As she grew, Idelle began assisting Alice Nettles in her teaching duties. As Atherton’s population grew, so did her responsibilities. By the time she was fourteen, Idelle was handling the kinder classes all by herself and receiving university-level instruction from Alice’s husband, Rodney.

Dovie was so proud of Idelle, and the confident young woman she’d become. Every minute she spent with her daughter made enduring the torment of being Burnell Shipley’s wife bearable. If only she could see Samuel, and be reassured he was happy and well, she would be satisfied.

But Dovie knew seeing her son again was not in the cards. His life had only been spared by her sacrifice and his promise never to return. Should Samuel come back to Atherton, as much as she longed to see him, it would be his end. The end of her and Idelle in all likelihood, too.

So Dovie was forced to console herself with imagining that Samuel was safe somewhere, far from Atherton, perhaps living near the ocean in California. In her dreams she always envisioned him with a beautiful young wife and children, happy in the loving embrace of a new family to replace the one he’d lost.

Dovie’s reverie was shattered by the clop of hooves. Two riders approached from around the schoolhouse. Dovie looked up to find Eli Gaines and another deputy named Bernard Moss, a slovenly man with a long beard, pull their mounts to a stop at the edge of their picnic blanket.

“Afternoon, ladies,” Gaines drawled in his high-pitched voice. He had a wad of tobacco in his distended jaw. Neither he nor Deputy Moss made any effort to conceal their leers as they ogled the two women.

“What do you want?” Dovie demanded.

“Just stopped by to check in on you,” Gaines said. “As a lawman, I’m responsible for your safety. I’d expect you’d be a little more appreciative of my concern for your well-being.”

“We’re fine,” Dovie said. “If you’ll excuse us?”

“You know,” Gaines went on, ignoring Dovie’s plea for him to depart, “I’ve been keeping my eye on you, Idelle. You’re gettin’ to be quite a growed-up woman.” He turned his head and spat without taking his eyes off Idelle. “Ain’t gonna be too long before you’ll be of age to get hitched.”

Dovie stood. “Hold your tongue,” she said. “I’ll not sit idly by and have the likes of you slobber over my daughter.”

“Not good enough for her, am I?”

“As a matter of fact, you’re not. You’re swine.”

“Hear that, Eli?” Moss laughed. “She called you a pig.”

“Not very neighborly of her, is it?” Gaines said.

“You two animals aren’t fit to breathe the same air as Idelle, much less talk to her. Get out of here and leave us be, before I—”