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Back Come Again No More Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover
  3. Title Page
  4. Contents
  5. PART I 
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. PART II 
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. PART III 
  38. 31.
  39. 32.
  40. 33.
  41. 34.
  42. 35.
  43. 36.
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. PART IV 
  48. 40.
  49. 41.
  50. 42.
  51. 43.
  52. 44.
  53. 45.
  54. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  55. Touchstone Reading Group Guide

EMALINE WOKE AT DAWN. THE WIND HOWLED OUTSIDE, grit rattled against the windowpanes, dust sifted into the house. She rose, dressed quickly, fought her way out the door. For the three-mile walk to the Arrowhead Diner, she turned up the collar of her coat, wrapped one scarf over her head, wound another over her eyes, leaving just enough room to peer through the slits. It wouldn’t keep all the dust out, but it was better than nothing. Outside, she watched a turtledove trying to fly west, into the wind. Hard as it flew, the dove kept getting pushed back in the opposite direction. She worried that the poor thing might die flying backward, but the wind eased a bit and the dove was able to fly at an angle to the wind and into shelter under the eaves of an old barn.

She had walked no more than half a mile when Deputy Sheriff Dexter McGuinty eased his patrol car up beside her and pushed the door open. Emaline got into the car.

“Morning, Dexter.”

“Mornin yourself, Emaline. Nasty weather for a girl to be out walkin by her lonesome.”

“Thanks for stopping.”

“That’s Dexter McGuinty, sweetheart. Just the way I am. Always anxious to do a favor for a little lady such as yourself.”

He squeezed her thigh.

“How’s Estelle, Dexter?”

“Still asleep when I left. She’s probably on the telephone right now, telling Syl Whiting the coast is clear.”

Syl was a big, shambling deputy who was about two of Dexter in every direction. Dexter’s wife, Estelle, was a pale and peaked little thing with a wonky eye. Emaline thought it was unlikely that Syl was after Estelle, but Dexter was sure something was up. One of these days, he said, he was going to sneak home early and catch Syl and Estelle in the act.

“Dexter, I’m sure Estelle only has eyes for you. In a little town like this, he couldn’t park his patrol car outside your house.”

“Sure he could. People would think it was mine.”

“If you want to go on being silly, Dexter, there’s nothing I can do about it. But you’re wrong about Estelle.”

Dexter rolled his eyes, but he shut up. When they pulled up in front of the diner, he put his hand on her thigh again. She slid away, asked if he was going to come in for breakfast.

Dexter shook his head. “No, I think I’ll drive by the house. See who’s there.”

Emaline barely had time to take off her coat and scarf and shake the dust out of her hair before the door blew open. Cecil Narrows limped into the diner, followed by Earl Beckman and Vern Schneider, all of them shedding dust like sod-house rugs. Charlie Naudain glanced up from his cash register and grinned. Customers who paid cash on the barrelhead, all three of them.