The cowboys showed the boys how to slap their ropes gently against their thighs to get the cows moving together so they could take them to their summer grazing grounds. Most of the cattle were branded with SRR, for Joe’s Silver River Ranch, though there were many yearlings without a brand. And just when she’d thought everything would dry out, it started raining again. She felt sorry for all the horses. They were slogging through the muddy mess, yet it didn’t seem to bother them, or so she thought. Maybe they hated it as much as she did. Over the slopping of the mud and the splattering of the rain, Maggie thought she heard a noise, almost like the loud crying of a baby. “Whoa, Lady. Whoa.” The horse stopped, and she strained to listen. There it was again. Looking around, it didn’t seem that anyone else had heard the pitiful cry. “Joe!” she yelled, because he was the closest cowboy to her, but he didn’t hear her. “Joe!” she yelled again. But the wagon train went on without her.
