Diane slashed the air with her hand, cutting Peach off. Her face red, she stormed past Peach and left the room without a word. Like a servant, Garth followed on her heels. Peach and Caprice were alone. The piano music kept playing, oddly peaceful in the aftermath of Diane’s outburst.

‘I’m sorry,’ Peach murmured.

Caprice put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Frank Macy is a sensitive subject with Diane. You probably don’t know about her son—’

‘I do. I know.’

‘Then you can understand how she feels. And why drug dealers get no sympathy from her.’

‘Justin wasn’t a drug dealer,’ Peach said. ‘I don’t know what he had to do with Macy, but it wasn’t drugs.’

‘Well, regardless, Macy is someone to stay away from, Peach. It’s for your own safety, but it’s for the campaign, too. You know how the media works. They’ll grab things and turn them into stories. We can’t have that.’

‘No.’

‘Should I call Deacon?’ Caprice asked. ‘He can come get you.’

‘No, I can drive.’

‘Are you sure? You don’t look good.’

‘I’m sure.’

Caprice kept a protective arm around Peach’s shoulder as she led her back to the hallway. At the door, Caprice followed her onto the porch. Peach stared into the gardens and found she was reluctant to go. Not yet. Not now. Reading her mind, Caprice gestured at a wrought-iron bench near the pond, and they both sat there, feeling the mist of the fountain. The breeze rustled Caprice’s hair. Peach thought she was one of the prettiest women she’d ever met. It was easy to understand why Lyle had wanted to marry her.

‘How are you, really, Peach?’ Caprice asked. ‘We don’t get much chance to talk anymore. I feel bad about that.’

‘I’m okay. Lonely sometimes.’

‘After the campaign, I’ll try to do better. I miss you. I see Deacon, but not you.’

‘I know you’re busy.’

Peach knew that Caprice felt responsible for her. It wasn’t her job, but it was nice that she felt that way. If she and Lyle had married, Caprice would have been her sister-in-law, but Lyle had wanted Peach to think of Caprice as part-sister, part-mother, part-friend. She appreciated everything Caprice had done for her over the years, but she’d never felt quite that close to her. Deacon was the one who had drunk the Kool-Aid, signed on with Common Way, and devoted his life to the cause. Peach had simply been swept up in his wake.

‘How’s your work?’ Caprice asked.

‘Okay, I guess.’

‘Deacon tells me you’re very good at it.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I know it hasn’t been easy for you,’ Caprice said. ‘Do you get out much? Do you have friends?’

‘Not really. I’m too busy most of the time. It’s okay, I don’t mind being alone.’