“I like Elaine,” Sam said.

“I do too. She’s a nice lady,” Libby said.

Jeff grinned as he reached for a glass of milk. “She bought us Power Ranger costumes for Halloween. I’m the Black Ranger.”

“I’m the Red Ranger,” Sam said, sitting up straighter and grinning.

“You’re both going to be awesome Power Rangers,” Libby said.

“Boys, if you two have eaten, why don’t you have a Popsicle outside?”

“Can I have an orange one?” Sam asked.

Margaret moved to the freezer, pulled out two large Popsicles, and pointed to the door. “Outside.”

The boys scurried off their seats and, after grabbing their treats, ran out the side door toward the big oak tree. Margaret stood at the screen door, and when she was sure they were settled for at least the next few minutes, she turned toward Libby.

Libby removed the picture of Olivia and Sadie. “Did you ever hear of Sadie Thompson?”

Margaret took the photo from Libby and stared at it a long time. “I haven’t seen too many pictures of her from around this time. I heard she was a little wild, and I guess looking at this picture, I can see why folks might think that.”

“You knew her?”

“Her father and brothers were farmers. The father passed in the late thirties. The boys got work at the same machine shop, but neither lasted that long. The oldest, Danny, went into the army in ’38 and was shipped to North Africa and Italy. Johnny was army and landed in Europe.”

“Did they survive the war?”

“They did. Of course, no one came back the same.” Margaret was silent but finally said, “Sadie stayed behind with her mother. She always dreamed of leaving Bluestone, and there was a time when she had a job working for the Carter family. Miss Olivia told me Sadie drove her around, teaching her how to drive and helping her plant in the greenhouse.”

“What happened to Sadie?”

“Why do you want to know about Sadie so badly?”

“I think whatever happened to her influenced Olivia. And that dictated what happened with Elaine and ultimately me.”

Margaret continued to gaze at the picture of Sadie. “That poor girl didn’t have a chance.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

SADIE

Monday, March 15, 1943

Bluestone, Virginia

The truck’s radiator was spewing steam by the time Sadie pulled up to her mother’s house. Her heart hammered against her ribs, doing its best to rip right out of her body. She grabbed the supplies and hurried into the house.

“Mama!” She dumped the box of milk and syrup on the table. “Mama!”

Her mother hurried out of the side bedroom, holding her hands up. “Shh. I just got the baby to sleep. If she wakes up now, we’ll hear about it for the rest of the day.”

“Mama, I’m in trouble.” Sadie pressed her hand to her side, trying to calm the pain knotting her belly.

Her mother moved toward her as her face turned ashen. “What have you done, child?”

“I saw him in town. I saw him. And he treated me like I was nothing but dirt under his feet.”

“What do you mean by him?”

Sadie pointed to the bedroom where the child slept. “I mean the man that gave me that.”

“That is a child,” her mother said sternly.

Sadie turned back to her mother, unable to dig up any maternal feelings. “Well, it’s his child.”

“Please tell me you didn’t tell him about the baby.”

“No. I didn’t tell him. Fat lot it would have done. He’d have denied her and called me a whore for having her.”

“What did you do?” Her mother’s voice dropped to a bare whisper, as if the sheriff were standing right outside their doorstep.

When she looked back at what had happened, it felt like a terrible dream. The devil himself had gotten in her brain and taken control for a split second. “I hit him with the truck.”

“What do you mean you hit him?” her mother demanded.

Sadie ran her hands through her hair, knowing they would lock her away for years whether he lived or died. “I hit him with the truck. I ran him down.”

“Is he dead?”

Images of the twisted body in the street rushed her, and even now she was not sorry for what she had done. She sure feared the consequences, but she was not sorry, even if it meant eternal hell for her soul. “He was in bad shape at best.”

“Who is he? Do you know his name?”

She swallowed the tightness banding her throat. “Malcolm Carter.”

Her mother’s face contorted with fear. “A Carter. Good Lord, you tangled with a Carter.”

“I should never have trusted him,” she rushed to say. “But he had been polite and acted like a complete gentleman when I met him at Woodmont. And I ran into him at the dance, where he was so nice at first. But when we were alone, he changed, Mama. He didn’t listen when I told him to stop.”

“I heard you sneak out that night, and I should have run after you. But I thought, what harm would it be for you to have a little fun?” Her mother’s mouth hardened into a grim line. “Did you kill him?”

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t get out of the car and check on him. I kept on driving.”

“And folks saw this?”

“Mr. Sullivan for sure.”

Her mother curled her fingers into fists. She stared at her child as if she did not recognize her. “Get a bag packed.”

“What am I going to do? If Johnny or Danny were here, they would know what to do.”

“There’s nothing they could do for you now. You hurt, maybe killed, a Carter, and in this county there’s no coming back. They’ll see to it that you spend the rest of your life in jail.”

Her mother hurried into the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and fished around the back until she found a red, white, and blue tobacco tin. She pried off the top and pulled out several one-dollar bills. “You’re going to take this and get in that truck and drive, and you aren’t going to stop until you get to Charlottesville.”

“I’m not taking your money.”

Her mother pressed it into her hand and curled her fingers into a tight fist over the bills. “Yes, you will.”

“What about the baby?”

“She’ll stay with me. Maybe there’ll be a time when you can send for her. But for now, you can’t run with a screaming baby.”

Outside the distant roar of a car engine had her mother running to the window. “Whoever it is, is coming up the mountain. Go now! Don’t worry about clothes.”

“Mama, I’m scared.”

Her mother hugged her close. “Run!”

All her life she had dreamed of leaving Bluestone. But she had never figured she would be chased off like a rabid dog. “The sheriff will find me.”

Her mother pulled her out of the house, toward the truck. “Not if you go now and get on a train and go as far as this money will take you.”

“I can’t take that money. That’s all you got saved from the piecework.”

“You can. And you will.” Her mother hugged her close. “I love you, baby girl.”