The twins gripped the armrests of their seats tightly.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Molly cried.
“It’s okay, Molly,” Finn said, though his own voice was quivering. “I’m sure this is some kind of joke. Or it’s a dream. I’m in pajamas, and so are you.” He glanced at Molly’s blue top and leggings. “And since we sometimes think the same things, maybe we could be having the same dream and…”
But then Finn looked out the window. He saw snow-peaked mountains and miles of winding rivers that led to a massive lake. Farther on, he saw a forest that looked like it was made up of giant Christmas trees. There were lavender and white wildflowers everywhere. A flock of small brown birds flew by the passenger side window.
“I’ve never seen birds like those in our backyard before,” Finn said.
“They’re larks,” Molly told her brother.
“You think you know everything about everything,” Finn grumbled. “Even in my dreams.”
The camper stopped with a jolt. Suddenly, it was still and quiet.
The twins weren’t sure of many things. But one thing they knew for sure: they weren’t in the driveway of 24 Birchwood Drive anymore.
For a few seconds, Molly and Finn were speechless. But PET wasn’t. “I’ll be back when your work here is done,” it said.
And then the screen went dark. All the camper doors swung wide open.
Molly pushed the POWER button. Nothing. She pushed all the other buttons. Again and again and again. Nothing happened. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
“What should we do?” Finn asked.
“I guess we go outside and figure out what our work is,” Molly said.
They walked down the camper steps and onto the dewy ground. Molly could feel her boots sinking into the wet earth.
Wait a second. Boots?!
When she’d left the house to check out the camper, she’d been wearing her fuzzy bunny slippers.
“Finn!” Molly cried. “Look at what we’re wearing!”
Finn’s eyes widened as he took in his sister’s outfit. She had on a purple-and-white gingham button-down shirt, jeans, and brown cowboy boots. Finn was in a gray-and-blue shirt and blue jeans, which were tucked into black cowboy boots. And on his head…
Finn’s hands flew to the top of his head. Phew! He had his Moonwalkers hat on.
But the rest of his outfit was still a problem.
“Those were my favorite pajamas!” Finn whined. “What happened to our stuff?”
“I don’t know,” Molly admitted.
“For once,” Finn said.
There was a siren sound from Finn’s back pocket, and he reached back to pull out something no bigger than a deck of cards.
“Oh, my baseball video game!” he exclaimed. “Thank goodness! I thought I lost this, too.” He pressed a few buttons. “It’s the seventh-inning stretch now, so I have a break. We can get started on whatever work PET was talking about.”
“You seriously need to rethink your priorities,” Molly told him.
Finn turned the game off and returned it to his pocket. Molly wrapped her arms around herself. The sky was barely light, and it was much colder than it had been back home. She wished she had her fleece jacket. But she didn’t know she would be somewhere that was so cold—in June!
“Holy guacamole, it’s cold,” Finn said, which was exactly what Molly was thinking.
The twins looked across the pasture. There was a flagpole at the far end. The flag at the top was blue-and-white-striped with a big red “C” in the center. Beyond it, the sun was coming up behind a red-roofed building. There were two old rocking chairs out front and a trail of smoke winding from a brick chimney.
“Look at that,” Molly said, pointing to a white wooden sign. “It says Snowflake Ranch Mess Hall. I guess that means we’re at the Snowflake Ranch.”
“Where’s that?” Finn asked.
“I don’t know,” Molly said again. She was used to knowing things, and she did not like not knowing two different things in the space of five minutes.
“Well,” Finn said, “I think we should go inside and find someone to help us.”
Molly felt a chill. Maybe it was the sudden gust of wind. Maybe it was the new, strange feeling of not knowing. But she was scared that something bad was about to happen.
That’s when the door to the mess hall burst open. A plump woman in an apron began clanging a big bell on the porch.
CLANG CLANG CLANG!
The woman spotted Molly and Finn across the grass. “You kids here for breakfast?”
The twins looked at each other. They were hungry. They both nodded.
“Well, come on in! The early bird catches the worm!” She motioned for the twins to follow her inside. “I’m Helen, and I made everything myself. I don’t mind saying, my food tastes so good, you’ll be mopping your plates!”
Inside was a breakfast buffet that smelled of everything delicious: pancakes, home fries, bacon, cheesy eggs, and sweet Danish.
“Is this free?” Molly asked Finn.
“I don’t see any prices,” Finn said as he piled his plate high with all his favorite breakfast foods. He and Molly sat at the end of a wooden bench. Without talking about it, the twins made a silent agreement to eat, then ask for help. After a bite of cheesy eggs, they helped themselves to more. Pretty soon the mess hall filled up.
“What do you think of my new shirt?” a man in a red flannel shirt asked the woman next to him.
“Looks great,” she told him.
“Last one in the store,” he said. “It’s my new favorite.”
“Big day ahead,” another man said. He was in a green button-down.
“Have you used the lasso yet?” asked someone else.
“Sure did,” the man in the green shirt said. “Yesterday I almost caught a calf. Soon I may even be able to rope in one of those rogue cowboys.”
“Did I hear you say something about the rogue cowboys?” a young girl asked. She sat down at the other end of Molly and Finn’s table, balancing a plate of scrambled eggs. She had corkscrew-curly hair, and she looked about a year or two older than the twins.
Molly leaned toward her brother and whispered, “ ‘Rogue’ means someone dangerous or dishonest.”
“I knew that,” Finn whispered back.
“Hey, Ella,” a woman said to the girl. “These guys think two days of lassoing makes them a match for a bunch of Colorado outlaws. What do you think?”
“My dad has worked at the Snowflake Ranch since before I was born,” Ella said. “He says the stories of rogue cowboys are nothing but tall tales.”
“Well, there you have it,” the woman said.
“I’m ready anyway,” the man in the green shirt insisted. He knocked his fist on the table, which sent an open ketchup bottle flying toward the man in the new flannel shirt!
Finn was up on his knees in a flash. He dove forward and cupped his hands like he was going for a ground ball in a baseball game. He caught the bottle, turned it right side up, and placed it back on the table. Not a drop of ketchup had spilled out.
“Nice work!” the man in flannel said.
The twins looked at each other. Did he say “work”? Could that be what PET had in mind?
“Thanks for your help,” the man said.
“It was nothing,” Finn replied.
He and Molly finished eating. They weren’t sure what to do with their empty plates, so they took them over to Helen. “Is there a sink?” Molly asked.
They had a rule at home: bring your empty plates to the sink.
Helen wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll take care of it,” she said, taking Molly’s plate and Finn’s as well.
“Can we ask you a question?” Finn asked.
“Sure thing,” Helen said. “But first I have a question for you two.”
“What’s that?” Molly said.
&
nbsp; “What are your names?” Helen asked.
“I’m Finn, and this is my sister, Molly,” Finn said.
“Nice to meet you, Finn and Molly. Your parents are still back in the cabins?”
“N—” Finn started.
But Molly interrupted him. “They’re still sleeping,” she said. It was not really a lie, because her parents were sleeping…back at home, where Molly and Finn were supposed to be.
“You’re not planning on going out on the trail without proper cowboy hats, are ya?” Helen asked.
“Um. No?” Finn gave his answer like he was asking a question.
“Good,” she said. “Head on out and make a right. It’s twenty paces to the general store. Tell Cliff that I sent you, and he’ll get you outfitted. He has the best hat selection in Colorado.”
Finn and Molly locked eyes.
Colorado?!
The twins walked back outside.
“Why did you interrupt me?” Finn asked his sister.
“Because we don’t need help anymore,” Molly replied. “You heard what the man said.”
Finn looked at Molly, not remembering.
“He said ‘Nice work,’ ” Molly reminded Finn. “That means our work here is done.”
“Oh, right.” Finn smiled. They could go home!
“The part I don’t understand,” Molly continued, “is how we can be in Colorado. It takes at least seven minutes to drive from our house to the next town over. I don’t think PET was traveling that long.”
“Maybe PET can go faster than a car,” Finn said. “Aroldis Chapman can throw a fastball over a hundred miles an hour!”
“Who’s Aroldis Chapman?” Molly asked.
“He was a pitcher for the Cincinnati Reds before he was traded to the New York Yankees,” Finn said. “Duh.”
“We’re not talking about baseball,” Molly said. “And besides, even if PET is faster than a car, there’s no way we could’ve crossed”—she paused to count in her head—“five state borders that quickly!”
“Maybe you’re wrong,” Finn said. “Maybe Colorado isn’t that far away. Maybe it’s right next to Ohio.”
“I got a hundred percent on all of our geography quizzes, remember?” Molly said. “Colorado is definitely five states from home. It’s bordered by Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma, and New Mexico.”
Finn lowered his head. “You sound like a textbook,” he muttered. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. That man said ‘Nice work.’ As soon as we find PET, we can go home. Mom and Dad will be worried if they wake up and we’re not there.”
They crossed the pasture to where they’d left the camper. But all they saw were tire tracks.
“PET!” they both called. The camper was nowhere in sight. The wind blew across the deserted field.
“Here, PET,” Finn said. “Oh, PET. Come heeeeeeeeeere!”
“Come on, camper, camper, camper!” Molly added. But it was no use.
“I’m still freezing,” Finn said. “Maybe we should go see Cliff in the general store. I could use a new jacket.”
Molly didn’t have a better idea, so they headed over to the Snowflake Ranch general store. They pulled open a heavy red door that had a cattle horn as a handle.
Inside the store, there were shelves of plaid shirts and blue jeans. There was a sales counter in the back, and behind the counter, a man was dusting rows and rows of cowboy hats.
“Excuse me,” Finn called.
The man turned around. “Well, howdy,” he said, tipping his own cowboy hat in greeting.
“Are you Cliff?” Molly asked.
“Sure am,” the man said. “I’m the owner of this here store. Have been for twenty-five years. How can I help you?”
“Helen sent us to get some hats,” Molly said.
“Yeah, and I would like a jacket, too,” Finn added.
“You two must be going on the cattle drive,” Cliff said. “Well, let me tell you something. You make sure to keep your eye on Snowflake, you hear?”
“Snowflakes!” Finn said. “You mean it’s going to be cold enough for snowflakes?”
Cliff let out a loud laugh. “Not snowflakes,” he said. “The Snowflake. They say no snowflake is the same, and that sure is true of our Snowflake. She’s a five-time blue-ribbon winner. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted the cheese made from her milk.”
“We had cheesy scrambled eggs for breakfast,” Molly said. “They were amazing.”
“The best ever,” Finn agreed.
“That’s cheese from Snowflake all right,” Cliff said. “Those executives from EZ Cheezy have been trying to get their hands on her for years. They want to hook her up to machines and milk her dry. But we’re not sellin’. She makes just enough for those of us at the ranch to enjoy. She deserves to roam free in the mountains, not be living in some factory.”
“Ah, I get it,” Molly said. “Snowflake is a cow!”
“That’s right,” Cliff said. “Our pride and joy.” He gestured to the T-shirts, mugs, and bumper stickers in the display case under the counter. Everything had a picture of a white cow on it. “She’s the most famous cow in all of Colorado.”
“She looks nice,” Finn said. As far as he was concerned, cows weren’t mean or nice. They were just cows. But he could tell Snowflake meant a lot to Cliff.
“That she is,” he said. “Now, let’s get on with things here.”
He stepped out from behind the counter and grabbed a couple of dark-blue jean jackets from a rack. “I think these should fit.”
“Thanks,” Finn said.
“Wait,” said Molly. “Do we need to pay for these? We didn’t bring any money.”
“If you’re going on the cattle drive, it’s all included,” Cliff said. “So let’s talk hats. You’re going to have to pick your own. Every rancher should pick out his—or her—own hat.”
Cliff’s arms swept toward the rows of cowboy hats in all different colors and sizes.
Molly gasped when she spotted one that matched her friendship bracelet: a blue straw hat with a purple band around the rim. “That one,” she said. “Definitely.”
But Finn wasn’t sure. He tried on a straw hat, a felt hat, a wide-brim hat, a ten-gallon hat. Nothing felt quite right. His worn Moonwalkers cap was like a part of his head, and he didn’t want to give it up. “I think I’ll hold on to my own hat,” he finally decided.
“No shame in that,” Cliff said. “Here are some snacks for your pack. It’s gonna be a long day.”
Cliff handed them a paper bag filled with beef jerky, red and black licorice twists, and two ice-cold bottles of water.
“You don’t want to be late!” Cliff said. And with that, he pushed them out the door.
“Do you think our work isn’t done yet?” Finn asked.
“I don’t know,” Molly said. There were those words again! I don’t know. They tasted bad every time she had to say them.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Finn said, “but I actually like it better when you do know things.”
“Me too,” Molly said.
“We should ask the next person we see to help us,” Finn said.
“I was thinking about that,” Molly said. “We could get in trouble if we tell someone what happened. We’re not allowed to cross the street, and now we’ve crossed state lines!”
“But it’s not our fault we’re here!” Finn said. “We got into the camper, it started talking, and boom! We’re in Colorado.”
“Yeah, I know,” Molly said. “But do you think Mom or Dad will believe we traveled hundreds of miles, by ourselves, in a magic camper? Besides, we weren’t supposed to be in the camper at all.”
“Good point,” Finn said.
Across the field, Helen stepped in front of a big red barn and motioned for the kids to hurry. “C’mon over!” Helen called. “Y’all are the last to saddle up!”
Molly looked at her brother. “What should we do?”
“I guess we should saddle up,” he said.
Molly and Finn ran across the tall grass. Helen slid open the barn door, and they followed her down a long, wide hall. There were horse stalls on either side.
Finn sniffed the air. “It smells like a candy shop in here,” he said.
“That’s sweet feed,” Helen told him. “A mix of oats and molasses. It’s what the residents prefer to eat.”
Neigh!
Molly and Finn both jumped in surprise. Helen unlatched a stall door. Inside, there was a big brown horse with speckles of white that looked like paint splotches.
“That’s all right, boy,” Helen said. She led the horse out into the hall, where the twins were waiting. “Finn, this is Rocket. Rocket, this is Finn.”
“Nice to meet you,” Finn said.
The horse snorted in reply.
Helen pulled sugar cubes out of her pocket and handed some to Finn. “No thanks,” Finn said. “We just ate.”
Helen laughed. “They’re not for you,” she said. “They’re for Rocket. Go on, hold them flat in your palm and feed him. He’ll want to be your new best friend.”
Finn had never had a horse for a best friend before. Rocket stomped a front hoof and neighed again, baring his teeth. Monster-sized teeth. Teeth that didn’t look like they were waiting for something as small as a sugar cube. They looked like they were waiting for something bigger…like the hand of an eight-year-old boy!
Finn stepped back, and back, and back, until he was up against the stall door. Rocket moved toward him. Finn could hear his heart banging in his chest. In one swift chomp, Rocket scooped the sugar cubes from Finn’s shaking hand. The horse’s lips brushed against his palm. “Wow,” Finn said. “I can’t believe it. I fed a horse!”
“Good job!” Helen said. “Now, Molly, let me introduce you to Dasha.”
In the next stall was a black horse with a black mane. Molly held out a sugar cube on her palm. She giggled when Dasha’s lips tickled her hand.
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