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. it still boggled his mind when he thought about it. Brie was a detective these days, and a damn good one, according to her. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Brie was special
    . . . Another time, another place . . .

    It was the summer Brie turned six and Bode himself turned nine, when a catastrophe of sorts happened that set the tone for their relationship in the years to follow.
    It was a bright, sunshiny day without a cloud in the sky when Sela and Brie arrived with Mrs. Canfield, who all but pushed the girls from the car in her hurry to get back to town. Brie dawdled, her sandal-shod feet digging in the sandy ground. Holding hands with Callie, Bode had run to the gate to meet them. Callie tugged at Brie’s arm as Bode stood to the side listening to Sela. As young as he was, he could see that both Brie and Sela needed a bath and to have their hair brushed. They were both wearing the same dresses they’d worn the day before and the day before that. Breakfast was ready—golden scrambled eggs, extra crisp bacon, and a mountain of toast spread with butter and jam. Pearl rang the breakfast bell. As one, the children looked in the direction of the back porch, then at Bode, who dropped to a crouch so Brie could get on his back. He counted to three, and they all galloped toward the house. Pearl was mixing Hershey’s chocolate into big glasses of milk when the children sat down at the table and unfolded their napkins.
    “It’s not ’portant,” Callie pouted.
    “Is so,” Sela insisted.
    “It makes you special,” Bode said.
    Brie cried quiet tears as she munched on her toast.
    “Tonight when you go to sleep the Tooth Fairy will leave you a present. She left me one when my front teeth fell out,” Bode lied with a straight face.
    “Will she leave me one, too?” Callie demanded.
    “Probably so,” Bode said, “but not till your teeth fall out.”
    “My mama said I look ugly with no teeth and all the freckles on my face. Mamas don’t lie. I don’t want to be ugly; I want to be pretty like my mama,” Brie said.
    “You are pretty. Look at us, we don’t have freckles so that makes you special. Isn’t that true, Mama Pearl?” Bode turned to her for help.
    Pearl’s eyes rolled back in her head as she slapped the dishrag against the hot frying pan. “That’s right, Miz Brie. The Lord gave you freckles so’s other people can see them. They match your curls. That makes it real special. When your new teeth come in they’re going to look like real pearls. You listen to me now and don’t you be crying.”
    “Yes’m,” Brie said, choking off her fears.
    “You finish up now and scamper into that bathroom and turn on the water. Bode, you carry the dishes to the sink. Miz Callie, you fetch me two dresses and some hair ribbons. Don’t forget to bring the underwear, too.” The children separated and met later on the back porch.
    There Bode set up shop and outlined the day’s agenda. “Today is going to be Brie’s day. We’re going to do whatever she wants. Tomorrow is Callie’s day and the next day is Sela’s day. It’s fair,” he said sternly.
    “Am I really special, Bode?” Brie asked.
    “Yes. First we’re all going out to the angel oak and sit down. We’re going to take turns counting your freckles. You have to sit still and hold your face like this.” He demonstrated a stretched-out look. “No laughing.”
    “Will we win a prize?” Sela asked. She had all the prizes she’d won in a paper sack in her dresser drawer.
    “Nope. Brie gets the prize because she has the freckles.”
    “I wish I had freckles,” Callie said wistfully.
    “Me, too,” Sela said.
    Brie preened as Bode started to count.
    When the freckle-counting came to an end, Brie threw her arms around Bode and said, “I love you, Bode.”
    “I love you, too,” Callie said.
    “I do, too,” Sela chimed in. “Do you love us even if we’re girls?”
    “Yeah,” Bode said gruffly.
    “We’re sisters,” Callie said