A girl tackles a vacation filled with mystery, treasure, and learning to be her true self in this middle grade “frothy summer adventure…which bristles with gentle thrills and chills” ( Publishers Weekly ) that’s a modern-day Holes set on a dusty dude ranch in Montana. Becca Soloway’s perfect summer goes up in smoke when her mom flees a looming divorce by dragging Becca to a Montana resort. To make matters worse, her mom’s hasty booking lands them not at a spa, but an aging dude ranch called Far Away. Becca is miserable until she meets the wrangler’s son, Jon, who shows her what might be the first clue to a century-old mystery: the lost treasure of a Robin Hood–like outlaw known as Pearlhandle Pete. As they slowly uncover the true history of Pete, venture into the mountains, search haunted ghost towns, and are threatened by a treasure-hunter-social-media-star, Becca discovers that treasure is in the eye of the beholder and the important things in life are always worth fighting for. Janet Fox is an author, mom, outdoor enthusiast, and former teacher. She’s been to the bottom of the ocean in a submersible and had a brief fling with rock stardom. Her award-winning stories include picture books through young adult novels but have won her fans of all ages. She lives in Bozeman, Montana. Find out more at JanetSFox.com. Chapter One: Welcome to Far Away CHAPTER ONE Welcome to Far Away Becca Soloway was sure that this would be the perfect summer. The summer of figuring her life out while lounging on a hot beach. But now she needed a road map, or a key, or a clue, because instead of perfect she’d landed in a hot mess. Starting in the middle of seventh grade, Becca had been confronted with a swirl of ups and downs—things like her parents’ constant arguing, catching the attention of the popular girls at school, and the recent wedge between her and her bestie, Ameerah Nawaz. The first surprise hit during spring break when Becca was at the mall and her mom bought her a plaid skirt and an olive-green sweater. The salesclerk said, “Honey, you’re adorable. Try some of this,” and handed her a tester of pale lipstick. Becca’s braces had just come off and her unruly red hair was magically sleek. Becca looked in the mirror and saw an entirely different person. By May, Becca was no longer the object of teasing but a subject of interest, even from Kasie Newbank and her group of the girls in Becca’s class. And from one boy in her homeroom, Tommy Stewart, who started asking for help with his math homework. Help that he didn’t seem to need, but Becca didn’t mind, since his winning smile gave her a little fluttery feeling in her stomach. Now her perfect summer sat squarely in the rearview—back in Connecticut with her dad, Ameerah, Tommy, Kasie, and the sun-sea-and-sand that had been promised as a new member of the in crowd—when Becca slid from the car and took in her unfamiliar surroundings. She stood between her Rollaboard and her mom at the entrance to a two-story log building nestled in a forest of towering pines. The building’s walls were gigantic, and a porch with oversized rocking chairs stretched across the entire front. A sign carved into the wood in flowery script hung over the entry: Far Away Ranch . “Well, they got that right,” Becca murmured as their rideshare motored away down the dirt road and into the dusty distance behind them. The drive from the airport had taken almost an hour, and this place had to be at least thirty minutes away from the last town they’d passed. Becca held up her phone and swung her arm in an arc. No cell bars, and the internet signal was weak. At least it was pretty; a narrow river rushed by, a bunch of small cabins were tucked helter-skelter behind the main one, and the backdrop was a series of increasingly tall pine- and aspen-covered mountains topped by a singular craggy and forbidding peak. But this place didn’t feel like the resort her mom described during the flight out and it sure didn’t match the pictures on the website. The pictures showed big, soft beds in luxurious rooms and a series of modern glass and wood buildings, each room with its own porch and hot tub, fine dining in three restaurants, horseback rides on manicured trails, yoga classes, art classes… “You suppose the pool is out back?” Becca asked. “Or maybe down by those barns?” Becca’s mom stared at the paper in her hand, her printed reservation. “This is the place,” she said uncertainly, “but it doesn’t look like what Susan described.” The front door opened and a dark-eyed woman with deeply tanned skin and flyaway salt-and-coal-dark hair stepped out. “Welcome! Are you Marilyn and Becca? You’ve come to Far Away to get away!” She laughed and winked. “That’s what we like to say here.” Becca twisted her lips, trying not to roll her eyes. “Come on in, and we’ll get you settled. I’m Teresa Cooke but everyone calls me Terry. I own the place.” She stepped aside, holding the door open. Becca fol