“We’ll just be out here—wouldn’t want to impose,” Deputy Worth said.

“No, we don’t want that,” said Deputy Iverson.

Lady Mae opened the door, and Arbuckle stepped through first. She went to follow but heard Deputy Iverson clear his throat behind her. Without turning around, she hesitated, her hand on the frame, and listened.

“We’ll be here, Lady Mae,” Deputy Iverson said. “Don’t you go getting any ideas.”

“I ain’t,” she said.

“Good to hear. Specially since I know there’s truth to that boy’s letter. Don’t think you’re hiding it, Lady Mae. You ain’t nothing if not like your mama. Might’ve fooled Daniels, but you ain’t fooled me.”

She did not reply but instead entered the house. As her eyes adjusted to the change in light, she closed the door behind her with a shaking hand.

“Arbuckle,” she said. “You alright?”

He reached his arms around her and pulled her close. “Aye,” he said.

“What’d they do to you?”

“Just asked me questions is all.”

Lady Mae brought her hand up to his face and placed her palm gently upon his cheek. She felt his beard, thick and soft, and the muscles work beneath it. He was not telling her the truth.

“But you had a bridle on.”

“Guess they didn’t like how I was answering.”

“Arbuckle,” she said, pulling away from him. “It’s my fault—that you got so many atonements, that your hands—I, I thought—the letter. What’d you think coming here with something like that? You know them words get you in trouble.”

“I was going to give it to you, least tell you what it said. I started but—”

“I ain’t let you finish, did I?”

“No.”

“And then?”

“And then. Never thought about the fact I had it on me in my coat. Was thinking of other things.” He bent and kissed her long and slow, and she gave into it, leaned in to the fullness of it all, her flesh alive with his touch. His hands found her body—his hands. She grasped them then and pulled him close.

“Arbuckle, if I’d heard what you said in that letter, I would’ve burned it right then and there. When Deputy Iverson came and read it—I thought if I said it were true they’d hang me. Reckon I thought you’d get falsification. I didn’t know—blasphemy—I didn’t know, Arbuckle. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey now. You ain’t done nothing wrong,” he said and held her head to his chest.

“But you got twenty. And your hands!” She cried into him, let it come as it might. All those years stored up inside of her flipped quickly past, mournful and choking.

“Don’t matter, right?” he asked and gently lifted her head. “I got your hands now, too, don’t I? And I think I got a plan.”

“But the Deputies are right outside—front and back. They’re going to follow us—”

“I know it. I figured it. We’ll play calm, wait it out through the night. Long as we stay inside, they should leave us alone. Tomorrow we’ll go to the depot and you’ll do one, and then they’ll go. They’ll see you going through with it, that I’m abiding. You’ve said it yourself; only time the Deputies stay is if a patient is violent, and I ain’t that. They’ll see you start, and they’ll leave, and then we just wait till nightfall.”