She didn’t care what her husband did, and in truth, was grateful for the times he was away. Succumbing to his occasional marital demands when he was in Atherton was beyond revolting. Dovie consoled herself, while suffering in the midst of Burnell’s grunting throes, with the knowledge that her daughter was growing up safe and healthy, and her son, wherever he was, was still alive. She’d kept her word, and honored her end of the bargain. In that small thing, and the safety of her children it wrought, she took her only comfort.

Dovie walked through the bustling streets, aware that men who didn’t know her still stopped and stared. She was an uncommonly beautiful woman, and despite the burden of shame she’d borne since Thomas’s death, maintained her youthful and healthy appearance.

Dovie reached the Nettleses’ modest home, next to the schoolhouse. Before she could knock, the door was flung open, and Idelle rushed out to greet her. Her first vision of her daughter was always like a tonic, and she hugged her child every day as if seeing her for the first time in years.

Idelle was now fifteen, and like her mother before her, had blossomed into a breathtakingly beautiful young woman. Her long blond hair flowed over her shoulders, and her crystal blue eyes, a family trait, sparkled along with her smile.

“Hello, Mama. Are you ready to go?”

“As always.” She held up the basket. “I brought your favorite. Fried chicken and peach pie.”

It was Dovie and Idelle’s custom each Saturday, when the weather permitted, to have a picnic lunch on the schoolhouse lawn. It was close enough to town to be an easy walk for Dovie, and private enough, since not a school day, for them to enjoy each other’s company without interruption in the seclusion of the schoolyard.

Idelle grabbed a blanket, took her mother’s hand, and they retreated to the rear of the schoolhouse. In another moment they had the blanket spread and the food laid out.

As always before dining, they joined hands in prayer. Dovie led the invocation.

“We thank thee, Lord,” she began, “for thy bounty. Bless the memory of Thomas, who is at your side, and keep watch over Samuel, wherever he may be. In your grace, amen.”

“Amen,” Idelle repeated.

They began to eat, chatting and reveling in the delicious food, unseasonably warm spring day, and the joy of each other’s companionship. Both Dovie and Idelle looked forward all week to their Saturdays together.

Since her father’s death Idelle resided, at Dovie’s insistence, at the Nettleses’ home. Dovie held Burnell to his promise of a generous stipend, one hundred dollars per month, for Idelle’s board and care. She also strictly forbade her daughter from ever going into town without her, or entering the Atherton Arms Hotel.