"I'd die afore I let anythin' happen to you, Miss 'Manda."

"How gallant of you." Amanda looked at Ruth. "Won't you come with us? Surely there's a box you'd like."

Ruth laughed. "I'd be more of a hindrance than a help. You've gone through so many, I'm not sure where anything is anymore. I hope you'll all excuse me. I have a few things to see to." Ruth left the room.

"I've been hearin' *bout these books," Ishmael said, looking at Amanda. "Got some good ones?"

"Amanda," Ruth enthused, "I think Ishmael should be our first library patron. You could recommend a book or two, and he could borrow them now."

"Yore the very first one, Ishy!" Ivy nudged him. "I reckon that's a right fine honor."

"Miss 'Manda, are you too busy to holp me choose a book? Won't put my nose outta joint if 'n 'tis a bad time."

"It seems a terrible waste for those books to languish in boxes when someone could be enjoying them. If you don't mind my practicing on you since I've never been a librarian, I'd appreciate working with you."

"Well, thar you have it!" Ivy beamed at her brother.

Ishmael cleared his throat. "I only got a bit o'er three years' book learnin'."

"That's three times what President Abraham Lincoln has had." Amanda folded her hands at her waist. "With only one year of schooling, he's still a remarkably well-read man."

Once Amanda and Ishmael had left, Laney squeezed both of Ivy's hands. "I think they like each other!"

"'Manda cain't holp herself. Ishy's strong and handsome. What with her bein' all on her lonesome, 'tis understandable that she'd want a man to lean on."

"We'll play Cupid!" Laney said, practically jumping up and down. "Yes, that's what we'll do."

Ivy's face fell. "I ain't niver played games afore."

"You and I are going to play matchmaker for Amanda and your brother. When you're trying to spark a romance between two people, it's called playing Cupid."

"Reckon that's a better way to spend this time of ourn than me tryin' to read. I ain't doin' too good at it."

"Nonsense! You're doing well. You're sounding out words already." Laney drew Ivy toward the table where she had paper, pencils, and a book waiting. "Besides, your lessons are going to give us all sorts of excuses to have Ishmael and Amanda work together."

"Don't see how."

"We'll have to ask them to find a book they think you'd enjoy and would be able to read."

"So we'll be killin' two birds with one stone."

"You've taken leave of your senses!" Hilda half shouted from the kitchen.

"Now, Hilda," a low voice rumbled in response.

Laney and Ivy started toward the kitchen.

"I have to be twice your age, Cowboy!"

Laney stopped so suddenly, Ivy bumped into her. A voice Laney recognized as Toledo's said slyly, "You are nowhere near eighty-four."

"Of course I'm not!" Hilda paused a moment, then croaked, "You are not forty-two."

"Sure am. And if you happen to be a tiny bit older than I am, so what?"

Ivy and Laney turned toward each other with their eyes wide open. Ivy opened her mouth, and Laney promptly held a finger up to her lips.

"The kitchen is spic-and-span, and lunch isn't for a couple hours," Toledo declared. "Now are you going for that stroll with me?"

Hilda spluttered. A moment later, the kitchen door clicked shut. Complete silence reigned. Laney opened the door from the dining room to the kitchen and peeked in. "She went!"

"Could you b'lieve that?" Ivy shook her head.

"I think it's wonderful!"

"I knowed Hilda was a sharp one, but she done went and figured out what half of eighty-four is." Ivy continued to shake her head in wonderment. "D'ya thank if I e'er learn to read, mebbe you could teach me to cipher that good?"

"Of course. But, Ivy, we can't ever let on what we just heard. It was poor manners to eavesdrop."

"Couldn't much holp it, what with Hilda bellering like a wounded moose."

Laney giggled. "Now you have to come over more often. While you're here, we'll be able to play Cupid for Hilda and Toledo, too."

Ivy enveloped Laney in an exuberant hug. "Yore wondrous smart, Laney. I'm so glad yore my friend!"

Laney hugged her back. Through their voluminous clothing, for the first time, she felt the small mound that proclaimed Ivy's impending motherhood. Even so, Laney patted her back. "I'm glad we're friends, too."

"Let's go."

"Lemme get my papers." Ivy gathered up her things and carefully slid them into a leather case. She bade good-bye to Laney, Ruth, and Amanda, then headed out the door.

Ishmael didn't say a word. He clamped his hands around Ivy and hefted her into the O'Sullivans' buckboard. "'Bye, ladies. Much obliged for them books."

"I'll enjoy discussing them with you," Amanda said softly.

"Lookin' forward to that." Ishy set the books he'd chosen up on the seat and hopped aboard. With a click of his tongue and a jingle of the reins, he set the rig into motion.

Tension crackled between them as they headed home. Ivy knew it was her fault. She'd lied to him. But he don't gotta know 'bout the babe's pa. Ain't nothin' good gonna come of it. Trying to fill the painful silence between them, she ran her hand over the reddish-colored leather case. Burgundy, Laney called it. Laney always had fancysounding names for colors-pearl, magenta, burgundy. "Burgundy," she said aloud. "Uh-huh. That's what color this here satchel is. Ain't it purdy? Laney give it to me."

Ishmael barely glanced down at the case in her lap.

"I'm a-keeping all my schoolin' stuff in this." She stopped moving her hand back and forth across the buttery leather and worried the clasp with the edge of her thumb. "I got me a pencil and paper and two books in here. Neat as cain be."

Ishmael nodded.

Please, Ishy, don't be mad at me. "I got me a list of words I cain read now, too."

All he did was nod again.

"Thirty-one words." Used to be, you'd be tickled that I could read.Don't change. "I cain read thirty-one words now."

"Good for you." He didn't even look at her or smile. Instead, he looked straight ahead at the horse's rump like he never seen one before.

The buckboard jostled, and the books Amanda had helped him pick out slid. Careful as could be, he stacked them together again.

A thought raced through Ivy's mind, and she laughed with sheer relief. "Yore so busy ponderin' the books you got and how sweet 'Manda is, yore barely hearin' a word I say."

"I heard you."

Chills ran down her back. It wasn't what he said-it was how he said it. The only time she'd ever heard her twin use that tone of voice was when Pa used to test his patience to the limit. "Ishy, I'm tryin' to make you proud of me."

His head whipped around. "Proud? You lied to me."

"You love me, Ishy. You won't stay mad."

"Might be I won't stay mad, but I'll always be 'shamed of you. Sick-clear-down-to-my-boots 'shamed of you."

His words stole her breath.

"Things was always hard on us. Pa drug us ever'whar and we didn't have nothin'."

"But it'll never be thataway again," Ivy burst out. "Don't you see? We got plenty to et and nice clothes and a real roof and-"

"Warm blankets," he said flatly.

The words hit her like a slap. Ivy winced. She clutched his sleeve. "Ishy-"

"We was twin-borned. We always had each other. You was my pride and joy." He looked at her and shook his head. "No more. I don't feel that way 'bout you no more. 'Cuz of yore lie, I held a shotgun on the onliest friend I ever had. I believed you over him 'cuz yore my sis and yore my twin and you was all I ever cared 'bout."

"Oh, Ishy-"

"You ruint Galen's life."

Her fingers curled more tightly into the fabric of his shirt. "The babe, Ishy. I done it for my babe. So he'll niver be cold or hungry."

His eyes smoldered. "I woulda worked till I dropped dead to get whate'er you and the babe needed."

"And that's 'zactly what woulda happened. Then me and the babe woulda been jist as bad off as you and me always was with Pa."

"Galen-"

"I'll make it up to him. I will. I'll do him proud. Jist you wait and see. My manners and book learnin' should do him right."

"He never looked down on you when you was wearin' your flour sack dress and didn't know yore letters. He was nice to you and me, and this is how you paid him back?" Ishmael's head dropped back as he groaned, "Sis, how could you do this?"

"I'll make it better, Ishy. I will."

"Cain't. You ruint his good name."

"Folks'll forget. Onc't the babe's borned, them gossips are shore to find sommat else to twitter o'er." She let go of his shirt and started stroking the leather case again. "And plenty of folk ain't holdin' nuthin' 'gainst him. The McCains been standin' staunch. You cain't say otherwise. Laney, 'specially. She been a true-blue friend to me."

"Beats me, her keepin' you as her friend."

"Ishy!"

"Galen loved her. She loved him back."

Ivy stared in horror at her brother.

"You done tole your lie and you stole all the happiness they was set to have. He's saddled with a wife and a babe what ain't his, and Laney's heart got broke. You sit here crowin' 'bout the things she does for you, 'bout the nice thangs you got. Well, I hope yore happy, sis, 'cuz yore lie bought you those thangs-but the folks who was the onliest ones who e'er bothered to holp us paid dear for it. That's right. They paid with all they e'er dreamed and hoped for."

Shivers wracked her, and she shook her head to deny his accusation.

"You been making a fuss o'er how somebody's stealin' stuff from the houses round here; you done worse. What you took cain't be boughten at a store and put back like nothin' e're happened."

"Cain't be so. Tell me ain't so," Ivy plead. "Laney wouldn't be holpin' me, and Ruth wouldn't give me purdy dresses if 'n 'twas true. They even give me a weddin' gift."

Ishmael's face was grim. "'Tis the truth."

The satchel slid from her lap, but Ivy didn't try to catch it. It landed on the board between their feet.

Ishmael's gaze nearly bore a hole through her as he demanded, "Tell me who the feller is."

Ivy shoved her fist against her mouth to hold back a sob.

"You gotta. That's the onliest chance that mebbe we could set thangs right."

Slowly, she lowered her hand and wrapped both arms about her ribs. The word stuck in her throat, but she still answered him by shaking her head.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.

Ivy, dear, come on inside." "Yes, Ma." Ivy trudged up the porch steps. Her heart was every bit as heavy as her footsteps. Ever since Ishmael had discovered she'd lied, life had unraveled. Nothing was right anymore. She keenly missed his jaunty smile and soft words of encouragement. Galen-he treated her real fine. He pulled chairs out for her, read aloud to her, even bought material for her to make baby clothes. Every last kind thing he or his ma did made her guilt mount.

Worst of all was Laney, though. Laney still sat beside her and helped her sound out words. She patiently modeled how to move and sit gracefully. When Laney had helped weed the big garden, she'd drawn words in the dirt for Ivy to happen across. Still, every once in awhile, when she didn't know Ivy was watching, Laney would spy Galen and for an instant her eyes would light up. Just as quickly, she'd turn away and get busy doing something else.

I done what I had to. Ivy chanted those words to herself whenever she was alone. I done it for my babe. Growed-up folks cain learn to get 'long, but a young'un-he cain't holp hisself. The baby kicked, as if to agree.

"Look who's come by!" Ma thumped the coffeepot onto the stove. "The gals from the Broken P."

Ivy cocked her head to the side. "It ain't Friday already, is it? I lose track of the days."