The sooner the mister went out on his trip and came back, the sooner Molly supposed Mrs. Gooddell would come to her senses. Or at least as close to her senses as she ever came. There was something never quite right about the missus. She acted nice and polite enough most of the time, but her eyes were always darting about like she was looking for a way out. Molly couldn't imagine what could make a body so jittery. She thought once again about bringing Mrs. Gooddell out here. Among the pretty flowers, the missus might feel safe enough to relax.
Molly breathed in another lungful of the air, letting it wash through her. When she closed her eyes, she imagined taking Reverend Crane here, walking hand-in-hand through the grass. He stops to pick one of the flowers and gives it to her. She tucks it into her hair as he leans forward to kiss her. "I love you," he says.
"But Reverend, if anyone found out-"
"I don't care. I can't hold back my love for you any longer. I simply must have you, Molly. Right here. Tonight," he says. He unbuttons her dress. Then he takes her into his arms and eases her down among the soft grass. The perfume of the flowers mixes with that of the reverend-
Someone tramping through the grass nearby broke Molly's spell. She opened her eyes to find the night sky looking down on her. Oh no, the mister and missus are going to be so angry with me, she thought. Mr. Gooddell is probably looking for me.
She lifted her head to see not Mr. Gooddell searching for her, but the stowaway creeping through the grass away from the camp. Molly flattened herself on the grass so the boy wouldn't see her unless he happened to walk right on her. What's he doing here? she wondered.
Molly had heard Mrs. Bloom and Miss Baker tell Mrs. Applegate about a red-haired stowaway. Molly bristled at first, thinking they were referring to her. When they mentioned he called himself Wendell, she relaxed. This Wendell had almost killed Mrs. Bloom and then locked both young women up during the meeting. No one had seen him since, but Mr. Pendleton said Wendell was a no-good thief and liar and they were all better off if he never came back.
She followed Wendell with her eyes as he disappeared into the forest, carrying something in his hands. He must have sneaked back into the camp to steal something from some poor person. Maybe he had killed someone. She ought to go down and check on the mister and missus in case they were hurt. But then again, if she came back now they would be angry with her for disappearing for hours.