Then the woman’s eyes widened as if in surprise; something like a heat-shimmer passed over her—

And then she was wearing a perfectly ordinary—and yet, extraordinary—dress. Perfectly ordinary, in that it was no different than any dress and apron you’d see on anyone who was moderately prosperous from Soddy—anyone who was just ordinary folks, that is, and not someone like a mine owner’s wife, who’d wear gowns not made for heavy work. Just a print dress with full sleeves and a full skirt with a round collar, and an apron tied over it. Extraordinary in that Anna had never, ever seen a print like this, anywhere. It wasn’t a flour-sack print, nor a store-bought muslin, nor a simple, plain color. It was as green as the last dress, but subtly patterned in curling, irregularly waving lines of lighter and darker green, and the apron was a light green that matched the lighter stripes, instead of the usual white or cream. Her hair—still that brilliant red, but this time in a tidy braid wrapped primly around her head then coiled into a knot at the nape of her neck, put up like a grown woman’s should be, had a huge green ribbon bow above the coiled knot.

Anna found it very difficult to breathe. Because the woman was still so beautiful that she didn’t seem to belong on this earth.

And Anna felt herself to be as plain as a mud brick, and as clumsy as a newborn foal in this woman’s presence.

Footsteps behind her told her that her aunt had seen the newcomer and was approaching. And she had never felt so grateful for the presence of another person in her life.

“Howdy, Jolene,” her aunt said dryly, as if the woman’s appearance was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Hello, Virginia,” came the reply, in a low, dulcet voice, made for breaking hearts. The woman smiled. “So this is your new apprentice.” It wasn’t a question. As if this Jolene knew exactly what Anna had said to her aunt over breakfast.

“My niece,” Jinny corrected, with a certain hardness in her voice that surprised Anna. “Y’all ain’t t’ interfere with her, no way, nohow. I got my limits, an’ messin’ with my kin is one ’f ’em.”

“I wouldn’t dream of interfering,” Jolene replied, in tones that suggested the opposite, and smiled again, this time finally wearing an expression—an expression of mischief. Not malicious mischief, or at least, not intentionally malicious—but the sort of mischief gotten into by someone who is generally careless of the repercussions her mischief causes. Especially when those repercussions happen to someone else, and not her.

Who is this woman? Anna wondered with bewilderment. Or maybe . . . it ain’t a who. It’s a what. Because she didn’t seem human, somehow. And now Jolene was bending the full force of her concentration on Anna, head tilted to the side in a way that reminded Anna of an emotionless insect. Or maybe I’m the bug to her. Anna wasn’t sure what had prompted that thought—but the instant it sprang into her mind, she was convinced it was true.