“No! She couldn’t go on. She had to go back, no matter what. Stop! Oh stop! Sarah Pearl wanted to yell to that boy driving the wagon. You know I can manage by myself, even with Papa dead, she wanted to shout to his mother, that awful Widow Kerber.

But she only choked from the thick dust rising behind the wheels of the wagon and dust stung her eyes. Yes, for sure it was only dust. She wasn’t about to break down crying. Not in front of any of the Kerbers. Especially that boy, Tom sitting next to her in the back of the wagon. She knew he’d been put there to guard her from running back home.

Looking at the trail disappearing behind her, it was harder and harder to see anything at all. There was so much dust, not only rising up from the trail, but also settling thickly on the brush alongside. Above her were dark stands of over-hanging pine branches. Over in the distance the bright silver flash of a lake. But everything around her was becoming more and more unfamiliar. She had never been this far this side of Four Corners and already felt lost .. But now, out of all those sounds, Sarah Pearl heard her own name. Puur—ul! See—eek – Puurr—uul … come … Pearl! Papa’s pet name for her, his ghost calling her! Who else knew it besides Papa?”

Excerpted from Wagon Trail to Nowhere © Copyright 2012 by Laurel Means. Reprinted with permission by North Star Press of St. Cloud, Inc.. All rights reserved.