What are you doing?”
Polly was terrified. As she’d walked home, she had prepared a funny speech to tell him the news of the baby.
But there was no talking to this wild stranger. Just a few
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days ago, the remoteness of the house had made it seem a haven of privacy and safety. Now it felt like a kind of prison, with no one to summon for help and nowhere to turn. The barking of a dog sent her outside to see Greyling worrying a squirrel up a tree.
Judy Rhines appeared a moment later and waved. But when she saw Polly’s tear-streaked face, she hurried over.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Oliver,” Polly was sobbing. “He’s not himself. He’s got a knife, and he looks so strange and he’s been hurt, too.
He won’t talk to me. And, oh Judy, I’m going to have a baby. I’m sure of it now.”
Judy took her arm and led her inside, where they found Oliver testing the knife on the edge of the table.
“What’s that for?” Judy said.
But Oliver set his jaw and kept working.
“Oliver, dear,” said Judy. “You must talk to us. You may not have secrets from Polly now. She’s carrying your baby.”
That stopped him. “What?” he said, and looked up.
“I was going to tell you today,” said Polly. “I was hoping it would make you happy.” Had it been any other day, any other hour, he would have covered her face with kisses but at the moment he could not meet her eyes. There was nothing inside him
but anger.
“What is the knife for?” Judy said.
“Tammy.”
Polly shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Nor I,” Judy said.
His knuckles white around the shaft of the knife, Oliver told them what William Allen had said about his inheritance and the way Tammy had cheated him out of
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what was rightfully his. “I’m done being the coward,” he said. “I’m a grown man now. It’s time to act like one.”
Polly tried to put her arms around him, but Oliver pulled away.
“She is a spiteful old horror,” Judy said. “But you’re not going to murder her. It isn’t worth the risk to you, or to Polly. And besides, you don’t have it in you.”
He glared at Judy. “You don’t think so, do you?”