on, blindingly bright after the dark.
'Caroline!' Tucker pounded down the hall, grabbing her as she fell through the doorway. 'You're all right? Tell me you're all right.' He dragged her close, and holding her there, stared at his sister. She had the knife in her hand, and in her eyes was a wildness that gripped him with horror. 'Josie. In the name of God, Josie, what have you done?' The wildness faded as her eyes filled. 'I couldn't help it.' As tears spilled onto her cheeks, she turned and ran to the terrace.
'Don't let her go. Tucker, you can't let her go.' He saw his brother hesitate at the top of the steps. 'Take care of her,' he said to Dwayne, and pushed Caroline toward him before he raced after Josie. He called her name. Some of the revelers who were heading home stopped at the shouts and looked up, with much the same curiosity and expectation with which they'd watched the fireworks. Tucker sped along the terrace, dragging open doors, switching on lights. When he tugged on the doors that led into their parents' bedroom, he found them locked.
'Josie.' After a few frantic yanks, he pounded on the door. 'Josie, open up. I want you to let me in. You know I can break it down if I have to.'
He laid his brow against the glass and tried to reason out what his mind simply couldn't grasp. His sister was inside. And his sister was mad.
He pounded again, cracking the glass and bloodying his fingers. 'Open the goddamn door.' He heard a sound behind him and whirled. When he saw Burke come toward him, he shook his head. 'Get away. Get the hell away. She's my sister.'
'Tuck, Cy didn't tell me what this is all about, but-'
'Just get the hell away!' On a scream of rage, Tucker threw his weight against the door. The tickle of breaking glass was lost under the blast of a single gunshot.
'No!' Tucker went down to his knees. She was lying on the bed their parents had shared. Blood was spreading onto the white satin spread. 'Oh, Josie, no.' Already grieving, he dragged himself up. Sitting on the bed, he gathered her into his arms and rocked.
'I'm glad you came to see me.' Caroline poured coffee into two cups before she sat at her kitchen table across from Delia. 'I wanted to talk to you, but I thought it best to wait until after the funeral.'
'The preacher said she was resting now.' Delia pressed her lips together hard, then lifted her cup. 'I hope he's right. It's the living that suffer, Caroline. It's going to take some doing for Tucker and Dwayne to put this behind them. And the others, too. Happy and Junior, Arnette and Francie's folks.'
'And you.' Caroline reached out to take Delia's hand. 'I know you loved her.'
'I did.' Her voice was rough with the tears she blinked away. 'Always will, no matter what she did. There was a sickness inside her. In the end she did the only thing she knew to cure it. If she'd have hurt you-' Her hand shook, then steadied. 'I thank God she didn't. Tucker wouldn't have been able to get beyond it. I came here today to tell you that, and to say that I hope you won't turn away from the brother because of the sister.'
'Tucker and I will settle things ourselves. Delia, I feel you have a right to know. Josie told me about her mother, about how she was conceived.'
Under Caroline's, Delia's hand convulsed. 'She knew?'
'Yes, she knew.'
'But how-'
'She found out from her mother, inadvertently. I know it must have been hard on you, and on Mrs. Longstreet, holding on to that secret.'
'We thought it best. She came home that day, after he hurt her. Her dress was torn and dirty, and her face was pale as spring water. And her eyes, her eyes, Caroline, were like a sleepwalker's, all dazed and dull. She went right on up and got in the tub. Kept changing the water and scrubbing and scrubbing till her skin was raw. I saw the bruises on her. I knew. I just knew. And because I knew where she'd gone, I knew who.'
'You don't have to talk about it,' Caroline said, but Delia shook her head.
'I wanted to go over and take a whip to him myself, but I couldn't leave her. I held her while she sat in the water, and she cried and cried and cried. When she'd cried out, she said we weren't to tell Mr. Beau, nor anybody else. She was afraid the two of them would kill each other, and I expect she was right. There was nothing I could say to her that could get the idea out of her head that she was responsible. It was always Mr. Beau for her, Caroline. She was a pretty girl, and young, and she saw a bit of Austin now and again. But she never promised to marry him. That was an idea he got fixed in that hateful brain of his.'
'He had no right to do what he did, Delia. No one could think otherwise.'
'She did.' She sniffled and wiped a tear away with her knuckle. 'Not that he had the right, but that somehow she'd pushed him to it. Then she found out she was carrying, and Mr. Beau had been up in Richmond the whole two weeks during her fertile time, so she had to figure Austin had gotten her pregnant. There was no question of telling anybody then. She didn't want the child hurt. She did her best to forget, but she worried. And when Josie would go off wild, she worried more. She had her mama's looks, Josie did, just like her brothers. But I guess, because we knew, we could see something of him in her.'
So could she, Caroline thought, but said nothing.
'She wasn't to know. Not ever. But since she did, I wish she'd come to me so I could have told her how her mother tried to protect her.' Delia sighed and dabbed at her eyes. Then she went very still. 'But she knew. Lord help us, she knew. Is that why she… Oh, my baby, my poor baby.'
'Don't.' Caroline cupped Delia's hand between both of her own and leaned close to comfort. There was much that had been said in that shadowy bedroom that would remain there. In the dark. 'She was ill, Delia. That's all we know. They're all dead now-Josie, her parents, Austin. There's no one to blame. I think because of the living, because of the ones we love, the secret should be buried with them.'
Struggling for control, Delia nodded. 'Maybe Josie'll rest easier that way.'
'Maybe we all will.'
She'd hoped he would come. Caroline had wanted to give him time, but it had been a week since Josie's funeral, and she'd hardly seen him. Never alone.
Innocence was doing its best to lick its wounds and go on. From Susie, Caroline had learned that Tucker had been to see the family members of each victim. What had been said behind those closed doors remained private, but she hoped it had brought a kind of healing.
The summer was passing. The delta had a short respite from the heat when the temperatures dropped to the eighties. It wouldn't last, but she'd learned to appreciate each moment.
After hooking the pup's bright red collar to his leash, she started down the lane. The flowers her grandmother had planted years before were thriving. It took only a little care and patience.
Useless tugged at his leash and she quickened her pace. Perhaps they would walk all the way down to Sweetwater. Perhaps it was time to try.
She turned at the end of her lane and saw Tucker's car almost instantly. It looked as snazzy and arrogant as it had the first time she'd seen it barreling toward her. The sight of it made her smile. A heart wasn't as easily healed as mangled metal, but it could be done. With care and patience.
With a cluck of her tongue she pulled Useless back onto the lawn. She knew where to find Tucker.
He was fond of water, of still, quiet water. He hadn't been sure he could sit here again. Coming back had been a kind of test. But the deep green shade and the dark, placid pond were working their magic. Contentment was still out of reach, but he'd gotten a grip on acceptance.
The dog raced out of the bush, barking, and plopped his forelegs on Tucker's knees.
'Hey there, boy. Hey, fella. You're getting some size on you, aren't you?'
'I believe you're trespassing,' Caroline said as she moved into the clearing.
Tucker offered a halfhearted smile as he scratched the dog's ears. 'Your grandmother let me come and sit here a spell from time to time.'
'Well then.' She sat on the log beside him. 'I wouldn't want to break tradition.' She watched the dog lick Tucker's hands and wrists. 'He's missed you. So have I.'
'I've been… hard to be around lately.' He tossed a twig for the dog to chase. 'Heat's let up,' he said lamely.