They walked back toward the house. As they approached, Pim appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were very wide.

Something is happening, she signed.

The room was cool and dark. Only Dory’s face was showing; the rest was covered by boiled clothes.

“Mrs. Tatum,” Kate said, “can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

Staring at the ceiling, the woman seemed completely unaware of them. A remarkable change had occurred. Remarkable, but also disturbing. The harsh appearance of the burns on her face had softened. Their color was now pinkish, almost dewy; in other patches, her skin was white as talc. Dory shifted slightly in her bed, exposing her left hand and forearm from under the cloths. Before, it had been a gruesome claw of cooked flesh. In its stead was a recognizable human hand—blisters gone, charred bits flaked off to reveal skin of rosy newness beneath.

Kate looked up at Pim. How long has she been awake?

She wasn’t. That just happened.

“Mrs. Tatum,” Kate said, more commandingly, “I’m a doctor. You’ve been in a fire. You’re at the Jaxons’ farm; Caleb and Pim are with me. Do you remember what happened?”

Her gaze, wandering the room in a desultory fashion, located Kate’s face.

“Fire?” she murmured.

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“That’s right, there was a fire at your house.”

“Ask her if she knows what started it,” Caleb said.

“Fire,” Dory repeated. “Fire.”

“Yes, what do you remember about the fire?”

Pim stepped forward and knelt by the bed. She gently lifted Dory’s exposed hand, placed the tip of her index finger in the woman’s palm, and began to form letters.

“Pim,” Dory said.

But that was all; the light in her eyes faded. She closed them again.

“Caleb, I’m going to examine her,” Kate said. Then, to Pim: Stay and help.

Caleb waited in the kitchen. The children, mercifully, were still asleep. A few minutes passed, and the women appeared.

Kate gestured to the back door. Let’s talk outside.

The light had shifted toward evening. “What’s happening to her?” Caleb asked, signing simultaneously.

“She’s getting better, that’s what.”

“How is that possible?”

“If I knew, I’d bottle it. The burns are still bad—she’s not out of the woods yet. But I’ve never seen anybody heal so fast. I thought the shock alone would kill her.”

“What about her waking up like that?”

“It’s a good sign, her recognizing Pim. I don’t think she understood much else, though. She may never.”

“You mean she’ll stay like this?”

“I’ve seen it happen.” Kate addressed her sister directly: You should stay with her. If she wakes up again, try to get her talking.

What about?

Easy stuff. Keep her mind off the fire for now.

Pim returned to the house.

“This changes things,” Caleb said.

“I agree. We may be able to move her sooner than I thought. Do you think you can find a vehicle in Mystic?”

He recalled the pickup he’d seen in Elacqua’s yard.

Kate seemed surprised. “Brian Elacqua?”

“That’s him.”

“That drunken old cuss. I’d wondered what had become of him.”

“That was pretty much my experience of the man.”

“Still, I’m sure he’d help us.”

Caleb nodded. “I’ll ride in in the morning.”

Sara was waiting on the porch with their bags when Hollis appeared, sitting atop a sorry-looking mare. With him was a man Sara didn’t know, riding a second horse, a black gelding with a back as bowed as a hammock and ancient, runny eyes.

“What’s this I see?” Sara said. “Oh, two of the worst horses I ever laid eyes on.”

The two men dismounted. Hollis’s companion was a squat-looking man wearing overalls but no shirt. His hair was long and white; there was something cunning in his face. Hollis and the man exchanged a few words, shook hands, and the man walked off.

“Who’s your friend?” Sara asked.

Hollis was tying the horses to the porch rail. “Just somebody I knew in the old days.”

“Husband, I thought we talked about a truck.”

“Yeah, about that. Turns out a truck costs actual money. Also, there’s no gas to be had. On the upside, Dominic threw in the tack for free, so we are not, technically, one hundred percent penniless at the moment.”




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