at him. “What—you think the Ranch Kids can only ride horses or something?”
Dylan gulped. So she did know what he and Jaxon and the others called them. “No . . . sorry . . . I didn’t mean—” he stammered.
“Trust me, I’d be much faster on Rey than on a bike.” Grace shot Dylan a pointed look. “But if Brave is really freaked out, then he’s taken a big step back in his training and the horse might scare him off. And that’s exactly what we don’t want.”
“Right.”
It occurred to Dylan then that there was something so different about Grace. She wasn’t like other kids their age—she saw things much more clearly. It was almost as if she was always thinking two or three steps ahead, while he was barely keeping up with whatever was happening right then.
He was so grateful she had agreed to come find Brave, even if he didn’t completely deserve her help.
* * *
They rode quickly through the afternoon sunlight, returning to the spot in the hills where splatters of watermelon still stained the dirt. The three of them stood side by side, scanning the horizon for signs of Brave. The air was so humid it felt like they could touch it.
“Have you been here before?” Grace asked Jaxon.
“All the time,” he said. He shot Dylan a sideways glance. “What?” Jaxon asked defensively. “Sure, I come here to do stuff sometimes.”
“Like blow up watermelons with fireworks?” Dylan asked.
“Yeah, so what?”
“So what?” Dylan’s jaw dropped open. “It’s dangerous, that’s what.”
“Guys—” Grace held up a hand. “Can you work that out later?”
“Sorry,” Dylan said.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Grace said to Jaxon. “You know this area pretty well?”
Dylan thought he knew where Grace was going with this. “Is there any place you can think of where Brave might hide?”
Jaxon pointed toward a cluster of boulders about a half-mile off to the right. “That’s a great hiding spot. Lots of room under the rocks. Even a cave or two.”
Dylan turned to Jaxon. “Why didn’t you tell me that before? We could have searched there earlier!”
“I don’t know—you didn’t ask, I guess,” Jaxon shot back. “Dylan, why are you acting like this is all my fault? I didn’t bring the dog out here in the first place—you did!”
“No, but you—”
“Guys
!” Grace shouted. “Enough.”
Dylan clenched his jaw. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s go.”
Dylan took the lead as they biked across the rough terrain, following a bumpy trail that got rockier the farther they went. When they reached the pyramid of rocks, stacked twice as tall as Dylan and as wide as an eighteen-wheeler, they threw their bikes to the ground and clambered up the side. They peered around, behind, and between the boulders.
“Brave!” Dylan called.
“Brave . . . here, boy!” Grace shouted. “Brave!”
There was no sign of the dog. Dylan kicked the dirt in frustration, sending a spray of pebbles flying.
“Let’s keep going,” Grace said. She looked up at the sky uncertainly. A thick layer of clouds had slid into place above them and begun to block the sun.
“Can we hurry?” Jaxon said. “My parents are going to start wondering where I am soon.”
Dylan ignored him. He knew his mom would be wondering the same thing, but he was too focused on finding Brave to worry about it. He hoped she’d understand—and promised himself he’d text her as soon as they got back into range of service.
They pushed along. The ground got bumpier, strewn with more and bigger rocks, until the trail petered out completely. The vegetation around them thickened and pressed in on them as they headed down a slope toward a dry creek bed. They were covered in dust, which turned to muddy sweat in the humidity, and cactus prickles stuck to their pants.
It was getting harder to ride their bikes without a clear path. Dylan swerved to avoid a rock as big as a toaster and slammed his front tire into a slightly smaller one. He ditched the bike just in time to avoid flying over the handlebars, but his bike landed with a hard thud.
“I think we have to leave our bikes here, guys,” Grace said, pulling to a short stop behind him. “There’s no more trail this far out.”
Dylan couldn’t argue with her, but it was hard going. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s keep moving on foot.”
They propped their bikes against a huge flat rock in the center of the creek bed. At least they’d have a good landmark on the way back home.
They trekked on for what felt like miles. Every few steps, Dylan stopped shouting Brave’s name and listened carefully for the faintest sound of a whimper or a bark. But there was nothing—not even the rustling of leaves or the scuttling of a rodent. Just as Dylan realized that it was weirdly still and quiet, like it usually was right before a storm, he felt the first drop of rain land on his arm.
“Oh, dude—” Jaxon groaned. “Seriously?”
Dylan couldn’t have agreed more, but he knew his reasons were different from Jaxon’s. Jaxon just didn’t want to get wet, but Dylan didn’t care about that. He didn’t mind getting soaked if it would help him find his dog—but he was worried that the weather would only make it harder for them to find Brave. If the dog was hiding, he might not want to come out in the rain, or he might not hear them over the sound of it.
He just hoped there wasn’t thunder.
Dylan turned his face to the darkening sky right as it opened up and the humidity broke, dropping a deluge of raindrops that pelted him on the face and arms, hard. His skin stung, and within seconds all three of them were fully soaked. It was a true Texas rainstorm, which meant it was possible it could be over in a few minutes—or go on for hours. With their luck, Dylan figured it might continue all evening. He hoped Brave had managed to find shelter, at least.
Dylan looked over at Grace, who held a hand above her eyes to shield them from the water. They caught each other’s gaze, and as they did, a crack of lightning lit up the sky. Then, a few seconds later, the air began to rumble and shake all around them, the sound rising and rolling until it transformed into an angry clap of thunder. It was so loud they both jumped, and Dylan felt his eardrums vibrating.
Dylan and Grace didn’t need to speak to know what the other one was thinking.
Thunder was bad. The sound of it would terrify Brave. And the more scared he was, the harder it would be to find him.
“This is bad,” Dylan said, nearly shouting to be heard over the rain.
“It’s not good,” Grace replied.
Another flash of lightning lit up the sky so brightly that it burned his eyes, and he squeezed them shut. Seconds passed with just the sound of the pounding rain, and then a crash of thunder shook the sky again.
Dylan pointed back toward the rocks they had just searched. Grace nodded and gestured at Jaxon to follow them. The three of them dashed across the soaked land. The water was coming down too fast for the ground to absorb it, and puddles had sprung up everywhere. They reached the rock formation and huddled in a small alcove formed by two leaning boulders, which didn’t entirely block the rain but offered some cover.
Dylan could feel the water dripping inside his clothes. He tried to wipe his face on his sleeve but only succeeded in smearing water around. Dylan shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut—all he wanted to do was find Brave, but instead it felt like he was losing him even more. “This is the worst!” he exclaimed, punching his fist into his palm.
“I’m sorry, Dylan,” Grace said. “I know this is tough, but we’re going to find Brave.”
“Wrong,” Jaxon said. Dylan’s and Grace’s heads both shot toward him, their mouths agape. “You know what this is?” Jaxon went on, his face screwed up into a scowl. “It’s pointless. I mean, we’re never going to find your dog. It’s gone. There’s absolutely no point in us staying out here in the rain, dude—let’s just get out of here.”
Anger and frustration rose up in Dylan like a tidal wave. He had thought Jaxon was on his side, but he was wrong. Jaxon wasn’t on anyone’s side but his own. Dylan had tried to be patient with him. Time after time, he’d tried to do what his friend wanted to do—even when it was the last thing Dylan wanted. He’d tried to be what his friend wanted him to be. But he couldn’t fake it anymore. Dylan clenched his fists and took a deep breath, waiting until his anger subsided enough for him to speak without yelling.
Dylan opened his mouth, but no words came out at first. Then he found his voice.
“You know what, Jaxon?” Dylan said. “You’re being so mean.”
“Excuse me?” Jaxon’s eyebrows shot straight up his forehead.
“First of all,” Dylan went on, “Brave is a he, not an it. And second of all, you could at least pretend to care that my dog is gone. That’s what a real friend would do.”
“I am your real friend,” Jaxon sputtered. “Why else would I be out here?”
“I don’t know,” Dylan said. “Why are you really here?”
Grace looked from one boy to the other, holding her breath.
Jaxon held up both hands. “To help you.”
“I don’t believe you,” Dylan said. “Tell me the truth.”
Jaxon looked at the ground, then the rain, then the rocks over Dylan’s shoulder. Dylan let him squirm and waited for him to speak.
“Fine,” Jaxon said. “I’m here because you need help. Aaaand . . .” He paused. “If I help you, maybe you won’t tell my parents about the fireworks. That’s all. A little trade, basically.”
Dylan shook his head in disbelief. “I knew it.”
“It’s just a dog,” Jaxon said dismissively. “He’ll turn up.”
“But he’s my dog. Doesn’t that mean anything?” Dylan couldn’t believe this was his oldest friend—the one who had been there in the outfield next to him at their first Little League game. Who had eaten lunch with him every day for all of elementary school. And who had wandered the halls with him on the first day of middle school, looking as nervous and overwhelmed by the huge building as Dylan was. But that was Jaxon then. This was who Jaxon was now.
“It means that I don’t get it, Dyl,” Jaxon said. “I don’t get why this is such a big deal. The dog is a stray—it’ll find its way back.”
“Brave,” Dylan said. “His name is Brave. And honestly, he’s a way better friend than you are.”
“Look,” Jaxon said. “I get that you’re upset about the d—Brave. And I’m sorry he’s gone. But can you not be mad at me because he ran away? It’s not my fault.”
As angry as he was, Dylan knew Jaxon was right. It wasn’t Jaxon’s fault that Brave was spooked by loud noises, and it wasn’t even his fault that he’d been the one to light the fireworks. Dylan didn’t have to come out to the hills with Jaxon. Dylan didn’t have to bring Brave. And Dylan didn’t have to tie the dog to a tree instead of holding him securely.
But Dylan was out here trying to help Brave—and fix all of his own mistakes. Jaxon was out here so that Dylan wouldn’t get him in trouble. Not because he actually cared.
And for Dylan, that wasn’t enough. If Jaxon wasn’t there to help him for real, then Dylan didn’t want him there at all. He’d had it with the way Jaxon had been acting for days . . . weeks . . . months, even. He had turned into a person that Dylan barely recognized, and just because the other guys let him get away with it didn’t mean Dylan had to. Plus, he realized in that moment, no one else would ever have the guts to stand up to Jaxon—it had to be him. Otherwise Jaxon would never stop being this way.
Dylan was done.
“You used to be a good guy, Jaxon,” Dylan said, keeping his voice steady. “But now you’re just not. And you’re a bad friend.”
Jaxon’s jaw fell open. He stared at Dylan for a long moment, as if he was wasn’t sure what he’d really heard. Then he snapped his mouth shut, narrowed his eyes, and scrambled out from under the rocks. He slipped in the mud, but caught himself.
“I’m going home,” Jaxon said.
Without a glance back at Dylan, he stomped off through the driving rain.
★ Chapter 21 ★
* * *
* * *
Dylan swallowed hard and looked down at the ground. He felt a sharp pain in his hands and realized he’d been clenching his fists and digging his fingernails into his palms. He stretched out his fingers. Grace seemed to sense that he needed a second and didn’t speak right away.
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