one of the molded plastic seats in the Denver airport terminal, Jack found the sports section of that day’s Denver Post. Since someone had left it behind, he supposed it was OK for him to pick it up and read it. That evening the Utah Jazz—Jack’s favorite team—would be in the NBA play-offs. Jack read the predictions about who would win, including the Las Vegas odds: four to three, favoring the Jazz in the series.
If gambling odds could be printed in the paper, Jack thought, trying to convince himself, it probably wasn’t so bad that Lucky had played the slot machine. Just that once, when she was little and probably didn’t know any better. Especially since she didn’t have a mother to keep an eye on her.
He checked his watch. They’d be boarding in about twenty minutes, getting onto the smaller plane that would fly them from Denver to Durango. He looked around for his family. His father was watching the news on the television monitor mounted just beneath the ceiling.
His mother was walking toward a bank of pay phones.
Curious, because maybe she was going to call Ms. Lopez about Lucky, Jack made his way toward the phones, sidestepping through throngs of travelers in the busy airport. For a few minutes they kept him from seeing his mother. When he caught sight of her, she was punching numbers into the telephone keypad. Lucky stood close behind her.
Oddly close. Slightly to the side. She seemed to be staring intently at Olivia’s fingers as they dialed.
“What’s she doing?” Ashley asked from right beside Jack.
“Where’d you come from? And what do you mean? What’s who doing?”
“You know who I mean—Lucky. She’s practically on top of Mom, but Mom doesn’t know she’s back there. I bet Lucky’s trying to hear what Mom’s saying on the phone.”
“Mom hasn’t started talking yet,” Jack protested.
“Well, when she starts. I better get over there. If Lucky hears Mom talking to Ms. Lopez, she’ll know I squealed on her.”
Ashley darted through the crowd until she reached Lucky. The two of them immediately walked off together, so if Lucky had been trying to eavesdrop, she hadn’t heard much.
The plane they flew in to Durango had only 21 seats, total, in rows of two seats together on one side and single seats on the other. Ashley sat with Steven, Lucky with Olivia, and Jack was by himself in one of the single seats across from Lucky, with no one to talk to and a lot of time to think.
He took out his camera from his backpack and loaded a roll of film. As soon as they got settled at Mesa Verde National Park, he was going to ask Lucky if he could take her picture. Until now, Jack hadn’t been at all interested in taking pictures of people. Like his dad, he liked to shoot wildlife—with a camera. A couple of times he’d tried to take pictures of football games or hockey, but he never seemed to click the shutter at just the right fraction of a second. His sports pictures always turned out wrong, with one player’s arm across another player’s face, or a blurry streak where someone had raced past his lens.
Now he wanted to photograph Lucky. Watching her out of the corner of his eye so she wouldn’t catch him staring, he thought about how he’d frame her against the cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde. He wished he’d brought his photography magazine; it had an article about shooting portraits in a landscape environment.
“Here we are,” Olivia announced as they climbed down the stairs from the plane onto the tarmac—Durango was too small an airport to have a Jetway. “Durango, Colorado.”
“You get the baggage, Jack,” Steven told him.
When they entered the building, Lucky turned around as if she were looking for something. “I have to find a rest room,” she announced.
Pointing to a sign, Olivia said, “Over that way. Don’t be too long, though. We’ll meet you at the rental car desk, and then we’re off to Mesa Verde.”
“You bet. I can’t wait!” With a small wave, Lucky moved quickly down the corridor.
“Hold on, Lucky,” Ashley called out. “I’ll go with you.”
Lucky turned, and Jack saw another whisper of a look—maybe impatience or maybe even anger—pass across her face. “I’d like to go alone, if you don’t mind,” she said sharply.
“Why?” Ashley asked.
It seemed as though Lucky couldn’t come up with an answer. She stared at Ashley, stone-faced, her mouth pressed into a straight line. Olivia, sensing Lucky’s annoyance, cheerily said, “How about this—I’ll go with the two of you.”
A beat of silence, followed by a terse “Fine” from Lucky.
As the three of them disappeared down the hallway, Jack turned the scene over in his mind. The whole interaction between Ashley and Lucky and his mother had been odd. Why was Lucky resisting their company? Suddenly, the answer hit him: She must have wanted to break free and find a pay phone so she could check on Maria. That had to be it. He smiled to himself, warmed by the secret knowledge that only he and Lucky shared. In a way, it was hard being the one person who understood her whole story. The rest of the Landons were bound to find her behavior strange, which concerned him. Still, he’d vowed to keep her secret, and he meant to honor that promise.
For some reason it always seemed to take a lot longer for luggage to be unloaded at a small airport than at a large one. Jack stood watching the empty conveyor belt snake its lazy way around its track until the first bags appeared. A large cooler with duct tape wrapped in silver stripes pushed through the baggage opening, followed by two flowered totes and a green suitcase with wheels. Jack had just spied one of the Landon bags when a “Hey!” behind him made him jump.
Whirling around, Jack almost bumped into his sister. “Ashley, where’s Lucky?”
“Still with Mom. I want to tell you something weird. About Lucky.”
“What about her?”
“I don’t know how to say it. It was just…kind of strange, the way she was acting. For one thing, she kept looking around her all the way to the rest room. Up front, sideways, but she was only moving her eyes, like she didn’t want anyone to know she was checking the place out.”
Jack felt a surge of impatience. “So? Is that supposed to mean something?”
“Well, I’m wondering if she used to live here.”
“That’s not it.” Jack jerked his mother’s suitcase off the conveyor belt and set it down hard.
“You don’t know that,” Ashley said, her voice rising. “And why are you getting so touchy? I thought maybe you’d seen the same thing, and we could tell Mom and Dad and then maybe they could find out if Durango is her real home.”
“What is it with you, Ashley?” he demanded, grabbing another bag. “It’s like you’ve turned into a spy or something. Why don’t you just leave her alone?”
Now it was Ashley’s turn to look at him in stony silence. She might have said more, but right then Steven walked up. “Great. Our luggage made it. You two wait here with the suitcases while I go pick up the rental car.”
“What
