January 14, 1963 My dearest Harrison, I know your dear, sweet heart is breaking with mine, and I supposed it's just a part of growing up. I hope this is the last time for both of us, but as Daddy says in his preaching, we never know what the good Lord has in store for us.

I'm not angry with you or with Catherine Anne for what has happened between you. I love you both dearly, and I can easily see why you both feel the way you do. And I had no intention of making my predicament stand between you two. You asked me to marry you, and it would be the greatest honor of my life to be your wife. But it is not to be. I will not be the one responsible for making your life one of "what ifs." You love another, and I am setting you free.

I'm telling Daddy and Mama tonight, but I won't mention your name. They might guess, but I will never give up our secret. Your future chil-dren will be grateful for this.

I'm sure I will be sent away, but I'm all right with this. And please don't call me a saint, because you know well and true that I am not. I've prayed a lot about this, and no matter how painful it is, I know I'm making the right decision for all of us.

Love, E.

P.S. I'm returning the beautiful locket. Keep it safe, for it holds all my love for you inside.

Cassie's eyes stung as she picked up the envelope and turned it over. A thin gold chain with a small heart locket emptied into her hand, puddling in her palm like fallen tears. She turned the locket over to examine it more closely and spotted two sets of initials: HM and EL.

With a rush of excitement, Cassie slid from the bed and put the locket on her dresser. She'd discreetly ask around to find out who the initials belonged to. And then, maybe, find her missing sibling. She crawled back under the covers, shivering. Sam was right. It was like quicksand. If she wasn't careful, just a few more steps and she would be swallowed completely.

With a deep yawn, she turned her head into the pillow, jerking back suddenly as she recognized Sam's scent. No one was looking, so she buried her nose in it, taking a deep breath.

The last time she'd seen him had been at church the previous Sunday, and it had been a lesson in torture. Just about every member of the congregation at First United Methodist had taken turns patting her arm and offering condolences over her broken engagement. That would have been fine if their sentiments hadn't been followed by broad hinting about Sam.

The man in question had done everything he could to remain aloof. He had been a portrait of politeness, but no teasing, no twinkling eyes or winks in her direction. She almost wanted him to make some comment on her behavior or appearance, even if it was mean and nasty, just to know that he was thinking about her. Not that it mat-tered. Things were best this way-and far less complicated.

She had sighed with relief when he walked past their pew with just a wave in her direction. The empty seat next to her had gone unnoticed, thank goodness. Until the tenacity of the Sedgewick twins made its presence known. With matching wide-brimmed straw hats and white gloves, they had each taken one of Sam's arms and led him to sit next to Cassie, chatting the whole time as if to keep him from noticing what they were doing.

Beyond a polite "good morning," the only time she heard his voice was during the hymns, when he broke forth with a surprisingly strong tenor. When they sat down, their legs had accidentally touched, and he unobtrusively placed a hymnal on the pew between them.

Cassie had caught Harriet's gaze, and her sister's tired blue eyes were filled with concern. The fleeting memory of Harriet's face staring up at Joe during a picnic following high school graduation fluttered through her mind. As Harriet had shifted her gaze and seen Cassie standing at the dessert table with a lemon bar halfway to her face, she had worn the same expression. Whether it was concern or pity, Cassie didn't know. Lowering her eyes, she had spent the entire service staring at the notes and words inside the hymnal, not seeing them but acutely aware of Sam's presence next to her.

The man would not leave her alone. Thoughts of him had chased her into sleep, then accompanied her dreams, so that once again she felt as if they had spent the night together. With a heavy sigh, she struggled out of the pillow's depth and climbed out of bed.

Before her feet had even touched the ground, her cell phone rang. She remembered turning it on the night before to drain the battery but couldn't understand why it would be ringing. As she bent to pick it up, she recalled the ad she and Harriet had put in the paper. Her heart lurched as her hand stilled over the small black phone. On the third ring, she picked it up, her palm sweaty.

"Hello?"

She heard breathing on the other end of the phone but nothing else.

"Hello?" she asked again. "Who is this?"

Adistinctive click on the other line answered her.

Lowering the phone, she looked at the incoming number on the little screen. It was a local number, but not one she recognized. Jotting it down, she put the phone on the night table, leaving it on in case whoever it was called back.

She looked at the paper in her hand, then folded it in half. She should get on the Internet and do a reverse search to find out who the number belonged to, but that could wait for later. The image of quicksand came to mind, making her drop the folded paper on the table.

Cassie sighed. Harriet's appointment was at eight, and she needed a run first to clear her head. Hugging the large pink elephant, she pulled the curtain at her window aside and peered out. Her mother's roses drooped in the heavy humidity, the sky thick with gray clouds and the scent of rain. A perfect day to fit her mood. She had every intention of finishing up the attic today, with no time allotment for old memories. She had to move on. Her hard-earned career lay in shambles, her relationship with her boss iffy at best. Yes, her stay in Walton had been long enough, and it was time to start making plans for a return to New York.

The smell of Saucy perfume hung heavily inside Lucinda's car. Cassie blasted the air-conditioning full force and then cranked all the windows down to air it out. It was bad enough driving a pink car, but to smell like it was adding insult to injury. Grimacing at her thoughts, she noticed her hand fingering the charms around her neck. What are you scared of, Cassie? It's only a checkup. Everything will be fine.

Harriet opened the front door of her house before Cassie could ring the bell. Her blond hair was worn straight and tucked behind her ears like that of a teenager. Her gingham cotton sundress flapped like a shapeless tent over Harriet's body, but Cassie noticed a roundness to her arms and figure that she hadn't noticed before. Cassie had to remember that her sister had gone through five pregnancies, and a softening of the figure was inevitable.

Harriet raised her fingers to her lips. "Shhh. The children are still sleeping. School starts soon, and I want them to sleep in as much as possible."

Cassie nodded and led the way to the car and slid into the driver's seat. She waited for Harriet to open her door. After watching her sister struggle with it, Cassie reached across the seat and pushed it open from the inside.

"You need to start pumping some iron, Har. You're not getting any younger."

The fatigue in her sister's smile made Cassie want to call back her words. Silently, she put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

"Joe wanted to take off from work today so he could come with me, but I told him no. It's just a checkup. It would just be silly for him to take a vacation day for that." She worried her bottom lip.

Cassie frowned as she pulled onto the road but kept silent. They drove past Miss Lena's house, and they both waved as they spotted the old woman on her porch. She wore a bright pink sweater over her housedress in spite of the heat, and the ubiquitous romance novel lay open on her lap. She waved and smiled as they passed, then bent her head back to reading. Ed Farrell, shirtless but wearing a red bandanna around his forehead and dark socks with his sneakers, pushed a lawn mower around Miss Lena's front lawn but didn't look up.

Harriet leaned back in her seat. "Do you think that'll be us when we're old and gray? Sitting out on the porch, wearing sensible shoes and our stockings rolled down to our ankles, and reading sex scenes to each other all day?"

Cassie laughed. "Oh, Lord-I hope so. It seems to me that Miss Lena's got a pretty good deal going." Her smile faded slowly as she drove, thinking of their mother and her own mortality and what a blessing it was to be allowed to grow old. She pulled into a parking spot but stopped halfway with a start. The idea of sitting on a large porch with her stockings around her ankles and waving at passersby suddenly sounded amazingly appealing and something to aspire to. Certainly more so than working herself into a heart attack and dropping dead at her desk at an early age. She shook herself mentally and finished parking the car.

Cassie helped her sister out and pushed open the glass door of the clinic. The waiting room was empty except for a large black woman sitting against the wall and knitting. Cinnamon potpourri saturated the air, giving the space a warm, inviting air, as did the cozy gingham curtains and matching upholstery. An empty reception desk filled one corner of the room, a box of lollipops propped on a corner.

The woman put aside her knitting and stood slowly, a wide grin splitting her face. "Cassie Madison-I heard you were in town."

Cassie allowed herself to be enveloped in a bear hug and then held out for scrutiny.

"My, my-you're as pretty as a picture. You look just like your precious mama, God rest her soul." Her dark eyes warmed. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Cassie smiled. "Of course I do, Mrs. Perkins." She held her hair back from her forehead. "My scar's almost gone, but I still remember you bundling me into your car and driving me to the hospital."

Mrs. Perkins's smile widened, allowing a gold tooth to shine through. "I'd never heard such caterwauling in all my days. You learned your lesson, though, didn't you? You played pranks after that, but you never tried to climb on the courthouse roof again, thank goodness."

Cassie smiled, feeling the warmth that emanated from this gentle spirit. Camellia Perkins had worked for her mother as a housekeeper, but she'd always been treated as more of a friend of the family. She had stayed on, taking care of the girls, after their mother had died, until Aunt Lucinda had moved in with them. Her soft bosom had absorbed many a tear from the Madison sisters.

Harriet gave the older woman a hug. "Good to see you again, Mrs. Perkins. I missed your birthday last month, and I've been meaning to mail a present to you. If I'd known you'd be back in town visiting, I would have brought it over. How long are you here for?"

The black woman put her hand on Harriet's cheek. "You are always so sweet. You don't need to bring me anything. Just stop by for a visit and that will be a treat enough. I'll be here for another week. I'm watching my grandbabies while their parents take a second honey-moon. Lord knows they need it!" As if to show a camaraderie between mothers, she winked at Harriet.

Harriet smiled. "Now, why are you here? You aren't sick, are you?"

Mrs. Perkins gave a deep, rich laugh, a sound like hot melted tar on summer asphalt. "No, I'm as healthy as a horse. I'm here with Patricia, my oldest granddaughter. She's getting her stitches out. What about you, dear? You look tired."

Harriet looked away, greeting Mary Jane as she walked into the waiting room. Mary Jane said hello to Cassie, then turned back to Harriet. "Sam's ready for you. Come on back with me."

Cassie touched her sister's arm. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, you can stay here and get reacquainted with Mrs. Perkins. I won't be long." She flashed a bright smile, then disappeared behind the door with Mary Jane.

She sat down next to Mrs. Perkins, feeling restless.

The older lady turned to her. "Is she sick?"

Cassie plucked at her skirt. "She's just tired. Sam's going to do some tests and I guess prescribe her some vitamins to perk her up."

Mrs. Perkins nodded, satisfied. "I just can't get over how much you look like your mama. I'd think you were her if I hadn't seen that sweet woman in her coffin with my very own eyes."

Cassie looked down at her hands.

Mrs. Perkins leaned closer. "Your mama was such a sweet lady to work for. So kind and gentle. Always had a nice word to say to every-body. I was with her when you came into this world, you know."

Cassie looked up, surprised. "I didn't know that." Lucinda had told her about the circumstances of her birth, but this was new.

The large woman leaned back, resting her knitting on her ample lap. "You've always been impatient-I remember you as a little child. But it started when you were born. I was helping your mama clean her silver and her water broke just like that-no warning or nothing. Thank goodness your Aunt Lucinda was there. I left her with your mama, and I ran as fast as I could to old Dr. Williams." She gave Cassie a gold-toothed grin. "I wasn't so big then, and I could run fast."

A faraway look drifted across her face. "You were born right there on the dining-room floor in the middle of your mama's wedding silver. We'd barely got you wrapped up and your mama on the par-lor couch when your daddy came in for lunch. We'd been so busy get-ting you born that we'd forgotten all about him." She chuckled, then frowned. "My memory's getting fuzzy now, but I'll never forget what the judge said the first time he held you. It was just so peculiar."

Cassie straightened, her attention captured. "What did he say?"

Mrs. Perkins took a deep breath. "Well, he marveled over how pretty you were, of course. And then he said something like how he couldn't spoil your brother but he'd be darned if he wasn't allowed to spoil you."

Cassie felt the air leave her lungs. "My brother?"

Mrs. Perkins slapped her hands on her knees. "As sure as I'm sitting here, that's what he said. All of us there just sort of passed it off as new father's shock. We honestly didn't think he was in his right mind." A soft look came over her face as she regarded Cassie. "But, oh, how he loved you. I never seen a man make such a fuss over a baby before. You'd think you were the first baby ever born."

The door opened, and Mrs. Perkins's granddaughter walked into the waiting room. After a quick introduction, Mrs. Perkins hugged Cassie again and then left.

Cassie tried flipping through the magazines on the table but couldn't concentrate. The word brother kept echoing in her mind, as did the image of her and Harriet as old ladies wearing fluffy pink sweaters in the summertime.

The hands of the clock pushed across its face with each lethargic tick as Cassie paced the room. Her anxiety over Harriet mixed with her eagerness to share her news about the locket's initials and a possible brother. Thunder rolled lazily in the distance, the room darkening by a degree.

The door handle rattled, and Cassie spun around, her words drying in her mouth. Harriet's face was serene, more beautiful than Cassie had ever seen it. A quiet peace, an acceptance, radiated from Harriet, and it chilled Cassie to the bone.

Cassie stepped toward her. "How did it . . . ?"

Harriet held her finger to her lips. "I need to be alone. I need time to think before I see Joe."

Cassie opened her mouth to say something but stopped as Sam followed Harriet into the waiting room.

Harriet continued. "I've asked Sam to talk to you now. He has my permission to tell you . . . everything. I . . ." Her voice trailed away.

"Har, it's going to rain. Let me drive you home. We can talk in the car."

Harriet shook her head and pushed open the door leading to the outside. Cassie walked toward her, but Sam pulled her back. "Let her go," he said, his voice dry.

Cassie pushed away, intent on following her sister out the door. The first drops of rain began to fall as she reached the parking lot and watched Harriet run down the sidewalk as if her life depended on reaching her destination.

She felt Sam's presence behind her and waited for his touch. When it didn't come, she turned around to face him.

"Are you going to tell me?"

Her breath caught when she looked up into his eyes. She felt as if she were looking into his soul-seeing the hurt, the love, the pity. She stepped away, not wanting or needing any of it. "What's wrong with my sister?"

"She's pregnant." The words fell flat, his voice carrying more meaning than the simple words.

"That's good, right?"

He shook his head. "In this case, not necessarily."

She touched his arm, then let it drop. "Tell me straight, Sam. Harriet said she wanted you to tell me everything, and I can take it. Don't give me any wishy-washy drivel. I can take the cold, hard facts." She stuck out her chin and forced it to stop trembling.

He regarded her closely. "All right, then." His eyes softened. "Harriet also has breast cancer. I know because I've just reviewed the results of the biopsy with her."

Cassie blinked. "Biopsy? What biopsy?"

The rain fell in a steady drizzle now, but neither of them moved. "Last week, when Harriet went to Atlanta to get a few things for the party and refused company, she actually went to an appointment to have a biopsy done. I drove her myself. We'll need more tests to see if . . . if the cancer's spread." He wiped his rain-dampened hair off his forehead. "I'm sorry."

Her first impulse was to turn around and run as far away as she could. She even managed to take a step away from him before she jerked around to face him again. "Biopsy? Last week? And you didn't tell me? My sister is horribly sick and you didn't think I should be told?"

Sam slowly shook his head as the rain plastered his white coat to his shirt. "You know I couldn't. My professional relationship with Harriet is strictly confidential. I'm sorry."

She slapped both palms against his chest, the sound sharp against the pattering of the rain. "My sister has cancer and you're sorry? You should have told me. You know you should have told me." She started to cry and was glad for the raindrops gliding down her face.

He placed his own hands firmly over hers, keeping her close to him. "I am sorry, Cassie. It was Harriet's choice not to tell anybody until she knew for sure. She . . . she wanted to decide for herself about the baby."

Jerking away from him, Cassie stumbled on the wet pavement. "The baby? Oh, God." She looked up at him, blinking at the raindrops, seeing things as if through a microscope. "She's going to try and save the baby first, isn't she?"

Sam hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

Cassie shivered, feeling cold all of a sudden. "How far along is the pregnancy?"

"Four months-almost five."

Cassie stared at her feet, at her pink-painted toenails, and let her peripheral vision fade. "The baby will make treatment for her more difficult, won't it?"

He didn't pause. "Yes, it will."

Cassie looked at him square in the face, all of the fight in her gone. "Is Harriet going to die, Sam?"

He reached out to touch her but stopped midway. He slid his hand into a back pocket instead. "I don't know. Cases exist where both mother and child have survived. When I'm in Atlanta, I'll be making appointments for her with the best people in the field. If there are treatments for her that won't harm the baby, we'll find them. But I won't lie to you. Chemotherapy and radiation are her best chances. And she won't consider them-at least not until the baby is born."

The wind picked up, whipping her hair across her face. "Harriet's always a mother first, isn't she?"

Sam nodded, his eyes dark. "She had a good example."

Cassie bit down hard, stilling her chattering teeth. "She hardly knew our mother."

"That's not who I was referring to. Despite your best efforts, your nurturing side still shows." He sent her a crooked smile.

Cassie took a deep breath and turned away. The rain had stopped, but the sky draped low and dark clouds over the summer-scorched earth.

"I'm not going to tell you to be strong, Cassie. You're strong enough for all of us. But I do want to tell you that it's okay to cry-that it's okay to ask for help or a shoulder to lean on. There're plenty of people in town who would be happy to have the honor."