“I like Cal a lot,” Tad said. He looked up at her. “Clancey, when is Morris coming back?”

She drew in a breath, worried and unable to hide it. “Cal said he’s getting early release,” she said, grimacing as she told him. He lost a shade of color, but his chin went up.

“Do you know when?” he asked sadly.

“No. I don’t know exactly when.”

“We won’t live with him, will we?” he asked uneasily.

“Silly boy.” She hugged him close. “No way.”

“Thanks. I was worried.” He looked up at her. “Do you think he’s changed?”

“No,” she said flatly. “Very few people change what they actually are. Some of them put on a really convincing act. Morris was good at that, even before he went to jail.”

“He’ll be on parole, though, right?” he added. “I mean, they’ll keep an eye on him. He made threats.”

“Nobody heard him make them,” she replied quietly. “It’s only gossip that he threatened the man who’s running for district attorney. It’s only gossip that he threatened me, because I sent him to jail.” She bit her lower lip. “He wrote me that nice letter, after your father died. He thanked me for all I did for Ben.”

“I still don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I, Tad,” she replied. “He ran with a bad crowd before he was sentenced, and they’re still around. Granddaddy thought he was dealing drugs as well as using them. He said he was going to prove it...” She hesitated, because that was a secret she’d never shared with Tad.

The boy looked up at her with sad eyes. “I thought there might be a reason that Morris would want to hurt him.”

She nodded. “There was. I didn’t tell you before. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She pushed back an unruly lock of his hair. “I’m sorry our apartment hunting didn’t do us any good. We’ll try again Monday, okay?”

“Cal would let us live with him,” Tad said.

“I know he would, but I don’t want to get dependent on other people,” she told him. “It’s never wise to do that. We have to try and take care of ourselves.”

“It’s you who’s doing most of the taking care of us,” Tad pointed out.

She smiled. “I’m getting pretty good at it, yeah?” she teased.

“Really good,” he agreed. He looked around at their meager furnishings. “We don’t have much. Well, except for your guitar,” he added.

“Which Morris would smash in a fit of anger if he had the opportunity.” She set her lips firmly. “I’m taking it over to the Martins when we go to church day after tomorrow. They’ll keep it for me, just in case we have to pick up and leave in a hurry.”

His heart jumped. “Where would we go?” he asked worriedly.