"Megan," a voice whispered in the breeze.

She stepped outside the rustic log house looking for the person who had called her name. After walking the perimeter of the house, Megan returned to the front porch, her shoulders slumped. "I know I heard my name. Where is the person who called it?" she said to the mid-morning sky.

When there was no reply she leaned her long body against the porch rail and stared out over the ranch. Horses grazed in open fields; high mountains bordered the ranch and called to her with their stories and songs. Where was the voice that had muttered her name? Who did it belong to? She closed her eyes and in the breeze she heard her name again. The voice sounded familiar, yet she could not put a name to it. A few minutes passed, but the voice had vanished with the breeze. When she opened her eyes all she saw were the six, young campers thundering across the porch like a herd of wild horses racing towards a watering hole. The enthusiasm in their voices brought a song to Megan's heart. Yes, this would be a fun and adventurous summer. As to the voice that came with the wind, Megan decided to forget it for now.

She followed Jason off of the porch and talked with him for a minute. His animated voice and the shimmer in his green eyes showed how excited he was to be back. Mike and Christa had returned and with them were some new campers who Megan was anxious to meet and spend time with. Since everyone headed to the cabins to settle in, Megan meandered to the cottonwood tree. Its diamond-shaped green leaves shimmered in the slight breeze and drew her towards it. This was the voice that had called her earlier. She pushed that aside upon seeing Gray Cloud standing beside the tree, his head hung and his shoulders hunched.

Her pace quieted and slowed as her heart held an ache for her friend. He stared at the thick, deeply fissured bark as if it held answers. She waited for the right moment to approach him. He turned his head and said, "Good morning."

"Hi," Megan said, now standing beside the old man with chestnut-colored skin that was wrinkled from age and weather. His white hair fell in a single braid down the middle of his back.

"I know the future cowboys and cowgirls are here and you have many wonderful events planned for them, but do you have a few minutes for an old friend?" His voice lacked its usual lyricism. The black eyes that once sparkled now appeared lackluster.




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