Adams shoves in another mouthful of food. “Mornin’, MissAbigail. Ain’t your daddy’s funeral today?”
“I’m on my way to the cemetery now. I just came to check in on Gracie. I mean ... MissDoherty.”
“She ain’t supposed to have no visitors.”
“I brought her somethin’ I been meaning to give her. That’s all.”
“What is it?”
I peer through the bars as Abby pulls a rolled-up piece of paper from her dress pocket. She unrolls it and hands it to the deputy. “It’s just a star map. I reckon she can see a scrap of night sky from her cell. Might help her pass the time.”
Adams rolls it back up and hands it to Abby. “Fine. You got two minutes, girl. Lemme pat you down, though, first.”
Abby raises her arms as Adams pats her up and down, taking his time around her bosom. I glare at him.
“That’s enough, Jimmy,” Abby says, crossing her arms over her chest.
Adams gives a stiff nod. “Two minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
She rushes toward me, her eyes shining with tears. “Gracie, ain’t they feedin’ you?”
“Nope. Hardly a crumb.” Adams has gone back to his breakfast, his back to us, fat rolls hanging over the top of his pants.
Abby follows my gaze and shakes her head. She leans close to the bars, and I take her hand, just long enough to squeeze her fingers. “I’m real sorry about your daddy.”
She nods. A tear breaks loose and traces down her face. “It was peaceful as it could be.”
“Still ...”
“Yeah.” She swipes at her eyes.
“I wish I could have been there with you. Wish I could be there today when they lay him under.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be all right.”
“I know you will be. You’re a mountain girl, Abby. We’re made tough.”
Her lip trembles. “I reckon.”
“How’s Granny? Caro?”
“Aunt Ebba’s still there, keepin’ watch. I called on them yesterday. Doc Gallagher came up, checked on your granny while I was there. She’s doing good. Still asleep, but stable.”
Relief floods through me. “I’m glad for that. Caro?”
“Feisty. That girl has a mouth on her, don’t she?”
I grin. “The only thing she got from her mama, ’sides that shock of red hair.”
“Val’s gone plumb crazy. Out hollerin’ on the square, preaching louder than Bellflower.”
I roll my eyes. “Figures.”
“I got something for you.” Abby squats and pulls something from her shoe, fast as lightning. “Seth Cornelison came up to the lighthouse. Him and his family are moving out west. To Montana. He drew that star map he promised you, and said he wanted you to have it.” She hands me the rolled-up paper she showed the deputy, but now there’s something inside it. I sneak a quick glance. It’s a carpenter’s nail set, sharpened to a point. That must have been what she had in her shoe. I furtively stash it inside my brassiere just before Adams turns around.
“You’ve had enough time, girl,” Adams barks.
