asked if he’d seen Anita’s niece. She described Penelope. He shook his head no and shrugged.
“I’ll sure keep an eye out,” he mumbled around the nails.
Maddie turned the mare onto the road again, leaving behind the sounds of Clement tapping a nail into a horseshoe.
As she passed the last of the homes along the road, her gaze scanned the bayou along both sides. Her tension slowly eased. The swamp, even with its innate danger at so many turns, offered silent comfort. The varied shades and depths of greens, the songs of the birds, the hum of insects, the rustle of the palmetto fronds and cypress lace calmed her jangled nerves. She took a deep breath and rode on.
Please. Let me find her.
She had no idea how to pray. Dexter hadn’t been beholden to any god and had raised his tribe to answer to no one but him. Yet in her darkest moments, Maddie always found herself seeking solace, asking for mercy, asking for help from somewhere, someone, although she had no notion of whom that might be.
Lost in her thoughts, she let the mare plod along at her own pace, unwilling to push the old nag and have it drop dead under her. Suddenly, not far from the outskirts of Clearwater, she saw aflash of color in the foliage along the road. Something unnatural to the surroundings. Something that gave her pause.
She reined in but remained in the saddle, scanning the undergrowth just beyond the road.
Nothing.
Thinking she’d been wrong, she was about to ride on when she saw it again.
There.
A flash of bright red against the green winding its way through the forest.
Silently she slipped off the mare and led her over to a willow with a broken branch. She found it strong enough to hold the reins, wrapped them quickly. Grabbing her shotgun, she began to carefully pick her way through the marsh. She brushed aside curtains of leaves, pausing now and again to scan her surroundings, to listen for the crack of a twig or the rustle of debris.
Nothing. Nothing … until she heard someone humming. Afraid of making a single sound, she crept toward the music. Within a few feet she saw it again — scarlet against the green.
She reached out, gently pushed aside an overhanging willow branch.
In a small clearing, Penelope sat on a log with her back to Maddie. She was humming “Rock-a-Bye Baby,” then softly chatting and pretending to pour tea for a rag doll seated across from her.
Maddie’s heart pounded. She took a step closer … and snapped a twig beneath her shoe. The sound was overly loud in the silence.
Without even glancing back, the child jumped to her feet and started to run. The rag doll fell face down into the decaying leaves. Maddie stepped over it as she burst into the small clearing. Holding her shotgun tight in one hand, she took off after Penelope.
The way the girl evaded her astounded Maddie. She zigged and zagged through the trees and undergrowth as if she’d been born in the swamp. But Maddie’s longer stride gave her advantage, and before they went hopelessly deep into the forest, Maddie reached out and made a grab for the child. Not only did she catchhold of the cape, but she managed to get a firm grip on the little girl’s arm.
She whipped the girl around … and stared in shock at the face of a child she didn’t recognize. Surprise loosened her grip long enough for the girl to bolt and run again. This time Maddie was close enough to grab her. She whirled the girl around and stared down into the upturned, dirt-streaked face. The hood on the cape fell back, revealing strawberry-blonde braids.
“Who are you and where did you get that cape?” Maddie demanded. It was definitely Penelope’s. There was no one in Clearwater who could afford such a well-tailored garment lined with such fine fur.
“I never stole it.” The girl stuck out her lower lip and tried to pull out of Maddie’s grasp.
“I never said you did. Where did you get it? I know it’s not yours.”
“It
is
mine.” The girl nudged the toe of her
“I’ll sure keep an eye out,” he mumbled around the nails.
Maddie turned the mare onto the road again, leaving behind the sounds of Clement tapping a nail into a horseshoe.
As she passed the last of the homes along the road, her gaze scanned the bayou along both sides. Her tension slowly eased. The swamp, even with its innate danger at so many turns, offered silent comfort. The varied shades and depths of greens, the songs of the birds, the hum of insects, the rustle of the palmetto fronds and cypress lace calmed her jangled nerves. She took a deep breath and rode on.
Please. Let me find her.
She had no idea how to pray. Dexter hadn’t been beholden to any god and had raised his tribe to answer to no one but him. Yet in her darkest moments, Maddie always found herself seeking solace, asking for mercy, asking for help from somewhere, someone, although she had no notion of whom that might be.
Lost in her thoughts, she let the mare plod along at her own pace, unwilling to push the old nag and have it drop dead under her. Suddenly, not far from the outskirts of Clearwater, she saw aflash of color in the foliage along the road. Something unnatural to the surroundings. Something that gave her pause.
She reined in but remained in the saddle, scanning the undergrowth just beyond the road.
Nothing.
Thinking she’d been wrong, she was about to ride on when she saw it again.
There.
A flash of bright red against the green winding its way through the forest.
Silently she slipped off the mare and led her over to a willow with a broken branch. She found it strong enough to hold the reins, wrapped them quickly. Grabbing her shotgun, she began to carefully pick her way through the marsh. She brushed aside curtains of leaves, pausing now and again to scan her surroundings, to listen for the crack of a twig or the rustle of debris.
Nothing. Nothing … until she heard someone humming. Afraid of making a single sound, she crept toward the music. Within a few feet she saw it again — scarlet against the green.
She reached out, gently pushed aside an overhanging willow branch.
In a small clearing, Penelope sat on a log with her back to Maddie. She was humming “Rock-a-Bye Baby,” then softly chatting and pretending to pour tea for a rag doll seated across from her.
Maddie’s heart pounded. She took a step closer … and snapped a twig beneath her shoe. The sound was overly loud in the silence.
Without even glancing back, the child jumped to her feet and started to run. The rag doll fell face down into the decaying leaves. Maddie stepped over it as she burst into the small clearing. Holding her shotgun tight in one hand, she took off after Penelope.
The way the girl evaded her astounded Maddie. She zigged and zagged through the trees and undergrowth as if she’d been born in the swamp. But Maddie’s longer stride gave her advantage, and before they went hopelessly deep into the forest, Maddie reached out and made a grab for the child. Not only did she catchhold of the cape, but she managed to get a firm grip on the little girl’s arm.
She whipped the girl around … and stared in shock at the face of a child she didn’t recognize. Surprise loosened her grip long enough for the girl to bolt and run again. This time Maddie was close enough to grab her. She whirled the girl around and stared down into the upturned, dirt-streaked face. The hood on the cape fell back, revealing strawberry-blonde braids.
“Who are you and where did you get that cape?” Maddie demanded. It was definitely Penelope’s. There was no one in Clearwater who could afford such a well-tailored garment lined with such fine fur.
“I never stole it.” The girl stuck out her lower lip and tried to pull out of Maddie’s grasp.
“I never said you did. Where did you get it? I know it’s not yours.”
“It
is
mine.” The girl nudged the toe of her
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