He laughed. “That aint so.”

I pulled his shirt up and ran my hands up and down his back. I felt the mole on his left shoulderblade and rubbed it with one finger, rejoicing in its familiarity. “I know something Annadel Justice aint done for you.”

He kissed me. “I been hungrier to taste your mouth than any kind of food,” he said.

He was restless that night, finally sat up in bed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I know you had a long trip today. I reckon I cant git used to a bed after them cots.”

“Hit’s all right. I wasnt sleepy no way.”

“I been going over everything in my mind.”

I twisted my fingers in the short curly hair of his chest and buried my nose in the soft flesh of his underarm.

“We got to face the worst,” he said. “They may convict.”

“We dont have to fret about that yet. The trial will take a while, and you’ll be out on bond the whole time.”

“But that trial will be crazy, Carrie. They’s newspaper people coming, and they’s already folks pestering me on the streets. We aint going to have much time to ourselves.”

“Aint had none anyway since the strike.”

“I know it. And that’s why we got to say some things to each other. They could put me in prison for life. They could hang me.”

“They wont,” I said quickly. “Ermel says even ifn they convict, the circumstances aint right for first degree. The judge will make them reduce it.”

“They brung the charge,” he persisted.

“They wont do nothing like that,” I said.

“Ifn they do, I want you to promise me you’ll go back home. I know how much you love that place. Hit was such a joy to see you git offn that train today, to see the color in your cheeks, and your eyes bright. I know what put the life back in your face.”

“Hit was seeing you again.”

“No it werent. It was the Homeplace. If they convict, I want you to go back there. I cant bear the thought of being in prison and knowing you’re in that tent. I want you back on your land with your people. Promise me, Carrie.”

“Only if you promise you’ll go back there with me when the strike’s over. Leave the coal mines, go back there and be there for good.”

He lay back on his pillow and didn’t speak for a very long time. I put a finger gently to his lips and he kissed the tip.

“I cant see that far ahead,” he murmured. His lips moved against my finger. “After the trial.” He turned his head toward me. “Hit’s like the refiner’s fire, this here trial. Hit will leave everything clear, if I do like God says. They’ll be gun thugs at that trial, Carrie, and the brother of them two that was shot. And they’ll be hating me and Isom. They’ll look at me and I’ll see that hate in their eyes. I got to look back at them without hate. I got to be able to smile and speak gentle, and when the lawyers ask me questions, I got to answer with respect. And ifn I can do that, maybe I can live at the Homeplace.”