Once in Every Life

A particularly large drop landed in her eye. She wiped the wetness away with her sleeve and blinked.

A flash of yellow winked at her from the grass. Sliding off the swing, she plopped onto the ground and crawled through the wet grass.

The wilted, broken dandelion crown lay forgotten in the weeds.

She picked up the linked flowers in cold, shaking hands. The bright yellow blurred before her tear-filled eyes. She held it to her chest, smelling the strong, familiar scent of dandelions and grass and rain.

She tried to be brave and strong for the girls and Caleb and Jack, tried to swallow her tears and force her mind away from the pain. But she couldn't do it. Not this time.

And so, kneeling in the wet grass, alone, with a bunch of silly, wilted flowers plastered to her breast, Tess let herself cry. She cried until her throat was raw and her

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eyes burned, until her chest ached and her legs were icy cold.

She cried until she had no more tears to cry. Then, sniffling hard, wiping her bloodshot eyes, she clambered to her feet and walked slowly into the house.

She felt better then. Stronger. Ready to figure out a way to get Jack out of jail.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Tess was out of breath by the time she reached the Hannah farm. She skidded to a halt and concentrated on breathing normally as she walked toward the small house. Rain drizzled from the clouds overhead, sliding down the pitched roof and plunking on the weathered planks of the porch.

Be calm, Tess. Be calm.

Grasping her linsey-woolsey skirt,

she climbed the wooden steps and rapped sharply on the front door. There was a rush of shuffling feet from inside the house, then suddenly the door was whisked open. Minerva stood in the doorway.

She smiled immediately. "Why, Lissa, what a pleasant surprise."

Tess tried to keep her voice from trembling. "Not so pleasant, Minerva."

Minerva frowned. "Come in."

"Thanks." Tess swept into the small, neat kitchen and sat down at the table.

Minerva went directly to the stove, poured two cups of coffee, and set one down in front of Tess, then took a seat herself. "So, what's the matter?"

For a minute Tess couldn't talk. She curled her fingers around the dented tin cup and took a deep breath.

"Jack ..." She glanced away, unable to say anything. 366

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Minerva reached across the table and laid her hand on Tess's. "Jack what?"

She swallowed thickly, tasting bitter, unshed tears. "He thinks he killed the Dwyers."

Minerva gasped quietly, but didn't withdraw her hand.

"He didn't do it, of course, but he's so afraid...."

Minerva set her coffee cup down with a clank. "Of what?"

Tess forced her gaze up. "He had a ... bad experience in the war, and he can't forget it. That's why the fireworks set him off. The sound makes him remember things he'd rather forget, and he goes a little ... crazy. But he'd never hurt anyone."

Minerva studied Tess for a long, thoughtful moment.