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his feet, he set his jaw with determination. He’d promised Annie’s daddy that this farm would be cared for, that it would stay in the family. He had to leave it for a spell, but he’d be back. Whether Annie admitted it or not, his own sweat was poured into this land, and that made it his.
    Gooseflesh broke out over his arms and legs as he left the barn and headed across the dewy ground to the house. First time he’d felt gooseflesh since he couldn’t remember when. He paused on the stoop, savoring the coolness of the morning for a few more minutes before opening the screen door and entering the porch.
    When he tugged the kitchen door open, he found Annie already at the table. The tin of saltines sat open in front of her, and she held one cracker, her hand hovering midway between the tabletop and her mouth. When she saw him, her face filled with pink, and she lowered her hand to the table.
    ‘‘Go ahead an’ eat your saltines, Annie.’’ His voice sounded croaky. He cleared his throat. ‘‘I’m gonna get dressed.’’
    She gave a slight nod, her head down. He crossed to the bedroom, dressed quickly, then turned to go back to the kitchen. But Annie stood in the bedroom doorway. She twisted her toe against the wood floor, her eyes downcast. Even in her wrinkled nightgown, with her long hair all sleep-tangled, she was beautiful. Love welled up so hard it almost choked him.
    They stood for long seconds without saying anything. He wanted her to speak first—it was always easier to respond to a conversation than start one. His heart bumped hard inside his chest as he waited. He hoped they wouldn’t fight again. Not today. Not when he’d be leaving.
    ‘‘You should say good-bye to the girls,’’ she said quietly.
    So that was how it was gonna be. Well, he wouldn’t be the one to apologize first. He nodded. ‘‘Bring ’em in here.’’
    After she’d left to wake the girls, he shimmied into his britches while he listened to the homey morning sounds of his family: Dottie’s sleep-raspy voice greeting her mother, the baby’s hiccupping cry, Annie’s sweet voice soothing Margie. He’d miss these morning sounds.
    Dottie bounced in, her hair all tousled, smelling like sweat. When he patted the bed, she clambered up and sat cross-legged beside him, her little hand on his chest.
    ‘‘Morning, Daddy,’’ she chirped, then leaned forward to give him a morning kiss.
    ‘‘Mornin’, Dottie-doll. Did you sleep good?’’
    ‘‘Uh-huh.’’
    ‘‘Good dreams?’’
    ‘‘Uh-huh.’’
    He tickled her ribs, making her squeal. Then he pulled her into a hug and kissed her hair. Annie came in carrying Margie.
    ‘‘C’mere, Margie-girl.’’ Harley held out his arms, and Margie tumbled from Annie’s arms into his. He cuddled Margie in one arm and Dottie in the other. His girls . . . Dottie was big enough he didn’t need to worry, but he hoped Margie wouldn’t forget him.
    Annie stood beside the bed, a smile on her face. It was good to see her smile again. ‘‘I’ll go get us some breakfast started.’’
    Harley nodded. Annie left the room, and Harley played pat-a-cake with Margie while talking with Dottie. ‘‘Didja like those gumdrops, Dottie?’’
    ‘‘Yeah! So did Smokey.’’
    Harley swallowed his grin. He couldn’t imagine the big barn cat chewing through the rubbery gumdrops. ‘‘Oh yeah? He eat quite a few?’’
    ‘‘No.’’ Dottie picked at her big toenail. ‘‘Only one. But he ate it for a long time.’’
    Harley nearly snorted with amusement. But Dottie didn’t care to be laughed at, so he kept it under control. ‘‘Well, it’s real nice of you to share with Ol’ Smokey.’’
    ‘‘I know.’’
    ‘‘Listen, Dottie-doll . . .’’ Margie played with his fingers, burbling to herself. He used his free arm to scoop Dottie close to his hip. ‘‘Would you like it if Daddy had money to buy you gumdrops every month?’’
    Dottie’s blue eyes widened. ‘‘Every