contact came with a "Thank you," or a "God bless you and keep you," and each time I was surprised. This had never happened to me before. I was sure it would never happen again. Doak Garland embraced me when we reached his spot at the door, his white hands light on my shoulders so he wouldn't hurt me. Barney Simpson, towering over me, reached out to give me a light pat. Parker McGraw said, "Bless you," and Bethalynn wept, her arms around her remaining son.
No one asked me a single question about how I'd found the boys. The faith of Doraville seemed to hinge on the acceptance of God's mysterious ways and the strange instruments he selects to perform his will.
I was the strange instrument, of course.
Eight
THERE were a couple of cars behind us on the long road out to Pine Landing Lake. Of course, the little hamlet of Harmony was past the lake, and there were other people in residence at the lake itself, so I told myself not to be crazy. After we turned off, the other cars continued on their way. Tolliver didn't comment one way or the other, and I didn't want to sound paranoid, so I didn't say anything.
We hadn't left on an outside light—in fact, I wasn't even sure if there was one—and I tried to mark the location of the stairs before Tolliver cut the ignition. We had a few seconds before the headlights turned off, so I hurried as much as I could to start up while I could see my way. There was a noise from the underbrush, and I said, "What the hell is that?" I had to stop and look, and then I saw a lumbering small shape scoot across the driveway and into the thicket between ours and the next vacant cabin, barely visible through the thick growth of trees and brush.
"Coon," Tolliver said, relief clear in his voice. Just then the headlights cut out and we made our way up to the cabin in an anxious silence. Tolliver had gotten the key out, and after some fumbling he managed to turn it the right way. My fingers scrabbled on the wall, trying to find the light switch. Contact! In a split second, we had the miracle of electric light.
The fire had died down in our absence, and Tolliver set about building it back up. He was really into being Frontier Man, and I suspected he was feeling very macho. Not only was his kinswoman wounded (me), requiring his care and attention, but he had to provide fire for me. Soon he would start to draw on the walls about hunting the buffalo. So I was smiling at him when he turned around, and he was startled.
"You ready for bed?" he asked.
"I'm sure ready to put on my pajamas and read," I said. It was pathetically early, but I was exhausted. He opened my suitcase and got out my flannel sleep pants and the long- sleeved thin top that had come with them. He'd given the set to me for Christmas, and it was dark blue with silver crescent moons on the pants and silver sparkles on the top. I hadn't quite known what to say when I'd opened the box, but I'd grown to like them.
"Are you going to need me to help?" he asked, trying hard to keep any trace of embarrassment out of his voice. We were pretty matter-of-fact about brief glimpses of each other that sometimes occurred when we shared a room, but somehow his assisting me with my clothes was a little more personal.
I ran through the process in my head. "I'll need help getting my shirt off," I said, "and unhooking my bra." A nurse had helped me get it on that morning.
I went into the very rudimentary bathroom, which was several degrees colder than the main room since it was farthest from the fireplace, and began the unexpectedly complicated task of getting my clothes off and my pajamas on. My socks defeated me, though. We'd put out some towels before we left, and I scrubbed my face, which would just have to do for tonight. After a few groans and some cursing, I had my pajama bottoms on, my shirt half off, and I backed out of the bathroom so Tolliver could help with the rest.
There was a long moment of silence. Then he said, "There's a lot of bruising on your arms and ribs," and his voice was tight.
"Yeah, well," I muttered. "When someone hits you with something big, that's what happens. Get the bra, okay? I'm freezing."
I barely felt his fingers as he took care of the hooks. "Thanks," I said, and scurried back into the bathroom. When my mission was accomplished, I gathered up my discarded clothes and brought them out with me, shoving my shoes ahead of me with my foot. I'd kept my socks on. It was just too cold to take them off.
Tolliver had turned down my sheets and blankets for me, and propped up the pillows. My book was on the bedside table; but my bad arm would be toward that side. I hadn't thought about that when I'd picked the usual bed.
He held the covers up while I maneuvered myself into bed. Then he covered me up. Oh, even on this lumpy old bed, being on my back felt divine.
"I'm all tucked in," I said, already feeling sleepier. "Gonna read me a story?"
"Read your own damn story," Tolliver said, but he was smiling, and he bent over to give me a kiss. "You've been a real trouper today, Harper. I'm proud of you."
I couldn't see what I'd done that day that had been so outstanding. I said so. "It's just been another day," I said, my eyelids drifting shut.
He laughed, but if he said anything in response, I missed it.
When I woke up, it was daylight. I hadn't even had to get up to use the bathroom during the night. Tolliver was still asleep in the bed to my left. There weren't any curtains up over the big windows in the cabin—maybe they'd been taken down for the winter, or maybe the family just dispensed with them out here—and I could see trees outside. I turned my head and looked over the hump that was Tolliver to peer out the glass doors onto the big porch outside. Was it a porch, or a balcony? It was on the second floor of the structure…. I decided it was a porch, and I could see that it was no weather to stand outside on it. The sky was clear and beautiful, and the wind was blowing; it looked cold, somehow. If the weatherman had been correct, this would be the high point of the day.
Maybe we would get to leave today, start up to Pennsylvania. It would be just as cold there, if not colder; but maybe we could dodge the predicted winter storm. I would never see Twyla Cotton again, probably. Maybe I would see Chuck Almand again on the news in a few years, when he got arrested for killing someone. His dad would cry and wonder what he'd done wrong. After we left Doraville, the town would get back to its business of mourning its dead and accommodating its media visitors. The funeral directors would have an unexpected surge in profits. The hotels and restaurants would, too. Sheriff Rockwell would be glad to see the last of the state boys. They'd be glad to leave Doraville and return to wherever they were based.
Manfred and his grandmother would go back to their home in Tennessee. Sometime in the next few months, Xylda would die. Manfred would be on his own, begin his own career of providing psychic insights to the ignorant and the educated. Sometimes he'd be sincere, and sometimes he wouldn't. I thought about Tolliver's surprising paranoia concerning Manfred. I smiled to myself. It was true I found Manfred intriguing, if he wasn't exactly my inner pinup poster. His confidence that he could please me, and his conviction that I was desirable…well, what woman doesn't enjoy that? That's pretty potent. But as far as actually following through on it…it was probably more fun to flirt with Manfred than actually carry the attraction to the next level. Though I wasn't much older than him in years, in other ways I felt I was way too much his senior.
I really needed to get up to visit the bathroom. With a reluctant sigh, I worked my way out of the covers and sat up. This low bed was not good for such maneuvering, and it was hard keeping quiet, but I wanted to let Tolliver sleep as long as he could. He'd had the harder row to hoe the day before, having to take care of me.
Finally, I was on my feet and heading to the bathroom. That necessary task done, I brushed my hair one-handed, with a very lopsided result, and brushed my teeth a bit more efficiently. I felt better immediately. When I opened the door as quietly as possible, I saw that Tolliver wasn't moving, so I padded over to the fireplace and eyed the remaining embers. Carefully, I added more wood, trying to keep the arrangement tight but with ventilation as Tolliver had done. To my gratification, the fire picked right up. Hah!
"Good job," said Tolliver, his voice heavy with sleep. I eased into one of the two ancient wooden chairs he'd arranged in front of the fire. Its faded cushion smelled of damp and some long-ago dog. Of course the family would put their castoffs out here. No point buying special furniture for a place where they came to relax, where they'd be coming in wet from swimming. Also, the cabin was pretty vulnerable to theft, and who wants to tempt thieves with something valuable? I told myself how grateful I was to Twyla for letting us stay here, for free and away from the reporters. But at the same time, I admitted to myself that I'd much rather be in the motel, at least from a comfort standpoint.
Tolliver had his cell phone plugged in and charging, and now it rang.
"Crap," he said, and I agreed with the sentiment. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to anyone.
"Hello," he said, and after that all I heard was, "I guess we can," and "Okay," very noncommittal stuff. He hung up and groaned.
"That was the SBI agent, Klavin. He wants us to come into the station in an hour."
"I have to have coffee before I face any cops," I said.
"Yeah, no shit." He got out of bed and stretched. "You sleep okay?"
"Yeah, I don't think I moved all night." I did some stretching myself.
"I'll go shower. What are you going to do about that?"
"I'll have to take a sort of sponge bath, I guess. I can't get these bandages wet." That was another thing that was going to grow old very quickly.
"Okay, I'll hurry." Tolliver can take the quickest showers of anyone I know, and he was out and toweling his hair while I was still trying to assemble a set of clothes for the day. I managed to get my pajamas off by myself, and I managed to clean myself—more or less—but getting dressed was a real ordeal. I was trying to balance modesty with need, and it wasn't an easy achievement. Putting on my
