You dripped orange Popsicle all over your shirt, Devy-girl.” The boy in the short-sleeve blue gingham shirt sat straight up in the saddle, his crisp straw cowboy hat pulled almost down to his eyes.

“I prefer to think of it as a modern-art field of poppies.” Develyn kicked the flanks of her horse. He began to trot. “Besides, Brownie doesn’t mind.”

The boy raced up alongside her. “He’s a horse. He’s color-blind.”

Develyn stuck out her narrow, pointed tongue at her twin brother. “Who cares?” She studied the rolling prairie ahead of them. “Are you sure it’s OK to ride north? I think we’re lost.”

“Mr. Homer said we could ride any direction, as long as we don’t leave a gate open or cross a blacktop road. We haven’t seen either of those in weeks. We are not lost. All we have to do is turn around and follow our trail back.” He serpentined his horse around the gray sagebrush.

“Even if we are lost, Brownie can lead us home. He’s the smartest horse in North America.” Develyn paused. “Dewayne, I don’t want to go home. Do you?”

“Yeah. I haven’t played baseball in two weeks.”

“Well, I’m coming back,” she insisted as she caught up with him.

He turned and rested his hand on the back of the saddle. “When?”

She held her upturned nose even higher. “Next summer.”

“Yeah, right. Next summer we’re goin’ to visit Grandma and Grandpa in Wisconsin.”

“Then the summer after that. I’m coming back, Dewa … I really am.”

“I believe you, Sis. You’re as stubborn as…”

“Mama?”

“Maybe not that stubborn. I’ll race you to that stand of trees down there. One … two … three…”

The crack of the lightning bolt came as if on cue. They galloped toward the small stand of cottonwoods. Thunder rolled all the way to the trees.

“I won!” Develyn shouted.

“I let you,” Dewayne declared.

“You did not!”

“A boy is supposed to let the girl win.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s the rules.”

“But I won fair and square.”

“Your field of modern-art poppies is getting wet. It’s going to rain really hard.”

“It better not.”

Dewayne brushed drops of water from his dusty face. “What are you goin’ to do about it?”

She shook her fist at the sky. “Don’t you dare rain on me! Do you hear me, clouds? I’ve had enough of this. You stop it right now!”

The clouds ripped open, and a Noahian deluge collapsed on top of them.

***

Warm water blasted Develyn’s face. She cupped it in her hands and washed her eyes, then turned off the shower. She reached past the cream-colored plastic curtain and grabbed an oversized cream-colored fluffy bath towel.

She was dry when she heard a car pull up in the gravel driveway, and almost dressed when a voice rang out from the adjoining bedroom. “Latte delivery service.”

“Yes! You are a lifesaver, Lily. I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time, Dev, I had them make it extra hot. Say, I do believe your alarm clock’s broken.”

Develyn Worrell poked her petite blonde head out of the walk-in closet and eyed the woman standing next to the queen-sized bed. “Yes. I’m afraid it’s permanently stuck on twenty-one minutes after midnight.”

The shorter woman with black and gray wavy hair studied the cracked glass of the round brass alarm clock. “Why do you keep it?”

Develyn padded over and retrieved a beverage in a tall green cup that steamed on the dresser. “Lily, it’s the only thing I saved from the bedroom at my old house.” She meandered back into the walk-in closet.

The woman wearing black jeans and a pale green blouse tossed the clock into the open duffle bag. “Dev, explain this to me: the clock doesn’t work, yet you take it with you?”

Barefoot, Develyn Worrell scooted out into the bedroom, her shoulder draped by a blue dress on a hanger. “It’s a reminder of what I want to forget.”

Lily Martin pulled her silver-framed glasses down on her nose and peered over the lenses. “Ms. Worrell, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Mentally unstable women don’t need to make any sense. It’s one of the privileges of our lot.” Develyn flopped the dress on the bed and spun back toward the closet. As she walked, she tugged at the back of her blue jeans that rode low on her narrow hips.

Lily followed her to the doorway that led to the master bath, as well as the walk-in closet. “Dev Worrell, you are not mentally unstable.”

Develyn jabbed her hand into the crammed rack of clothes. “How does this pink blouse look? Is it too youthful?”

Lily Martin surveyed the pink, short-sleeve, scooped necked T-shirt with lavender outlined stars trailed across it. “A size six anything looks darling on you, Dev. In over twenty years, I have never seen you look anything but cute and classy.”

“Ms. Martin, you always make me feel good.”

“And you, Ms. Worrell, always make me feel old and dumpy.”

“You are only a few years older than me.”

“That might be, but on more than one occasion I’ve been mistaken for your mother.”

“Then, I’m your unstable, coming-apart-at-the-seams daughter.”

“That’s nonsense, Dev. You just might be the most together woman in Montgomery County. Unknown to most in the community, you’ve almost singlehandedly held together Riverbend Elementary School for over twenty years. Your incredible stability and strength of character have survived six principals and four superintendents, several of which would have pushed anyone else over the edge.”

Develyn shoved a curling iron and a tall fuchsia bottle of shampoo at Lily. “Toss these in for me.” Her gray-green eyes bounced around the nearly bare walls of the off-white bedroom. “Five superintendents, if you count Frederick LaClaire.”

Lily chuckled. “I had forgotten about good ol’ Frederick. I suppose that any man who shows up drunk and makes a pass at Miss Chambers before school starts on his first day at work is not easily remembered as a superintendent of schools.”

Develyn exited the bathroom, with an olive green and brown plaid towel and solid brown washcloth. “Betty Chambers certainly remembers him.”

Lily rearranged six ruffled floral pillows at the head of the bed. “Dev, you are the finest fifth-grade teacher I have ever worked with.”

“Thank you, dear Lily, now tell that to mother.” Develyn circled the bed to pull the floor-length curtains on the large window, blocking out most of the early June sunlight.

Lily studied a medium-sized black cat with white paws as it perched in the doorway to the living room and yawned. “Your mother said you were unstable?”

Dev plucked up a small blue glass heart-shaped bottle from the huge oak dresser and opened the lid. “From the first day three years ago, when I said I was divorcing Spencer, I have been a failure in her eyes. ‘A family embarrassment,’ I believe were her words.” She sniffed the perfume, then held it over to Lily. “If I only take one fragrance, should this be the one?”

“Anything called Melancholy Moments must be right for you,” the older woman shrugged.

“It’s not the name but the fragrance that matters.” Dev put the blue bottle down.

Lily studied the top of the dresser, then plucked up a white frosted, opaque bottle with a brass lid. “In that case, take this one.” She shoved it toward Develyn’s hand.

Dev refused to take it. “I will not go on a trip with a perfume called Wander Lust.”

“It’s not the name but the fragrance,” Lily mimicked as she sniffed the perfume. “It smells very nice.”

Develyn yanked the perfume out of Lily’s hand and tossed in into the forest green duffel bag. “There, are you satisfied?”

Lily wiggled her nose, causing the glasses to creep back up her small nose. “Yes, I am. Thank you,” she grinned.

“What am I forgetting?” Dev rubbed her narrow, pointed chin and studied the bed.

“Common sense comes to mind.” Lily brushed her hair back over her ears. “You didn’t tell me why your mother thinks you’re mentally unstable. You did tell her all the circumstances of your leaving Spencer, didn’t you?”

“No. There are some things so awful you can’t even tell your mother. I have never told anyone that scene, except you. I explained that Spencer was unfaithful and I couldn’t live with that.”

“Did you tell her you’re going on this trip?”

Dev folded the rest of the blouses on the bed, then stacked them inside the duffel. “No.”

“Are you just going to drive off into the sunset without telling your own mother?” Lily scooped up the cat with her left hand and began to scratch its head.

Develyn sighed. “She’s tied up this week with the garden club bazaar. And, I might add, she’s very disappointed that I’m not helping her this year. Lily, I just don’t want to have to explain this. It will only make me feel like a failure in her eyes again. I’m forty-five years old. I am what I am. She needs to accept that. She and I are so different.”

“I was just thinking how much you are the same.”

“You mean, stubborn and opinionated?”

“Yes … and gracious and kindhearted.”

When Develyn paused, her shoulders slumped. “Mother does have her good moments. I’ll send her and David a postcard. They will be in Austria most of the summer anyway.”

“Austria?” Lily continued to stroll the room, cat in hand. “Is that her idea or David’s?”

“It’s Mother’s plan. She has it in her mind to do a cultural tour of Vienna and Austria. Dear, sweet David adores her and will do whatever she asks.”

“She’s quite a lady to find two jewels to marry. David is very much like your father.”

“Yes, I don’t know what I would do without David around. After father died, mother was at such a loss. Then David drove up in his gold Chrysler and charming attentions. He’s perfect for her. And dear mother has reminded me of the fact that there are good men available, but I just don’t seem to have the discernment to find one.”

“She said that?”

“That’s what she implied.”

“Ms. Worrell, that makes two of us with no discernment.”

“You know, the strange thing is that mother thinks you did the absolute right thing with Donald. It was very justifiable in her eyes.”

“When your husband of twenty-five years moves in with another woman three blocks away, you don’t have a lot of choices,” Lily replied.

Develyn opened the top drawer of the oak dresser and sorted through satin nighties. “I guess that’s the difference. I left Spencer, so it must be all my fault.” She held up a royal blue nightgown with thin spaghetti straps. “What do you think of this for my one nightgown?”

“It depends on who is going to be seeing it.”

“No one is going to be seeing it,” Dev snapped.

“Then, it really doesn’t matter, does it?” Lily smiled. “So you just drive off without telling your mother a word? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious, Ms. Martin.” Dev tossed the blue gown back in the dresser and shoved the drawer shut. “I’m going to wear sweats for jammies. You are right, no one will see me anyway.” She transferred the alarm clock from the center to the side pocket of the duffel bag. “Now, will you feed Josephine and Smoky until Trevor and his family get back from Florida? He’ll take care of them and the yard work for the rest of the summer.”

Lily stroked the black cat that hung like a pelt from her arm. “I’ll feed the cats and your neighbor boy and do the yard. But, gone all summer? The first I heard of this trip was two hours ago.”

“Think of it as furthering my education. It will be advanced teacher training. I told you I just need to get away.” Develyn toted the duffel bag out of the bedroom and into the entryway, then slapped it down on the white tile beside the front door. She scurried back into the bedroom.

“You only taking one suitcase?” Lily called out.

Develyn waltzed out with a brown leather bag over her shoulder, then dropped it over the duffel. “And a garment bag with one dress and a blanket-lined denim jacket.”

“You need more than that when we go for a weekend in Indy.” Lily put the cat down on the cream-colored carpet.

Dev buzzed into the adjoining room. “Yes, but I’m not going to Indy.”

“And just where are you going?” Lily followed her into the immaculate kitchen.

“I’m surprised you waited that long to ask me.” Develyn dug a tray of ice out of the freezer. “I’m going west.”

“I was waiting for you to volunteer the information, but it was sort of like waiting for a room mother to materialize before the sixth-grade fall social. I gave up on it happening. Now, how far west are you going?” Lily pressed. “Iowa? Nebraska?”

Dev pulled a tall, blue plastic glass from the oak cupboard. “Somewhere in Wyoming.” She plopped in a half-dozen ice cubes.

Lily refilled the ice tray and shoved it back in the freezer. “I hear there’s nothing but wind and sagebrush in Wyoming.”

“Yes, it sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? So peaceful.”

“If you’re an antelope or a jackrabbit.”

“Lily, you are my very best friend in the world.” Develyn filled the glass with tap water, then took a sip. She rubbed her upturned nose with the palm of her hand, then sighed. “We’ve taught side by side for twenty-three years, you with the sixth grade, me with the fifth. You were there for me when Spencer had to be in New York and I was alone when Delaney was born. You held my hand through two miscarriages. You and I drove to Lafayette day after day, summer after summer, to get our master’s degrees. You were there both times I waited in the hospital for the results from the biopsies. You opened your spare room to us the night I left Spencer; then you let me and Delaney impose on you for six long months until we could buy this place. You showed me by your strong Christian example how to survive the pain of divorce with class. I thought I had worked my way through all of it. But, dear sweet Lily, I’m telling you, I can’t stay here this summer. It’s difficult to explain, but it’s crushing me. Absolutely crushing me. The bad memories hang as heavy as the humidity. And now, the situation with Delaney. I don’t think I can physically, mentally, or spiritually survive if I stay. For the sake of my sanity, and my faith, I have to go west.”

Lily plucked a tissue from a square gold box. “What will you do in Wyoming? Do you know someone there?”

Develyn took the tissue, then strolled around the small two-person breakfast table and stood at the window that revealed a six-foot-high spruce tree in the middle of the unfenced back lawn. She held the water glass in her hand in front of her. “No, I don’t know a soul in Wyoming. I just have to find some peace of mind and rest for my spirit.”

Lily Martin stepped up next to her and gazed outside. She rubbed Develyn’s back in a circular motion. “Sweetie, Dee’s just going through a twenty-year-old, I-want-to-prove-my-independence stage. She’ll work through it. She’s a smart girl.”

“I pray she will.” Dev slipped her free arm across the shorter woman’s shoulders. “And I pray I’ll live through it.”

“What exactly did she say when she called?”

Dev took another sip of ice water, then cleared her throat. “She said, ‘Mother, I’m not coming home this summer. I’m not going with you to Maine. I’m not sure when I will see you. I might go live in Charleston and work at the Crab House.’”

“Charleston, South Carolina?”

“Mr. Awesome Corvette lives in Charleston. I believe his father owns the Crab House.”

“But, I’ve listened to you and Delaney giggle and plan this trip to Maine for two years.”

Develyn drew the cream-colored curtains closed on the window and turned toward Lily. “Yes, it was to be her graduation present. But, as you know, high school graduation turned out to be a little different than I hoped for. So we had to postpone it until after the divorce settlement. This was the first summer I could afford it.”

Lily slipped her arm around Develyn’s narrow waist. “Why not just get away for a few days? Or a week? Go up and visit your friends in Michigan. Go out on the lake. You always said how much you enjoyed that. Think things through.”

Develyn trailed off to the living room where her buckskin-colored boots and forest-green socks waited by the off-white leather sofa. “I’ve already thought things through, Lily. I declined to teach summer school with you because of the trip to Maine. But I have no intention of going there alone. I’ve canceled the cabin.” She sucked in her breath. “My dear daughter, my only child, has accused me of being so unforgiving and cold-hearted that I caused her father to have a massive heart attack and die.”

“That’s not fair.”

“In her twenty-year-old mind, it must seem reasonable. She held on to the hope we would get back together.”

“Maybe you and I should go down to Nashville again. We enjoyed that long weekend. Remember when we went to that costume place and tried on the Dolly Parton wigs?”

Develyn arched her eyebrows. “I seem to remember we tried on the Dolly Parton everything.”

“Only you, Dev. There are some things I need no help with, thank you.” Lily studied her eyes. “You see, you can still laugh and giggle, Ms. Worrell.”

The sigh was slow, deliberate … like a ship departing for a long voyage and none of the crew quite ready to say good-bye. “Dear, sweet Lily, your summer is planned. Six weeks of summer school and a month with the grandchildren in Wisconsin. I’m not sure when I will have grandchildren, nor if my daughter will even tell me. So, I would get to sit at home all summer and feel sorry for myself. I have felt sorry for myself for over ten years. I can’t stand that any more.”

“Ten years?” Lily questioned.

“That wasn’t the only time Spencer did this.” Dev handed Lily the glass of ice water, then plopped down on the couch.

“You never told me that.”

“I never told anyone that. Not mother. And certainly not Delaney. But like an old wool coat, lies wear thin over the years.” Dev tugged on the green socks. “I’m tired, Lily. So tired of having to be strong for everyone but me. Like a runner who has hit the wall, I can’t go on. I didn’t know I would hit the wall today, but I did. Now, I believe the Lord has put this wild idea in my head. It’s my only chance to regain purpose in my life.”

“But why, all of a sudden, Wyoming? It’s not like you to be impulsive.”

“The completely predictable Ms. Worrell does something spontaneous. That will be big news at Riverbend Elementary. It’s about time.” She pulled on the light tan boots, then smoothed her jeans down over the tops. “Besides, it’s not all of a sudden. I’ve been planning this trip since I was ten years old.”

“Ten? You’ve wanted to go to Wyoming since you were ten?”

Dev strolled over and closed the curtains behind the television. “I was in Wyoming when I was ten. Now, I’m going back.”

“But where?”

“A little town.”

“What little town?”

Dev stared at the lifeless ashes in the tan brick fireplace. Her voice softened. She no longer sounded like a fifth-grade teacher, but like a child. “I don’t know its name. I can’t remember.”

“Where in Wyoming is it?”

“I’m not sure. The dream is fuzzy, thirty-five years later.” Dev meandered to the window on the south side of the sparsely furnished living room.

Carrying the water glass, Lily scooted after her. “You don’t know where you are going or where you will stay or what you will do or how long you will be there?”

Develyn closed the floor-to-ceiling curtains. “That’s about it.”

“I’m worried about you.”

She retrieved the water glass and took a sip. “You think I need counseling?”

“It’s a thought.”

“Perhaps Mr. Thompson?” Develyn grinned.

“I’m afraid our school counselor is busy with community service projects since his last DUI.”

“Lily, the most peaceful, wonderful days of my entire life were the two weeks we were stranded in Wyoming with car trouble on our way to Yellowstone. For two weeks a ten-year-old girl lived in a log cabin heated from a big old rock fireplace. I slept in a feather bed that I had to share with my twin brother. We rode horses every morning until I was so sore I could hardly walk. We scouted along the Bridger Trail … the real trail where we could still see the ruts of the pioneer wagons. We climbed up on the bluffs once occupied by Shoshone, Crow, Sioux, Arapahoe, and Cheyenne Indians and found arrowheads and artifacts. The air was filled with the aroma of fresh-cut hay, sage, horse sweat, and old oiled leather. Father would give us a quarter, and Dewayne and I would walk barefoot down the middle of that dusty street to the Sweetwater Grocery, which was in Mrs. Tagley’s living room. We’d buy an orange Popsicle and sit out on the bench made from a covered wagon seat and pretend we were waiting for Wyatt Earp, or Marshal Dillon, or Stuart Brannon to mosey down the street. In the afternoon, Dewa would go fishing with father. Mother would read her treasured Faulkner, so I lay in that big old hammock in the shade of the cottonwoods and rocked back and forth and wrote stories in the Wyoming blue sky. That was when I decided to become a teacher. Life was too grand to hold it all in. I needed to tell others. In the evening Father roasted hot dogs over the flames of the fireplace and Mother read to us. The only book in the cabin Mother approved for us was Will James’s Smoky the Cow Horse. Poor Mother, we must have made her read it three times in two weeks. I would go to sleep with horse dreams and wake up with horse dreams then get to start the whole cycle all over again. I remember praying that our old Buick station wagon would never get fixed.”

“What a wonderful memory.”

“Lily, it just might have been as close to paradise as I will ever get on this earth. We never made it to Yellowstone, yet when we drove out of town, I cried and cried. I promised myself that I would come back the next year. But the years went by. Then I said the summer between high school and college, I would travel west. But I needed to work and save up for Purdue. So I made it my college graduation present to myself. But Spencer had a summer job with Jacobs Engineering and he said he couldn’t live without me.” Dev rubbed her chin and bit her lip. “I should have gone that summer. Perhaps things would have been different. No, that’s not true. There wouldn’t be any Delaney Melinda Worrell. She hates me, but I can’t keep from loving her. She’s still the joy of my life.”

“Release her, Dev. She’s twenty. She’s a big girl now.”

“I know, Mother tells me the same thing. Lily, I’m going to Wyoming. I’m leaving today. I will regret it dearly if I don’t try to find paradise one more time. It sounds like John Milton, doesn’t it?”

“I was thinking more like Thomas Wolfe. Everything is different now. You aren’t ten any more, Dev.”

“I can wish, Lily.” Dev felt her shoulders tense, then relax. “I can wish. Maybe it won’t be paradise. Maybe it will only be 50 percent paradise … or 20 percent … or 2 percent. It still beats staying here with nothing to do but mow the grass and feed the cats.”

Lily shook her head. “I still can’t figure what possesses you to do such a thing.”

Dev Worrell locked the sliding-glass back door, then strolled to the entryway. “Lingering memories of a dirt-road town.”

“Dirt-road town?”

“It must be ten miles off the blacktop before you come to town, and then there are no paved streets, Lily. Can you imagine a town where there is no paved highway, and no paved streets?”

“But that was thirty-five years ago, Dev. How do you know it’s the same?”

“I’ve got to find out. I made a promise to a ten-year-old girl. I got delayed. Now’s my chance to keep the promise.”

“Doesn’t your mother know the name of the town?”

“I don’t know. I don’t intend to ask her. Father would know, bless his heart. He understood his Devy-girl. He died way too young, Lily. I don’t think I ever got over losing Daddy. Mother got over it. Dewayne got over it. I don’t think I ever did. Maybe this trip will help that loss too.”

“Are those all the shoes you’re taking?”

“One pair of boots, one pair of tennies, and I’m taking one blue denim dress.”

“The one with fake rhinestones?” Lily pressed.

“Yes, and other than that just jeans, tops, and sweats. One pair of earrings: the diamond studs.”

“Now I know you’ve lost it. You own more earrings than anyone in Montgomery County.”

“I want to go some place where it doesn’t matter if my earrings coordinate with the rest of my outfit. Somewhere I don’t have to fuss with my hair, polish my nails, or wear a fake smile to make everyone think things are fine.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Lily challenged.

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You are always in control. Always on top of everything. This is not you, Dev.”

She snatched up the duffel bag with one hand and held the water glass in the other. “I certainly hope not. I’m fed up with the real me.”

“Will you phone me every night?” Lily carried the garment bag. “Just call me and say, ‘Hey girl, I’m OK.’ Then you can hang up if you want to.”

Dev felt a tear puddle in the corner of her eye, but her hands were full and she couldn’t massage it. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. You know I worry about you as if you were my sister.”

“Lily, I’ll phone whenever I can.”

“Are you taking your laptop? Can you send me an e-mail from time to time?”

“It’s in the Cherokee. I’ll try, Lily.”

The two women paused in the laundry room, at the door that led to the garage. There was a long pause as their eyes shouted what their hearts couldn’t whisper.

Lily cleared her throat. “By the way, Ms. Worrell, where is your other cat?”

“I imagine Smoky’s asleep in the big basket on the top shelf of the hutch in the kitchen.”

“He sleeps up there?”

“Only when Josephine ticks him off.”

“Does that happen much?”

“24/7.” Develyn held the garage door open as Lily pushed her way through.

“And you aren’t telling your mother, your daughter, or anyone where you are going?”

Dev pressed the button on the automatic garage door opener. “I’m telling you. And I wrote to Dewayne.”

Lily opened the back door of the Jeep Cherokee and hung the garment bag on a hook. “Where is your brother?”

“Somewhere in the Persian Gulf, I think. He isn’t allowed to disclose his location. He volunteers for long tours of duty since his Audrey died. But he will understand. Dewa always understands me. I wish he was closer.”

“If Dewayne were standing here right now, what would he tell you?” Lily challenged.

Develyn shoved the duffel bag in the back seat and slammed the door. She stared down into the glass of ice water. “He’d say, ‘Devy-girl, don’t yank on the reins and hurt Brownie’s mouth. Put only your toes in the stirrups so you won’t get hung up, and don’t drip orange Popsicle on your white T-shirt.’”

Lily smiled and held the driver’s door open. “Your brother is unique.”

Develyn slipped in the car and plunked her ice water into the cup holder. “Yes, if there were two men in the world like him, I would have married the other one.”

Lily slammed the door and continued to stand in the crowded garage. “How far are you going tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have a reservation anywhere?”

“No.”

“Which route are you taking? Or is that a secret?”

Dev glanced in the rearview mirror to check her lipstick. “I’ll take 74 across to the Quad Cities, then get on Interstate 80 west.”

“You could stay with Ginny McGill tonight,” Lily suggested. “She’s teaching at a Christian school near Davenport. Do you want me to call her?”

“Lily, I don’t even want to see anyone I know, let alone stay with someone. This is way too crazy to have to explain to anyone else.”

“So, that leaves out Jack and Sarah Smithwick in Iowa City. They are both full professors now.”

“Yes, I know, the psychology department at the University of Iowa. That’s not very subtle, Ms. Martin.”

“OK, where will you stay tonight?”

“I’ll drive until I’m tired.”

“You’ll pull over if you get sleepy?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll find a nice motel before it gets dark?”

“You sound like my mother,” Dev scowled.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I will be careful, Lily.”

“You still didn’t answer me.”

“I will pull over and get a room when I get tired. That’s all I can say.”

“Dev, aren’t you scared?”

“No, I don’t think so. Kind of exciting, actually.”

“Well, I’m scared for you,” Lily admitted.

“Why?”

“Because there are weirdos out there. This isn’t going to be one of those scenes where you disappear off the face of the earth, is it?”

“That is not my plan.”

“What is your plan, you know, for returning home? This is your home, Dev Worrell.”

“I plan on being back by August 14th, so I can lead the teacher’s contingent from Riverbend Elementary to welcome the new superintendent.”

“Provided he doesn’t make a pass at Miss Chambers.”

“I hear he’s from Idaho,” Dev said.

Lily shook her head. “That isn’t good.”

“Why? Idaho always sounded like a nice place.”

“Yes, I agree. So why would a man want to leave such a nice place for central Indiana? He must have been chased out of the state.”

“Point well taken, Ms. Martin. You will have to e-mail me and let me know what is waiting for me when I return.”

“I like the sound of that. ‘When I return.’ Sometimes, Dev, this feels like I am saying good-bye forever.”

“Don’t be silly, Lily. I will be here to see just how Ms. Martin gets along with Dougie Baxter.”

“You really requested that he be in my class?”

“No, I requested that he be held back and put in Ken Ainsworth’s class. But Mr. and Mrs. Baxter would hear nothing of it. They asked me who the finest sixth-grade teacher was.”

“So, naturally you mentioned my name.”

“Of course. What else could I say?”

“Perhaps Dougie will mature over the summer,” Lily sighed.

“Maybe so, but whatever you do, don’t give him a metal ruler or let him near a screwdriver,” Develyn cautioned.

“Did they ever get your computer fixed?”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“I can’t believe you are really doing this.”

“It does feel a little strange.”

“Aha! You can change your mind. I’ll help you unpack.”

Develyn handed Lily the house key. “I said it feels strange, not that it feels bad. Actually, it feels good. Very good. And I’m not used to feeling good.”

“Is this where we say good-bye?” Lily pressed.

“You’ll feed the cats?”

“I’ll feed the tormentor and the tormentee.”

“OK, then I’m leaving.”

Lily motioned toward the street. “Back your Jeep into the driveway, then we’ll say good-bye.”

Develyn backed the silver Cherokee out onto the white gravel drive, past the Japanese pine, then punched the button to close the garage door.

Lily strolled up to the open window.

“Well, Ms. Martin, you enjoy teaching summer school.”

“Ms. Worrell, you have a wonderful summer. I hope that little ten-year-old girl is not disappointed.”

“Me too, Lily. Tell me I’m not crazy.”

Lily Martin reached into the front seat and hugged Develyn, then kissed her cheek. “I’ve known you since you graduated from Purdue. You’ve never done anything crazy…”

Develyn reached out and wiped the tear from Lily’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“… until now. Go on before I really start sobbing.”

Dev took a sip of ice water, then wiped her own eyes. “This is silly. Just think of it as if I’m going away to camp. I’m just going on a summer vacation.”

“Yeah, I know.” Lily folded her arms and held herself tight. “Bye, Devy-girl.”

“Bye, Lily. Thanks for always being here for me. If you were a man, I’d marry you.”

“Yeah, the guy who lives next door said the same thing to me,” Lily laughed. “Now, go on. Go have an adventure.”

Develyn drove the 2002 champagne silver-colored Jeep Cherokee to the end of the gravel driveway. When she looked back, Lily jogged toward her. She rolled the window back down. “What’s wrong?”

“Develyn Worrell, don’t you go out there to Wyoming and marry yourself a cowboy.”

Develyn peered over the top of her sunglasses. “Why did you say that?”

“For the life of me, I can’t think of any other good reason for you to go there.”

“Lily, I’ve been depressed for three years. I’ll go crazy … or worse … if I stay here. I promise you, I won’t marry a cowboy.”

Develyn pulled the Jeep out into Seminole Street.

There was a rap on the window.

She rolled it down. Again.

“If you do find a cowboy, Devy-girl, he has to have a friend who likes graying, plain-looking school teachers.”

“Lily, you are not a plain-looking, graying school teacher.”

Lily Martin jammed her head in the open window and kissed Develyn’s cheek again. “I’m scared for you, Ms. Worrell. You come back to me. I need you in my life. And Riverbend Elementary needs you.”

A gravel truck slid to a stop behind the Jeep and honked his air horn.

“That’s my signal.”

“Good-bye, Dev. May your summer be even better than your horse dreams.”

Framed in her rearview mirror, Develyn watched the white brick house, a dark haired sixth-grade teacher, and forty-five years of tightly controlled emotions begin to fade. She reached for the square gold box of tissue.