Soon the whole crowd was on their feet, and it looked like they were going to swallow Marigold. She kept her head down, and Coot held her close.

“I’m scared,” she whispered to Coot.

“Don’t be,” he said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It just sounded like the right thing to say.”

One deputy said, “I don’t recognize any of these people. They ain’t from our town.”

“Reckon they’re here for J. Wilbur,” said the sheriff. “The whole world must follow him wherever he goes.”

Marigold glanced at a license plate on one of the nearby vehicles. It was from Ohio. She saw another vehicle from Maryland. She didn’t even know where Maryland was on a map.

Coot hooked his arm tightly around her. She leaned into him. They passed men who held shotguns, families with children who wore big eyes, and old men holding Bibles.

When they got close to the police car, they saw a man with a long black beard standing beside it, a rifle slung over his shoulder. The man’s long hair was oiled against his head, and his clothes were tattered.

He spit when he saw the sheriff, then made a clicking noise with his mouth that sounded like he was calling a horse. Marigold saw five others emerge from behind the squad car so quietly, she almost missed them. Each man bearing a rifle.

The sheriff stepped forward and shouted, “I’m Sheriff Locklin, and you better let us through.”

The man with the beard took two steps forward. He was joined by his allies, who all aimed their rifles at them.

The sheriff did not budge. “You’re about to be very sorry if you don’t step away from that vehicle, son.”

The bearded man didn’t move a facial muscle. He only stared at the deputies with slow eyes. Marigold noticed his eyes were so dark brown they looked black. She ducked her head.

The man said, “We want the harlot, Sheriff.”

The sheriff withdrew his pistol. Black Beard and Company thumb-cocked their weapons almost in unison. The deputies behind Marigold also took aim with their guns and stood wide-legged and ready to kill something.

The man with the long beard shouted, “That woman is an abomination!”

“That’s close enough!” the sheriff hollered. “If you move an inch closer, you’re gonna have a big problem on your hands.”

The bearded man wrinkled his nose. He peered over his rifle barrel and landed his eyes on Marigold. He gave a smirk when he locked eyes with her and swung his barrel toward her.

“That sure is a pretty deputy you got,” said the man.

A loud blast.

Coot threw Marigold to the ground and draped himself on top of her. Joseph jumped atop Coot. And beneath the three-person dog pile, Marigold could feel her heart beating inside her throat. She was too scared to breathe.