Becky grinned.?You don?t see yourself??
Caroline laughed.
?I didn?t understand until I got older,? Becky said, ?how hard it was for you, raising us alone.?
?We did it together,? Caroline said, ?the four of us. It was our life and it?s been a good one. It?s still a good life,? she said. ?We?ll get through this hard part, this isn?t forever.?
Becky hoped it wasn?t forever, hoped her mother was right. ?No one could have had a better childhood,? she said, ?or a closer, stronger family.?
Watching Sammie out the window, where she was petting the neighbors? collie, Becky smiled as Sammie tried to push the dog into the bushes as if in some new game. When he wouldn?t go, and Sammie herself crept in beneath the shrubs, a chill touched Becky.
Rising, she moved quickly to the window. Sammie was out of sight. A sleek black convertible came slowly down the street, the top up. As Falon?s Ford coupe eased to a crawl they raced for the front door. As they crossed the glassed porch, Falon was in the yard. Behind him the driver?s door stood open, they could hear the engine running. They lost sight of him beyond the porch blinds. When they burst out to the walk the car door slammedand the car sped away.
The yard was empty. They couldn?t see Sammie, and couldn?t see if she was in the car. Becky parted the bushes, peering in, but saw only shadows. The dog had disappeared, too. She screamed for Sammie, then ran, chasing the car, ran until she heard Caroline shout.
?She?s here?she?s all right.?
Becky turned, saw Caroline kneeling, hugging Sammie. The dog was there, too, pressing against them. Becky knelt beside them, holding Sammie close, the dog licking their faces. Picking Sammie up, Becky carried her in the house like a very small child. They locked the door, and as Caroline checked the back door, Becky sat at the table holding Sammie.?What did he say? What did he do, what did he say to you??
?He came to the bushes and looked in. We were down at the end. When Brownie growled, Falon backed away. But he kept looking.? She shivered against Becky. ?He told me to come out. Brownie growled again and he turned away. I heard his door slam, heard him drive away.?
Caroline had picked up the phone to call the police. At Becky?s look she put the receiver down.
?What good,? Becky said, ?after the way we were treated in court? The Rome cops don?t like us. They?ll write it up as grandstanding, trying to get attention. Who knows what the report would say?? She stared over Sammie?s head at Caroline. Could Falon have come in retaliation because she?d talked to Natalie? She should have left the woman alone. She cuddled Sammie, kissing her, terrified for her.
Caroline sat down at the table.?I think you can?t stay in Rome. You?ll have to get out, move where he won?t find you.?
?Where, Mama? I can?t afford to rent somewhere. And my work, my bookkeeping accounts are all here.?
Caroline?s look was conflicted. ?There?s my sister, Anne. I doubt many people know where she is or even know I have a sister. I never talk about her, she never comes to see us.?
?I couldn?t go there. I haven?t seen her since I was in high school. She wouldn?t want me and Sammie, she doesn?t even like children.? The only time they heard from Anne was an occasional phone call, a familiar duty in which she?d ask after everyone?s health but didn?t seem to really care.She would send a stiff little card at Christmas, cool and impersonal.
Caroline and Anne, even when they were young children, had been at odds, Anne an austere and withdrawn little girl, disdaining the small pleasures that brought joy to Caroline and her friends. She didn?t care to climb trees, play ball, compose and act out complicated stage plays with wildly fancy costumes. Aloof and judgmental, Anne had seemed caught in her own solemn world. As if, Caroline said, Anne had neverbeen a child, not in the normal sense. Over the years, after Becky?s father died, their family had visited Anne twice in Atlanta. They weren?t comfortable in her big, elegant home, with her formal ways. She had never come up to Rome, though Caroline had invited her many times.
Anne had left Rome very young to work as a secretary in Atlanta. She had married young, and some years later was divorced. She had remained in Atlanta in her Morningside home, comfortable with the money her philandering husband had settled on her. Becky thought that asking to move in with Anne, begging to be taken in like a charity case, was not something she could handle.
But she had to get away from Falon, she had to get Sammie away.
?I?ll call her,? Caroline said. ?Let me see what I can do.?
?Mama, she won?t want us. She certainly won?t want a little girl in the house. And to know she?d be harboring a convict?s family .†.†. No, I don?t want to go there.?
?We have to try. Sammie can?t stay here, it?s too dangerous.? She put her hand over Becky?s. ?Only a few people in town would remember Anne. I doubt they?d know where she went or that she married and later divorced. I doubt anyone would know what her name is now.?
Becky wasn?t so sure. In a small town, everyone knew your business. And this small town had turned vicious; people might dredge up anything they could find.
?You have to get Sammie out of Rome, she?s the one vulnerable weapon Falon has. He?ll use her if he can, to make you stop going for an appeal. He has to be terrified of an appeal, of a new trial.?
Becky watched her mother.?I?ll look for a room in Atlanta, I can find a job there. You can keep Sammie close for a few days, keep her inside with you. Once we?re settled she?ll be in school. Maybe I can get a job with short hours, or take work home as I do here.?
?If Anne will invite you, she won?t want rent. Let me try. You?d be better off there, among other people, if you mean to keep Sammie safe.?
IT WAS LATE that night, Becky and Sammie asleep tucked up in Caroline?s guest bed, when Sammie woke shivering, clinging to Becky, her body sticky with sweat. When Becky gathered her up, holding her tight, the child said nothing, but lay against Becky in silence. Becky would never force Sammie to tell a dream, that could make her reluctant to reveal any others in the future. Silently she held Sammie until at last the child dozed again, but restlessly, as if still trying to drive away whatever vision haunted her. Only in the small hours did Sammie sleep soundly. Becky slept then, exhausted, holding Sammie close.
INSAMMIE?S DREAM Daddy was inside the bars and the man with the cold eyes and the narrow head was looking in at him but then he turned and looked hard at her, too. When he reached out for her she woke up. In the dark room she could hear her own heart pounding. Mama held her and kissed her, she clung to Mama for a long time but she was still afraid.
But then when she slept again her dream was nice. She was with the old man, the cowboy, his thin, tanned face, his gray eyes that seemed to see everything. He was in a big airplane looking out the window down at the world laid out below him, the green hills, the tall mountains. Then he was in a big black car with two men in uniform. He was coming now. Soon he would be with Daddy. And in sleep Sammie smiled, snuggling easier against Mama.
BECKY WOKE AT dawn, her eyes dry and grainy, her body aching. Whatever Sammie had experienced last night had left Becky herself uncertain and distraught. She rose, pulled on her robe, stood looking down at the sleeping child, wanting to touch her soft, innocent cheek but not wanting to wake her.
But when Becky left the room, Misto did wake Sammie. His purr rumbled, his fur was thick and warm, his whiskers tickled her face. In the dim, early light, as she recalled her dream of the cowboy she hugged Misto so tight he wriggled. The cowboy was coming now, and she didn?t feel afraid anymore. When she slept again, cocooned with the invisible tomcat, it was a sleep filled with hope that her daddy would come home. That he would come home again, safe.
7
WITH THE SUMMER heat soaking into Lee?s bones, with plenty of good food and rest and with the help of the prison doc, Lee?s condition slowly improved. As he grew stronger and wanted something to do, he was assigned light work on the prison farm. Feeding and caring for the four plow horses suited him just fine; they were placid, loving animals and he liked to baby them, to groom them, bring them carrots from the kitchen, trim their hooves when they grew too long. As fall approached, Lee settled comfortably into the pleasant routine of morning work in the stable, then breathing and gym exercises, and late afternoons on his cotwith a stack of library books. He was in Dr. Donovan?s examining room when the blow struck, when his cozy life changed abruptly and not for the better.