give her safe harbor without compromising the secrecy of his mission. He couldn’t send her and the children out into the elements.
He could try to get some sleep. Occasionally, the answers to perplexing problems came to him while he slumbered. More than a few puzzles had knit together in his dreams.
He closed the front door, shook off a shiver and tried once again to fold his body in a too-small chair.
Knees up, shoulders hunched, neck twisted, with eyes closed and sheep counted...this time he would make it work.
“Stars shine bright, sleep tight tonight,” he whispered. His eyes popped wide-open.
From what dusty part of his brain had he remembered that? Years ago it had been Lilleth’s nightly farewell when, far past the time when most girls were allowed out, she would peck his cheek and dash through the trees toward home.
“Stars shine bright, sleep tight tonight,” he repeated, dusting off the phrase and polishing it. Amazingly, he began to get sleepy.
Behind his eyelids he saw young Lilleth in the woods.
Summer heat shimmered off the ground even though it was hours after sundown. Leaves on the trees drooped, looking wilted under the light of a full moon.
She ran toward Red Leaf Pond holding the hem of her white nightgown in her fists.
She didn’t appear to see him sitting on the rotting tree trunk at the edge of the pond. She must have been trying to escape the heat, just as he was.
His own ma and pa didn’t mind their boys running loose after dark. His sister complained to high heaven, but she was a girl, and therefore confined to the safety of home.
But Lilleth didn’t live by those rules. Her mother wouldn’t care that she was out, even if she knew.
Just now, Lils ran barefoot and free. Her red hair streamed out behind her, winking at the moon.
At the water’s edge she waded in past her ankles, then began to lift her shift, clearly intending to draw the thin, worn fabric over her head.
“Hey, Lils!” He stood up quickly and strode into the moonlight. “Mind if I come in, too?”
She dropped the hem of her nightgown and grinned at him. “I’ll race you to the middle,” she called.
She waited for him to strip to his underdrawers before she dived in. She didn’t need a head start, for she swam like a tadpole.
They met in the center, circling around each other and laughing. Moonlight dappled the surface of the pond where they kicked and splashed.
“Oh.” Lilleth ducked under the water, then surfaced again. “The day’s been blistering. This feels so good.”
“Yeah, but Lils, you shouldn’t be out by yourself at night. It’s not safe.”
“Safer than home, I guess.” She brushed her hand across her face, sluicing water from her eyes and nose. “Mama has a new man and Beth and I haven’t got him figured out yet. Besides, I’m not alone, you’re here.”
“I might not have been.” He ducked under the water and came up blowing out a mouthful, pretending to be the spout of a fancy fountain. “What if Horn and Pard Higgins are slinking about?”
“Well, they aren’t. And you are here.”
With that she flipped beneath the water and grabbed hold of his feet. She yanked him under. He caught her around the middle, feeling ribs under cotton, and then hoisted her up. He surfaced in time to see her flying through the air, laughing and sputtering.
They played like that for a long time before Lils began to shiver and they swam for shore.
He put his clothes on while she wrung out her hair.
“I’ll walk you home,” he said.
“I’m going to run.” She flashed him a grin with pond water still speckling her lashes. “You won’t be able to catch up.”
“My legs are longer.”
“Mine are quicker.” She bounced up on her toes and pecked his cheek. “Stars shine bright, sleep tight tonight.”
Then she was off, a streak in the moonlight. He laughed out loud. His longer legs never were a match for her quicker ones, but at least he’d get there in time to see her close her front door safely behind her.
Trace twitched in his sleep. He groaned and woke up.
That night, he never did see Lils open her door. He heard her scream.
Bursting out of the woods, he saw the Higgins boys push Lilleth to the ground. Horn knelt over her, pinning her wrists to the parched earth. Pard laughed and called her obscene names.
Lils spat back oaths that would have sent ordinary mischief-makers running, but Pard and Horn weren’t ordinary. The twins fed off each other, one disrespectful and the other mean. Even adults kept out of their way.
Running full speed, Trace plowed into Horn, but didn’t see the jagged stick that Lils had gripped in her fist, ready to jab her assailant with.
He knocked Horn over. The bully slammed into his brother. Blood spurted, some from Horn’s ear and some from Pard’s nose.
It looked as if the boys didn’t care for having their own blood spilled, because they ran away crying and cursing. And a good thing, too, because Trace couldn’t have moved a muscle to protect Lilleth.
The stick that she had intended to jab Horn with now stuck out of his own chest. Blood pulsed from a long gash across his ribs. Lils looked like a blur leaning over him, pressing his wound and yelling at him. After a moment even her screams sounded like whispers.
Trace sat up in his chair and let his feet hit the cold floor. He’d been sick—close to death, he’d been told. Mostly, all he remembered was a visit from Lils.
She had come to his house weeping, and blowing a kiss at his scar. He told her he didn’t mind it, that the scar was bound to heal into an L, for Lils. She’d laughed and dried her tears.
That’s when she gave him a quick, sweet kiss on the lips, pressed his hand to her heart and vowed to marry him and only him.
Then, suddenly, she was gone, and no one knew where or even exactly when her mother had packed them off.
He’d been right about the scar. From that day until now, all he’d had of Lilleth was her initial across his heart.
* * *
Lilleth stepped cautiously onto the boardwalk. Ice crunched under her feet. Early morning sunshine peeked under her hat and gave the illusion of warmth even though her breath fogged in front of her face.
The storm had blown away with the dawn, and so had some of her worries. She couldn’t help it; she had to sing, if only under her breath.
Horton File, Realtor, had been the most agreeable of men. But then, who wouldn’t have been, receiving such
