Violet bit her lip. It was so soon. She trusted that Jay was good for Trudy—it was easy to see that they were over the moon for each other—but why was he in such a rush?

And she couldn’t deny that faint voice telling her not to ignore the small things. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About Jay. About marrying him. Trudy, you’re barely twenty years old.”

“So? Just because you’ve never fallen in love doesn’t mean I can’t.”

Violet took shallow breaths to keep from feeling the full sting of Trudy’s words. It was true, she’d never been in love, but oh, how she’d yearned for it—to have someone she could relax with, to lay down her responsibilities and duties and let herself be taken care of for once. To meet someone she could trust with her deepest heart and truest self.

When Trudy noticed the impact of her words, tears sprang into her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She reached for Violet’s hand and squeezed it. “I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s okay.” Violet swallowed hard. “But you’re young, Trudy. We both are. Don’t you think it’s a little early to be talking about marriage? Besides,” she said with a chuckle, “what would Billy think?”

It was no secret that Billy Olsen—the lanky and vaguely annoying kid down the street who’d grown into a quiet, thoughtful, and much less annoying young man—had stars in his eyes over Trudy Figg. Violet had once held a secret hope that Billy would somehow be able to sweep Trudy off her feet, but it had become clear it was Jay who’d succeeded in doing that.

Trudy picked at a thread on the tablecloth. “Jay doesn’t like Billy. He says Billy’s possessive.”

“Billy’s about as possessive as a washcloth, you know that.”

Trudy shrugged. “But Billy’s not talking about marrying me. Jay is. He loves me. Can’t you be happy for me?”

Violet studied her sister, her companion, her partner. “I do want you to be happy.”

Trudy grinned. “Good. When the time comes, I want you to be my maid of honor. I’ll pick out the prettiest dress for you.” She reached over the table and hugged Violet’s neck, then headed toward the back hallway and her bedroom. It wasn’t until she passed the lamp by the couch that Violet saw the faint finger-shaped bruises on the back of Trudy’s left arm.

* * *

After Violet’s morning bird survey, she stopped by the Audubon office to log her data into the online survey portal. Internet service in Sugar Bend tended to be spotty, and the cover of trees around Violet’s house made it even worse. Naomi, the director of the Coastal Alabama Audubon Society, told Violet when she first started volunteering that she could always come use the computer in the office when she needed to, and she gave Violet a key in case she needed to use it when the office was closed.

As Violet entered the morning’s data, her mind swirled around a comment from a customer the other day. “Have you ever considered teaching a class?” the woman had asked as she watched Trudy work on a sculpture. “I know a lot of people who’d be interested in learning how to do what you do.”