Page 99 of The Unmaking of June Farrow

I’m at the Midsummer Faire.

Laughter drifts through the syrupy air, and I smile when I see Margaret’s and Esther’s faces push through the crowd.

Margaret is out of breath, her face flushed from dancing. “Where’s Eamon?”

“At the house,” I answer. “Callie’s gotten out again.”

She frowns, eyes dropping to my shoulder. “You want me to take her?”

I glance down, just registering the warm, heavy weight I’m carrying. A small Annie is propped on my hip, her legs dangling and her arms curled into me. She’s asleep on my chest.

“That’s okay,” I say, thinking that I like this feeling, even though my arms are aching. I’ve been holding her for more than an hour.

Esther is already tying a scarf around her head. “You girls ready?”

We follow her out to the truck, the sound of the Faire bleeding away behind us, and we drive with the windows down. There’s a pastel sunset just beginning to gather over the mountains, and the fireflies are blinking when we pull up to the flower farm.

By the time we’re out of the truck, Annie is awake, hopping up and down the steps barefoot while we eat cake. We talk about the tobacco harvest and an overdue trip to Asheville, and then I’m scooping Annie up into my arms again. I want to make it home before dark.

“Sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Esther asks from her rocking chair.

I look at Annie, who’s pulling one of the ribbons from her hair. The cake is like catnip, and it will have her up late if I don’t get some of her energy out.

“No, it’s a good night for a walk,” I say.

It’s not quite twilight. The bugs in the flower fields are loud as we make our way to the back corner of the land, and Annie skips ahead of me on the overgrown path until we reach the river. There’s a small footbridge that serves as a shortcut through these fields, but it’s not even in sight when she stops to inspect a giant silk moth that’s clung to the trunk of a nearby tree. I sink down beside her, letting my finger come beneath its furry legs, and it climbs on, wings fluttering.

I hold it between us, and Annie’s honey brown eyes widen in wonder, making me smile.

It’s moments like these that I’m afraid to miss. It’s moments like these that make me sure about what I have to do.

The moth takes off, teetering in the air as it flies away, and Annie watches it go. The water of the river is a glowing blue now, ready to fall dark in the next hour.

“Evening, Mrs. Stone.”

The southern-sweet voice is slippery in the dimming light, but I immediately recognize it. I’ve heard it pouring from the open doors of the church many times. I’ve heard it in my nightmares.

I turn to see Nathaniel Rutherford standing on the path at the top ofthe riverbank. His nice suit is pressed, his hat in his hands, and even from here, I can see the shine of his boots. I hadn’t seen him at the Faire, but I’d felt his presence. Somehow, he always seemed to be near. Watching.

I swallow hard. This isn’t the first time I’ve found him on Esther’s farm. But that feverish gaze that hovers behind his eyes is fixed on me, and tonight, it feels a little more crazed.

Did he follow us?

There’s a moment when a prick of fear climbs up my spine, and I’m suddenly reaching out to put a protective hand on Annie. We’re too far from the house to be heard if I call out, I realize.

“I think it’s about time we talk,” he says, taking a step off the path.

“We’re on our way home. Eamon’s expecting us.”

He smiles, as if amused, but his eyes are still flat and dead. When he takes another step, it’s a little unsteady, and it occurs to me that he’s been drinking.

“For we know him that hath said, ‘Vengeance belongeth unto me,’ ” Nathaniel begins. “ ‘I will recompense,’ saith the Lord. And again, the Lord shall judge his people.”

My pulse quickens when he moves again, coming slowly down the bank toward us.

“We really do need to get back. Have a good night, Mr. Rutherford.” I take Annie’s hand and try to step past him, but he moves faster, blocking me.

I look around us, not sure what to do. There’s no easy way to get past him, especially with Annie in my arms, and though the river is crossable, it’s deep. What if the current is too strong? What if she slips from my arms and I lose her under the water?