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again on Monday for business. His brother is away at least as often, which means Jane is alone much of the time and on an unpredictable basis. Her companion, Rosa Hillyard, who divides her time between Jane and two nieces, is currently away. “I’ll go take a cookie out to Willie,” Tommie says.
    “Oh, he’s liable to be way off by the river now. He’s looking at some woods to buy. Time he gets through he’ll’ve chopped down every tree in the county. Are you sure something’s not troubling you?”
    Tommie says no. He stands, scratches the back of his neck, and goes to the window to see if Willie is coming.
    “There was an article in the paper about a man in California found with his head chopped off,” Jane tells him. “Two Indians did it for eight dollars apiece and buried the head seventy-five miles away. And there was another one about a man right up in Richmond who hanged himself and went to change his mind, but his daughter couldn’t get him down in time—”
    “Thanks, Jane, I’m not in the mood for news right now.”
    She chuckles. “I was only trying to get your mind off your problems. Maybe you need to hear something more cheerful.”
    Again, he envisions concentric ripples on the water. “I think I’ll go for a walk. Did you see a girl in a white dress out in the front yard before I came in?”
    Jane says she didn’t, but that it could be one of the neighbor’s cousins, visiting from Gloucester. He goes outside and walks along the cornfield, shielding his eyes with his hurt hand and scanning the long afternoon shadows for what he can see.
    When he gets to the Trace and looks down the road that leads to the river, his brother appears on horseback, as if summoned. They wave to each other, and for a moment Tommie feels safe again. He stands there waiting while Willie’s bay takes its time. After he crosses the road, Willie dismounts and they walk together to the house. “You just get home?”
    Tommie nods. “A little while ago.”
    Willie is taller and broader in the shoulders than his brother, his skin more tanned. Tommie’s features are the more delicate and symmetrical, his lips the envy of many a girl. Willie’s thin line of a mouth barely hides a snaggletooth, yet his rugged good looks have served him plenty well. He wears a wide-brimmed straw hat and dirty boots; a spear of meadowsweet hangs from his mouth. His eyes are dark and deep set and he pauses to think before he speaks. “Find any business up there?”
    “I looked into that acreage for sale in the bankrupt court out near Oakwood Cemetery for Mr. Bray.”
    Willie strokes his horse but doesn’t say anything.
    “You remember I told you about that,” Tommie says.
    “Yeah, you find any good timber up there, let me know. If it’s cheap.”
    “What’s the matter?”
    “Not a thing in the world, brother.” They walk a few more steps in silence. “You’re seeing somebody up there, aren’t you?” Now a sly smile creases Willie’s face.
    “What makes you say that?” Tommie sighs in relief. Then he has the distinct feeling that he is being watched by someone.
    “You seemed all nervous and flustered before you left. I had to lend you a collar—how often has that happened? And you went off unshaven.”
    “I got a shave in Richmond.”
    “And you come back looking like a cat got you.” At first Tommie doesn’t understand; Willie has not even appeared to glance at him.
    “You mean the hand? It’s nothing. An eruption of some kind.”
    “Well I hope whoever it is is worth the trouble. You’ve been in a botheration for I don’t know how long. She’s not married is she?”
    Tommie snorts. “The only women I see in Richmond are at Lizzie Banks’s house, and I haven’t been there in months.”
    “You’re not still keen on Lillie are you?”
    “Lillie Madison?”
    “You know who I mean. Yes, cousin Lillie.”
    Tommie waits but Willie says nothing, and the sound of high laughter comes so clearly from behind that