of his head fall into her hands. “And the boat slowly carried the boy across the emerald water.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him snug. “And into the land of sleep.” Willow glanced toward the kitchen and held Melody’s gaze. She lifted him onto the pillow and covered him with a throw.
There was a tentative knock at the door.
Willow stepped forward and opened it. Len hadn’t washed up from the afternoon’s work. He wore a stripe of pine sap across one cheekbone and clutched a full paper sack in both arms. “I forgot to give these to you.” He extended it toward her. “Your library books.”
Willow opened the door wider and motioned him forward.
He hesitated. “Is something wrong?”
Willow leaned toward him to take the books and said something softly.
Len swallowed. He looked stricken.
Willow led him into the kitchen. “Hey, Len,” Johnny Appleseed said, and Ruth and Melody nodded.
Len’s voice was gravelly. “I’ll take him tomorrow.”
Ruth gave a small cry, and her hand flew to cover her mouth.
The color drained from Melody’s face. “What?”
Len’s gaze darted from her face to Willow’s and back again. “I thought—”
“Is there a family for him?” Ruth asked.
“No, but—”
Melody shot Willow a look and turned her back to them. She shook her hands, thinking. Her shoulders rose and fell with each breath. When she turned again, her mouth was set in a resolute line. Len’s jaw dropped. Melody watched him glance quickly at Willow and the others. Was it that obvious? Panic, but she was fending that off. “Fine,” Melody said. “He’ll start sleeping in the barn.” Her voice quavered slightly. “What the hell, right? While Johnny’s gone, Wrecker can stay up there with me.” She glanced at Ruth. “You’ll help me get it ready?”
“Of course,” Ruth murmured.
“I’ll spend tomorrow with him,” Johnny said. “Give you some time to prepare.”
Melody nodded. Her right hand started flicking, but she stilled it by gripping a chair, pulling it out from the table. “Sit,” she told Len. “Eat.”
Len was in no position to argue.
“Give it up, already,” Melody said. Ruth was starting to irritate her, apologizing, trying to make amends. They were rigging a makeshift wall in the barn loft to prevent the kid from pitching over the side. They had already commandeered a mattress for him and rearranged the space to make room for it. “It’s fine for him to be here. I said so. Let’s just go over the instructions once more.”
If he choked. If he fell down the steps. If he broke a limb. If he needed to pee in the night. If he wanted a glass of water. If he spit where he shouldn’t. If he couldn’t get to sleep. If he woke up in the night and she couldn’t calm him. There were a thousand things that could go wrong, and Melody wanted to be prepared. At least he was small enough for her to throw him over her shoulder and run for help.
Everything would be okay, Ruth assured her. He was a good boy.
And if he got under her skin?
The truth was, things were getting out of hand. No one knew how long it was going to take for Len to work out some permanent arrangement for the kid, and the longer he was there—well, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the longer he stayed, the more at home he’d make himself. And the more he’d weasel his way into their affections.
Weasel? Wrong animal. This boy was a dog straight up and down, though it pained Melody to admit it, bothered her that a person—especially a kid, way too young to have figured out what kind of persona to move in through the world—a person could be so completely what they were. He had a doglike way of attaching himself to any person who fed him or made him feel good, and a way of muscling through the world that was as much like a dog as any other animal Melody could think of. He ran directly at things, stopped to smell them, tested their resistance to his enthusiastic battering, and ran directly on. He was interested in everything, fearless and physically skilled enough to engage in nearly any activity he could think up—enough so that Melody and Johnny Appleseed and certainly Ruth, who hadn’t the advantage of youth, wore themselves out worrying over his safety. He was different with Willow; quieter, better behaved. Melody understood this. She loved Willow’s arch wit and prodigious intelligence