If You Believe

"I dont know if he can love me back. I . . . I dont think he can. "

Rass smiled sadly. "We never know that, Boo. "

Mariah glanced at him sharply. Emotion tightened her throat. "You havent called me that in years. "

Sadness filled his eyes. "I should have. "

Mariah swallowed hard and stared at him.

"You know what I think?" He leaned toward her. "I think he could love you, too. "

"If he stays. " She said the three terrifying words aloud.

Rasss smile faded. Slowly, tiredly, he leaned back against the porch swing. Even Rass, the eternal optimist, couldnt pretend to have an answer for that one. "If he stays. "

With that, they lapsed back into silence.

Mad Dog dried himself off and stepped out of the shower. Whistling softly, he wrapped the towel around his waist and headed for the steamy mirror.

Anticipation shivered through him. Mariah had made good on her promise; shed found a way to give them some time alone. Jake was harnessing Cleo right now. Any minute, Rass and the boy would be leaving for town.

Still smiling, he reached for Rasss razor and started to shave. Outside, someone screamed.

Mad Dog dropped the fancy pearl-handled razor. It clattered in the porcelain sink.

He yanked the towel away from his body and grabbed his blue jeans, stabbing his feet into the pants as he hopped to the door and ran down the hall. Breathing hard, half-dressed, he burst outside.

He saw the farm in a series of horrible images: Marian, on her knees in the dirt; Rass sprawled on the ground; Jake, staring at Mad Dog with tears streaming down his face.

"Oh, Jesus. " The quiet words slipped past his lips as he bounded down the steps and raced across the yard.

"Rass, Rass!" Marians shrill, desperate voice filled the silent air. She clutched her fathers shoulders, shaking him hard. "Wake up. " Her voice broke off into nothingness.

Mad Dog kneeled beside her, touched her shoulder. "What happened?"

She jerked toward him, staring up through huge, terrified eyes. "He just. . .

collapsed. " She brought a hand to her mouth, as if speaking the words made it more real. "Oh, God . . . "

Mad Dog reached for the old mans wrist. "Theres a pulse," he said. Relief washed through him. "Hes still alive. "

Beside him, Marian made a sobbing sound.

He squeezed her shoulder lightly, then scooped Rass into his arms. The old may lay limp and lifeless, his head lolled back. "Get a blanket," he said to Mariah.

She sat there, stiff as a statue, her head bowed, her hands curled into shaking fists in her lap. Her eyes were dull and vacant.

"Mariah!" he yelled at her.

Through a fog of fear and terror, Mariah heard Mad Dog yelling at her. With great effort, she lifted her chin. "Uh-huh?"

"Go get some blankets. Now!"

She snapped out of her incomprehensive state and spun away from him, racing into the house. She thundered up the stairs and barreled into her bedroom, snatching the blankets from her bed. Wadding them against her chest, she plunged back down the stairs and ran outside.

Rass was lying in the buggys backseat, his lifeless, blue-veined hands folded against his chest.

"Oh, God . . . " Mariah made a choked, garbled sound of horror and skidded to a stop. The blankets fell from her numb hands and whooshed to the ground in a heap of white.