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money.”
    Her mother was tying a bright red handkerchief around her hair as Sarah came down the stairs. “I packed you up a lunch. I figured you’d be out past lunchtime on your walk.”
    “Thanks, Mama. You didn’t have to do that.”
    “It was easy enough to do. I had to pack your daddy’s lunch and mine, so I went ahead and made yours, too. Now, your brother? He’s on his own.”
    Sarah laughed when her mother winked, knowing that sixteen-year-old Jack had a lunch waiting for him in the Frigidaire, as well. Eliza headed out the door with a jaunty wave, and Sarah walked to the kitchen door to watch her go. Though her mother was forty-three, she could have easily passed for thirty. She still turned heads, a fact that made Sarah’s father puff up with pride. Leaning against the doorjamb, Sarah wondered if she would ever be lucky enough to have a man look at her the way her father looked at her mother.
    After the embarrassing debacle with Paul her sophomore year, Sarah had turned her attention to her studies even more. When she finally blossomed, the boys started paying more attention. Instead of wanting her help with homework, they wanted her affection. Though she was flattered, Sarah had proven hard to impress. Her disinterest made the boys pant after her even more, a perversity that had Sarah and her best friend, Gillian Eversole, rolling their eyes.
    “The less I want to do with them, the more they want to do with me. I don’t understand it, Gilly. They’re such odd creatures,” Sarah had mused.
    “I know. With very few exceptions, men are more trouble than they’re worth.”
    Sarah smiled, knowing one of the “exceptions” the petite and perky redhead referenced was Sarah’s brother, Jack. He and Gilly were in the same class, and they’d fallen hard and fast for each other. Sarah wouldn’t be surprised if at some not-too-distant point in the future, Jack offered her friend marriage.
    Pushing away thoughts of boys, Sarah went back up to her bedroom to get dressed. She pulled on denim shorts and a striped blouse, then slipped her feet into the sturdy walking boots her father insisted she wear on her walks since the encounter with the snake.
    Back in the kitchen, she grabbed the lunch her mother had packed and set out with her book bag full of everything she’d need for the day. Taking the familiar trail, she reached the Browning-Campbell property line in less than five minutes. As she always did before crossing the line, she looked around to make sure no one was watching.
    For a long time after she’d encountered the snake, she hesitated about returning, but the peace and tranquility she felt there pulled her back. She’d set some rules, though, and had promised herself she’d adhere to them. First, she always wore boots and carried a sturdy walking stick. Second, if she was ever discovered and asked to leave, she’d do so and not return. As hard as it would be to leave the pool, she would respect the Campbells’ wishes. Third, she would never willingly do any damage, and if she did someday cause harm, she’d confess all immediately and bear the consequences.
    Mr. Campbell had died a few years earlier, right after his younger son was killed overseas. His widow had fallen ill last year and had passed away over the winter, leaving only one Campbell—Owen. Sarah had never met him. As with small towns anywhere, no one’s business seemed to truly be their own, and she had heard whispers about the mysterious Owen for what seemed like her whole life. He wasn’t much older than she was, but he’d gone to live in Laurel County for a while. When he returned, he apparently decided to live like a hermit. With that knowledge, she felt somewhat reassured that she could visit the pool without fear of reprisal.
    When she reached the secluded spot, she felt the tension in her body relax, and she laughed with the sheer pleasure of being in her favorite place in the world. She climbed up to the flat part of the