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Chapter Ten Life in Littlehope was smooth sailing for the first couple of weeks that I was there. I took to joining the guys on their morning run, and then we’d make breakfast before Jack and Daniel started their days and Einstein and I headed for the islands. Most nights, I tried to be back on the mainland by nine. On the rare evenings when Daniel wasn’t otherwise occupied, he and I would curl up on the couch with a movie. It felt good, and safe, and comfortable… Sort of like it had been wit...

Chapter Nine Once I’d taken Einstein out for the final walk of the night, I retired to my new room – which was more expansive than my first apartment with Michael, back in Boston. There was a full bath, a giant four-poster bed, and a nicely refinished antique bureau emptied and waiting for my things. I just shook my head when I noticed the dog bed Daniel had set in the corner for Einstein. The man was a marvel. I settled in beside Stein – who was predictably disdainful of his dog bed – and sl...

Chapter Eight July 26, 1983 Her son has a smile now that Rebecca hasn’t seen since he was a toddler. He stands tall in front of the congregation, his shoulders back, his dark eyes looking straight ahead. Others in the Church have commented on the startling resemblance between mother and child. His hair is thick, raven’s wing black like hers, and his complexion is smooth and dark, a clear indication of the Indian in their blood. In almost every way, physically Zion is a replica of his mother. ...

Chapter Seven I headed for the shower as soon as we reached Daniel’s, intent on recovering some semblance of dignity. Once there, however, I managed only about five minutes with Daniel’s top-of-the-line showerhead before the reality of Jack’s proximity wore me down. I toweled off, tried on two skirts, a dress, and several pairs of jeans before finally settling on a pair of slightly snug Gap denims, and went downstairs. Jack was listening to some bubblegum bimbo in the kitchen, the volume up l...

Chapter Six The object inside the lamb’s mouth was its heart. Once Daniel realized that I wasn’t saying anything more about my motives, he took off to search the grounds, returning with a shovel he’d found in the tool shed. With Einstein watching anxiously, he and I buried the disembodied head far from the house and returned to work. Daniel was quiet for the remainder of the afternoon, but I remembered that practiced silence from long afternoons suffering through it as a teen: He was waiting ...