N o one met up with Dorothy. Theo couldn’t have been happier to leave the girl on her doorstep and start for home. He had already reached his automobile and driven half the remaining distance, before he realized he had not responded to her thanks at all.
Exhausted, he hardly knew why, as he had done nothing except stand around watching other people. Theo headed into the parlor once home. He found himself greeted by a sobbing Hazel, who ran to him the moment she caught sight of him. A glance at Myrtle on the sofa prompted an intense desire to turn around and leave again.
Myrtle Sinclair, her hair an uncombed mess, and still wearing her robe and nightgown, rose in what she probably considered majestic ire. Theo only considered her overdramatic.
“What have you done to my daughter?”
Theo looked down at Hazel, who clung to him while she still sobbed quietly. He had put a hand on her head automatically, but otherwise, he couldn’t begin to imagine what Myrtle meant. He looked back at the woman blankly.
“Don’t give me an empty stare!” Myrtle stomped her foot.
Hazel held onto him tighter. He glanced down and then back up. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, Myrtle. None at all.”
“Mother!” Myrtle shrieked the name, Hazel jumping in response. “I am your stepmother, and you will show me respect!”
Theo couldn’t. He really couldn’t call her by such a name. Especially not in his current mood. He felt his sister shaking and tried to deescalate the conversation. He couldn’t call her his mother, but he also didn’t have to call her by any name at all.
“I don’t know what you mean with regard to Hazel. I’ve hardly seen her at all today.”
“It doesn’t matter if it was today!” Myrtle stamped her foot again. “How dare you tell her everything will be all right! How dare you assure her your brother will come home safely! How dare you tell her that he will be coming back at all!”
Theo stared at her. “What are you talking about? He will come back.”
“You don’t know that!” She, eyes wide with anger, looked maniacal. “Whoever killed your father—we don’t know why they killed him! If they want something from the Sinclair family, they will kill every one of us to get it!”
Hazel’s sobs increased. Theo, still trying to process Myrtle or her mood, lifted his sister into his arms.
“Don’t you dare take my daughter off and start telling her more applesauce about everyone being all right. Just give her to me.”
Theo shook his head. “I think not.”
“Theodore Charles Sinclair—”
“You are clearly not yourself at the moment.” He wanted to laugh at her use of his full name, as out of place as it would be. “I am not keeping your daughter from you—I am keeping my sister with me until you are in a calmer and more rational state.”
“She has to be warned. When he comes after the rest of us—”
“She is seven !” He finally raised his voice. Hazel jumped, and he lowered it. “You don’t terrify a little girl with predictions that you have no evidence for. You’re her mother, you should know that.”
“You don’t know that they won’t happen, Theo.”
“You don’t know that they will!”
Myrtle looked ready to argue, but Theo shook his head. “Hazel and I will be outside with the goats. It’s about time to milk them anyway.”
He half-expected Myrtle to follow, but she didn’t. Hazel sobs quieted, but she didn’t say anything until they reached the farmyard.
“I’m scared, Theo.”
He nudged her, so that she would raise her head to look up at him. “We’ll be all right. Somehow.”
Her chin still quivered, and her eyes glistened. “Will Mama be all right?”
“I hope so.” For your sake. Certainly not for mine.
Hazel hesitated for a long moment. “I wish…” She sniffled. “I wish you could pray with me like Artie does. I keep trying by myself. I wish you knew how to do it with me.”
Theo sighed, pulling her close again. She wrapped her arms around him tight, laying her head against his shoulder.
“I think I wish I did too, Hazel. But I don’t.”