Beneath it, he wrote only four sentences.
Michael Cole’s daughter tied Lantern’s ribbon to my bike. Sarah and Emma are losing their home at six tonight. They need help moving safely to Cedar Falls. Who can ride?
The first reply arrived in twelve seconds.
On my way.
Then another.
Bringing my truck.
I have boxes.
I can repair the trailer lights.
Lantern never left me stranded. Tell his girl we’re coming.
Daniel put the phone away before Sarah could ask what he had done.
They drove to the Cole house after lunch. It was a small white farmhouse outside town, surrounded by fields Michael had once rented to a neighboring farmer. A weathered porch stretched across the front, and several cardboard boxes sat beneath the windows.
The rented trailer waited beside Sarah’s old SUV.
One brake light was broken.
Its tires were dangerously worn.
Daniel crouched beside the nearest one.
“This trailer isn’t making it to Cedar Falls.”
“It’s the only one I could afford.”
“It may not survive the highway.”
Sarah folded her arms.
“We have to be gone by six.”
A black pickup turned onto the driveway.
Behind it came two motorcycles.
Then another truck.
Sarah looked at Daniel.
“What did you do?”
“I told the family where Emma was.”
The first rider removed his helmet.
Walter “Bear” Nolan had ridden beside Michael for most of those nine years. He was sixty-three now, with a gray beard extending across his chest and knees that complained whenever he climbed stairs. Yet he crossed the driveway faster than Daniel had seen him move in years.
Emma stood on the porch.
Bear stopped in front of her.
For a moment, neither spoke.