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mean it that way.’’
    A harsh laugh cut through the gentle night sounds. ‘‘Oh, I think you did, Annie. Everything here—it’s all yours. Your daddy left it all to you, and you’re always callin’ it yours. Never ours.’’ He pointed his finger at her. ‘‘But those kids, they’re mine, too. And don’t you forget it.’’
    ‘‘How could I forget it? Of course the girls are yours. Just like this new one’s yours.’’
    ‘‘It better be.’’ The growling tone held an undercurrent that made the fine hairs on Anna Mae’s neck stand up.
    Anger swelled in her breast. How dare he make such an accusation? ‘‘Harley, that was uncalled for.’’
    He didn’t apologize, just turned his back and stared into the gray without speaking. His stubborn position made Anna Mae even angrier. She yanked up his pillow and whopped him across his obstinate back. She knew it didn’t hurt him, but it got his attention.
    ‘‘Anna Mae.’’ A warning rumble.
    She ignored the tone and railed at him. ‘‘I’m not the one running off to some supposed castle-building site halfway across the state. If anyone ought to be worried about somebody being unfaithful, it should be me.’’
    He jumped up so fast the mattress springs twanged for a solid fifteen seconds. He stormed to the door, flung it open, and thumped down the hallway. Anna Mae heard the kitchen door squeak open, then thud shut. A second, softer bang—the porch door—followed.
    It occurred to her he was marching around the yard in nothing but his underdrawers. The thought should have been funny. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t funny at all. She buried her face in her pillow and allowed the tears she’d squelched earlier to come back full force. I’m so mixed up, God. We never fought like this before the rains stopped coming. Is this drought going to steal everything I care about?

5
    H ARLEY AWAKENED TO BIRDSONG . Cardinal, probably, judging by the trill. He yawned, stretching, and the back of his hand encountered something scratchy. Like hay.
    Hay?
    He popped his eyes open and sat up. In the murky predawn light, he made out the stall walls surrounding his makeshift bed. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to make sense of his location. Why was he in the barn? Then it all flooded back—Annie, the baby, their fight . . .
    With a groan, he dropped backward against the rough blanket thrown over a pile of hay. Regret filled his middle when he remembered what he’d said. Of course the baby was his—Annie was too religious to break any laws of that Bible she spent so much time reading. He shouldn’t’ve been so hateful, what with her carrying a child. Women got moody when they carried a child—he’d already been through it twice with her. Why’d he let himself get so upset last night?
    Annie’s words haunted his memory. ‘‘My baby.’’ That was why he got so upset. Would anything ever belong to him?
    As a boy, sharecropping with his pa, he’d owned little more than the clothes he wore. He’d realized early that those who worked their own land were better off than those working for somebody else, and he’d made the decision that he’d be a landowner someday. Well, in the eyes of the law he was. By marrying Annie right after her daddy’s death, he’d become owner of the Elliott land. But if you asked Annie? Nope. This was her land, her house, her barn, her mules—and, according to what she’d said last night, her babies growing up on her farm.
    Bending his legs, he rested his elbows on his widespread knees, letting his head droop low. Well, when he left, she’d have a chance to see how it felt to have everything be hers. Might even be good for her to figure out she wasn’t as self-sufficient as she thought. Of course, there were lots of women managing on their own, with all the men traipsing off in search of work. Or traipsing off to escape their responsibilities.
    But Harley wasn’t one of those men. He fully recognized his responsibilities. Pushing to