Free Racing Home by Adele Dueck Page A

the man who owns these horses?”
    “Ja, I work for Pete some. I was tired of driving to Hanley and back.”
    Erik stared at Olaf. Tired of driving to Hanley? Erik was tired of working, too, but he didn’t have a choice. What would Ma say if he told her he hated cutting grass?
    “We best be gettin’ back,” said Jim. He lit his cigarette, then snuffed the burning match between his thumb and index finger. Turning his horse around, he dropped the dead match at Erik’s feet.
    As Olaf followed Jim across the prairie, Erik recalled the cowboys he’d seen in Hanley. One had been older, with a dark, drooping moustache. And the other? He’d had a wispy, brown beard, Erik remembered, and the older man had called him Jim. If he shaved off that beard, he’d look just like the man with Olaf.

CHAPT ER TEN
    Sold!
    Throughout the night before the Green Valley land sale, rain drummed against the tent. Erik dreamed he was swimming and woke to find his feet in a puddle of water. After piling his bedding in the centre of the tent, he ran to get the milk pail, dodging raindrops all the way.
    Erik’s mother and Rolf were at the table when he brought the milk into the house. Erik filled the water pail from the barrel outside the door, then came back in, shaking rain from his hair. His mother handed him a towel, then poured him a cup of coffee.
    “You better eat,” she said. “Lars will be picking you up soon.”
    “I want to go, too,” said Elsa.
    She was curled up on a straw-stuffed mattress, watching them.
    “Ah, you wouldn’t be any help,” said Erik. “Uncle Lars needs someone who can pile lumber.”
    “It’s raining outside,” Inga reminded Elsa, shaking her head. As she spoke a drop of water dripped from the roof onto the table. Erik glanced up and saw another drop hanging on the edge of the tarpaper, ready to fall. Inga set a bowl to catch the drips. The sod roof always leaked when it rained for more than a couple of hours.
    “I’m sorry for the men sleeping in tents at the townsite,” said Rolf.
    “I slept in a tent last night,” Erik reminded him. Trust Rolf to sympathize with strangers rather than his own stepson.
    “Were you cold?” asked Elsa. “Did you get wet?”
    “Rain came in at the edges.”
    “Bring your bedding in here to stay dry,” suggested his mother.
    Erik glanced at the pool of muddy water accumulating in the dish. “It’ll be all right.”
    “I’m coming to the townsite later,” said Rolf. “Lars asked me to help him for a few days.” He chewed thoughtfully on a piece of bread. “Then I’ll look for work in town. I expect it will pay better than stooking.”
    Rolf had stooked for a neighbour for a few days, but instead of cash he’d been paid a roll of barbed wire and two sacks of oats.
    Someone pounded on the door. It flew open and Lars and Kirsten stepped inside.
    “They’re moving my house,” said Kirsten with a laugh. “Hope you don’t mind if I spend the day with you.”
    “Of course not,” said Inga. She hurried over to take Kirsten’s wet coat and hat.
    “You ready to go, Erik?” asked Lars. “Olaf has the wagon loaded with lumber and is already on his way to the townsite. As soon as we buy a lot, we’ll unload it and go back for more.”
    “You’re moving the building today?” Erik asked.
    “Ja! I’ve got Rolf and another fellow lined up for that.”
    “Is it going to be a store now, Uncle Lars?” asked Elsa.
    “That it is. I spent the last few days getting it ready.”
    “My kitchen has become a long sales counter,” said Kirsten. “I tell Lars he has to build a house for me soon. I can only live in a store for so long!”
    Erik pulled on his thick jacket and peaked hat and stepped out into the rain. He needed a wide hat like the cowboys wore, he decided, to keep the rain off better. The horses stamped their feet impatiently. Erik greeted them both, then climbed into the buggy and picked up the reins.
    When Lars joined Erik, he took the reins with