Only, it wasn’t a lark, according to Mikki, when they came to find out what was keeping me. The bird singing its heart out from the roof of the Copper Kettle’s stables was too tiny for the glorious song that filled the stableyard. I had to watch its beak to make sure I had the right warbler.

We were still harnessed up and on our way long before Rob would be opening up at school. A shadow overhung the thought of Rob, but I rememb...