Alberta Alibi by Dayle Gaetz Page A

blown completely out of its frame. The lower branches of the nearby pines were singed and brown, and the grass in between looked black as tar.
    The backhoe, bulldozer and SUV, all parked near the edge of the reservoir, looked to be undamaged.
    Not far from them, under a copse of cottonwoods, was a large travel trailer.
    â€œIt’s lucky the fire didn’t spread through those pine trees,” Sheila observed.
    Huntley agreed. “Mom says it’s a good thing we had lots of rain last week or those trees would have gone up like torches and taken out most of the forest on our property too. But anyway, she heard on the news that the owners happened to stay here last night, so they managed to douse the flames before they spread.”
    â€œWhat a lucky coincidence,” Katie murmured.
    â€œAnd isn’t it fortunate they moved the machines and SUV before the fire?”
    â€œHey there, kids!” a voice called. “C’mon down!”
    A dog started barking behind them.
    Wendell Wedman was standing down near the stream. He waved, then turned away to quiet Rebel.
    They hobbled the horses to graze on the hillside and walked down to the stream. By then Rebel was wading in the shallows, scouting for interesting rocks. Wearing high rubber boots, Wendell stood in the middle of the stream, holding a large water keg.
    Two more kegs just like it stood on the gravel shore.
    He removed the lid, laid the keg in the water facing upstream and let it fill.
    Sheila remembered swimming here with her mom, but now the water was so low it wouldn’t reach her knees. Dad must be angry at Glenmar Development for diverting the stream like that. He needed the water for his fields and cattle. Her thoughts shifted to the trumpeter swans. This was their nesting period, but there wasn’t enough water for them anymore. Everything was being ruined by that stupid development.
    When the keg was full, Wendell replaced the lid, screwed it tight, picked up the keg by its wide, sturdy handle and made his way carefully over slippery rocks to shore.
    He placed the heavy keg beside the other two.
    â€œWell, that’s done,” he said.
    This time Katie had brought her notebook stuffed in her backpack. She got it out now and opened it.
    â€œYou got more questions?” he asked warily.
    â€œUm, a few. Sheila does too.”
    â€œIn that case, you kids better make yourselves useful.” He picked up the keg with one wiry arm and started to trudge up the slope toward his van. “Think you can carry those other two kegs for me?”
    â€œSimple!” Rusty ran over to one of them. He grabbed the handle, pulled, strained and managed to move the keg about one centimeter off the ground. He struggled forward one full step and put it down again.
    â€œWant some help?” Huntley asked. With both boys clutching the handle, they managed to lift the heavy keg high enough to lurch forward with it.
    The girls walked over to carry the third keg.
    Sheila was surprised by how heavy it was, even with Katie’s help. Wendell must be stronger than he looked. The girls didn’t do much better than the boys, but arrived at the van slightly ahead of them.
    Wendell had already finished emptying the first keg into the van’s water tank.
    He turned, took the girls’ keg from them and lifted it to pour the water into a funnel he had rigged up on his water intake pipe. He watched Rusty and Huntley struggle up the last of the slope. “Simple, eh?” He winked at Rusty.
    Red-faced and puffing, Rusty put down his side of the keg, straightened up and rubbed his hand.
    There was a bright red mark across it where he had gripped the handle. He grinned. “Easy for you to say.”
    Wendell refused to answer any questions until he had emptied every drop of water into the tank.
    Then he muttered something about the kettle and disappeared inside his van.
    The boys wandered back down to the stream and tossed sticks for