"Your sister has gone missing again."

At the sound of her father's gravelly voice, Rose Tillson jumped. Hastily she pressed her finger to the account book on her lap, trying to keep her place in the column of penciled figures she was supposed to be tallying.

"Hmm?" Trying to appear wholly innocent, Rose glanced up.

She felt immediately dismayed at the sight before her. Her father stood grumpily just outside the medicine show wagons that housed their belongings, his gray hair on end and his clothing askew. Typically, Dr. George Tillson prided himself on his dapper appearance. Today, though, Viola's latest escapade seemed to have upset him too much for him to bother.

"Oh, Papa! You haven't even buttoned your coat." Rose nodded at the fallen leaves swirling in the autumn breeze nearby. "It's cold! You'll catch your death outside. Here, let me help you."

Clambering down from the wagon—an enclosed affair, with the words "Tillson & Healy s Patented Miracle Elixir & Celebrated Panacea"d painted in vibrant lettering on its sides—Rose buttoned her father's coat. Then she smoothed his hair and fixed his scarf.

"There." Satisfied that he'd be warm enough, she gave him an affectionate pat. "Now, then. You say Viola's not in camp?"

"Not since sunup, near as I can tell." Her father shook his head, peering into the ponderosa pine and oak-filled forest surrounding their campsite. A short distance from the doused fire their four horses nosed aside the frostbitten leaves, searching for breakfast. "She didn't feed or water the horses, either. I told her we were leaving straightaway this morning."

"I know you did. Don't worry. I'll go look for her."