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Emily put everything back into the box, glad to replace the lid and return it to the cupboard.

—

The next day was to be the rainmaker’s demonstration, organized by the men who’d raised the money, to impress the townsfolk and show them that their precious dollars were being well spent.

Henry had gone ahead into town to help organize things.

Adelaide had taken herself off for a quick test run in the Jenny.

Emily was restless and anxious, not least because a reply had arrived from Nell.

She opened the envelope and unfolded a single page of writing paper.

Dearest Emily,

I’m so sorry to hear how bad things are there. We hear reports on the wireless about the awful dust storms. It must be terrible for you all.

Dorothy will be well looked after here with us, and far safer by the sound of it. She can return to you when things improve.

Maybe you and Henry will reconsider and come with her? I hate to think of you suffering and struggling.

Let me know, and we can make the necessary arrangements.

Your dear sister,

Nell

“Is it time to go yet?”

Emily jumped, startled by Dorothy’s sudden appearance. The child couldn’t wait to see the rainmaker’s explosives.

She pushed the letter into her pocket. “Not yet, dear. Uncle Henry will come back when everything is arranged. Why don’t you take the wildflowers from the flower press. Try and draw them.”

With the child occupied, she put Nell’s letter into the dresser drawer and went out to the barn to feed the animals.

So much seemed to hinge on the outcome of the next few days and whether the rainmaker would succeed.

As Emily looked out at the great expanse of decaying prairie, she confronted the question that she and Henry had been steadfastly avoiding.

Not whether they had the courage to stay and see this through, but—if things didn’t go the way they hoped—did they have the courage to leave?

All she knew for certain was that she couldn’t bear to send Dorothy away. Not to Nell. Not to anyone.

As she turned to pick up the spade, she noticed a scruffy pair of boots sticking out from behind the tractor, striped socks tucked into the bottom of each pant leg.

She held her breath, heart thumping.

They’d had plenty of hobos passing through since the stock market crash, and more in recent months as farms foreclosed and exhausted, broken men looked for somewhere to shelter for the night as they headed west. She’d heard of farms being ransacked and wasn’t prepared to take any chances.

She crept out of the barn and hurried back to the house, where she took Henry’s rifle from the wall.

Dorothy looked up from her sketching. “Oh, please don’t shoot the old mare, Auntie Em! Uncle Henry said she won’t be long for this earth and he might need to put her out of her misery.”

“I’m not shooting the mare, Dorothy. Just saw a snake, is all. You stay inside with Toto. Don’t come out until I say.”

Could she shoot a horse to put it out of its misery, let alone shoot a man to protect herself and her home? She’d only ever shot a cow they’d found, half-dead with the dust fever. But a man was an entirely different proposition.

Arms shaking, she approached the barn. Aside from the rifle, surprise was her best weapon. Her heart thumped in her chest as she stepped through the barn door.

She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, then crept past the horses, praying they wouldn’t whinny at her.

She inched forward, making her way toward the back of the barn until she could just make out the shape of a man asleep in the straw, a broad-brimmed hat pulled over his face.

She cocked the rifle and pointed it at him. “What do you want here?” She kept her voice low and steady, masking the fear that sent her heart racing.

He sat up, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t shoot. I only sleep. I bring no danger.”

Emily faltered a second. His accent was strange. Was he drunk? “Why are you in my barn?” She held the rifle dead straight, not entirely sure which part of him she was aiming at. It was hard to see in the dim light. “My husband will be back from the fields any moment.”

The man began to get to his feet. “I am sorry for the trouble. I…”

“Stay where you are, or I’ll shoot you.” Emily kept her rifle trained on him.

Behind her, the barn door opened. Daylight flooded inside, illuminating the interior.

Emily didn’t move, didn’t take her eyes off him for a second as Toto ran forward, growling and snarling as he made a grab for the man’s ankles.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Go back to the house, Dorothy. There’s no need to worry. I’ll be right there.”

Emily called Toto to her as the man stood up.

“Please. I do not hurt you,” he said. “You misunderstand. I am the rainmaker. I come to bring the rain. Miss Watson tells me I can rest here until she returns.”

“Miss Watson? But…” Of course! Adelaide had mentioned that the rainmaker would come to their barn.

Emily lowered the rifle and applied the safety as the man stepped out of the shadows behind the tractor. He was now clearly visible.

Emily’s heart thundered. Her mind raced. Her breath was knocked clean from her lungs, as if she’d been winded.

Courage leached from her as she stared at the face looking back at her, and the years tumbled and turned as her past collided with her present, and the moment she’d so often feared in her imagination became a terrible reality.

The man looking back at her was the Amazing Aerialist.

The love of Annie’s life.

Dorothy’s father.

He reached out a hand as a familiar smile curved at his lips. “Buongiorno, Miss Emily. It has been a very long time.”

Emily squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and tried to keep her voice steady. “I think we should go inside.”

As she spoke, Dorothy appeared at her side.

The child’s face filled with surprise. “Mr.Stregone! Whatever are you doing here?”