“I can’t say what’s in that man’s head, but maybe so.”

The serving girl sweeps by and collects our plates. I realize I’m squeezing the golden locket with my hands, twisting, twisting, twisting at the chain. I force my fingers to let go. “Hiram paid us visits, when I was little. And Daddy went to Milledgeville a few times, before he got sick.”

Jim nods. “Reuben told me they’d reconciled, years later. But your uncle has a politician’s face. Never can tell what that man is thinking. He lies slicker than a huckster with a love potion.”

I’m still not convinced Hiram wanted revenge. He was after me, what I can do.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Jim everything—about the gold dust that used to be hidden beneath our floorboards, about Hiram tricking my daddy into leaving the estate to him. It’s even on my mind to tell Jim that the gold coins in his pocket are singing to me like a hymn, that I know for sure and certain he’s carrying at least twenty dollars.

But I say nothing.

“Did you ever hear tell why your mama left Boston?” Jim asks.

“No. She hinted that something bad happened when she was a girl. Why did she?”

Jim frowns. “I don’t know. I was hoping you did.”

“Daddy never told you?”

“I don’t think Reuben ever knew.”

“Oh.”

A sudden thought almost makes me jump out of my seat: Maybe Mama had witchy powers too. Maybe that’s why she was so prickly whenever I found gold. That’s why she never let me use the word “witch” in the house.

I sigh. I’m full up on heartache and ire, on frustration at not knowing enough, and it’s making me fanciful.

“You’re sure you can’t come with me?” Jim says as he rises from the bench.

I stand up too, even though I’m not ready to say good-bye. “I’m sure.”

“Will you be all right if Hiram finds you in California?”

I swallow hard. “I guess we’ll find out.”

He reaches out and grasps my shoulder. “I wish I could tell you more.”

My eyes feel hot, and my throat constricts. “It’s more than I knew before.” Please don’t go, I want to cry out. You and Jeff are all I’ve got.

He gives me a sad smile, then thrusts out his hand. It swallows mine when we shake. I hold on longer than I should.

“I have a lot to do before sunup tomorrow, so I have to go,” he says, gently pulling his hand away from mine. “Take care of yourself, Lee. I surely hope to see you in the gold fields.”

My cheek twitches with the effort to not cry. “I surely hope so too. Thanks for dinner. For everything.”