“You reckon she’ll be back tonight?”

“Tomorrow, I think.”

“Tomorrow.”

Jack didn’t answer. The needed thing was calmness.

“I got to talk with her before then.”

“Whatever you’ve got to say,” Jack said, “I’ll tell her.”

Doyle watched him. No expression. Snow bits gathered on the brim of his hat. “The bank put your place up for auction. Did your ma tell you? They’re gonna force you out. You got two days.”

Jack felt a wobble in his legs and sharp wounds scraping his throat. His head went woozy, and his ears started humming with loud noise. Everything in his view tilted. The barn and the trees shifted heights.

“You got somewhere you can go?” Doyle asked.

“We’re fine.”

They stood looking at each other in silence.

Doyle nodded. He lifted his head to the starlit sky, as though searching for something up there in the clouds. After a while he turned and gazed at Jack. Blue-gray eyes. Glistening like moonstones in the dark.

“Son,” he said. “If you need help, you oughta tell me.”

Jack swallowed. He felt as if he was floating. He felt like a feather. He was cold and he shuddered and wondered if Mom was cold too, under all that snow.

“Comes a time most folks need a break,” Doyle said.

Jack looked away. Branches rustled high in the tall old pine by the barn, and he saw an owl drop low, searching for something to snatch up, to tear bloody. He looked back at Doyle.

“Thanks for stoppin’ by.”

Doyle’s eyes searched him a moment. Those eyes saw hidden things. Only God knew what.

He tipped his hat and turned and crossed the driveway to the police truck. Jack watched him get in. Watched the door shut and the engine start up and the lights flare bright. The truck wallowed through the snow and onto the roadway. The taillights continued on down the road until they disappeared into the waiting darkness.

He crashed up the porch steps and into the house. His throat was hurting. He threw the light switch, but the power was gone. The living room felt cold as a coffin, and he could see his own breath. In the black dark, he whispered Matty’s name but heard nothing.

He lurched to the kitchen, holding out his hands in front of him, and found the cupboard above the sink. He opened it and fumbled for a flashlight and thumbed down the button. Dull yellow light soaked a hole in the dark. He could not see Matty. He held out the light.