Sumner Woodrow's whole house was in shambles. The roosters yonder had long started bringing up the dawn as he made his way into his mother's room, the kitten following him. Downstairs not a dish was in the cupboards not a book was on the shelf and not a bed had been left unturned.

He pushed the door open with a creak and stepped into the room stepping into a time of quill pens and crinolines and all other things no one used anymore. The floor was dust laden but as the gas lamp overtook the room he saw all was just how he had left it before going off to school. He had returned a lonely and angry child with no one to be cross with but slowly the anger turned to a hunger to find the man that he owed his existence to.

The neatly made bed still held a gentle crease in the shape of a person sitting. He remembered his mother had sat there quietly until the coach arrived to take him to the station. He stopped when he came to the chest at the foot of the bed. Many times he had spied his mother touching her wedding dress that had been laid to rest therein. One time he had hidden in the wardrobe and seen her nervously open, it stick her hand in only to close it again quickly. It had been during a visit from his uncle.

He switched the gas lamp to his other hand as he knelt down. His mother had then fled the room to receive her brother looking ashen. In the dim light the chest called to him like the song of a siren. Unable to resets he knelt down before it and tucked his finger under the lip. It had a lock but he never recalled his mother using a key. Gently he pushed up on the lid and it gladly yielded. Perhaps after so many years in isolation it was ready to reveal its secrets.

The light shone on the contents revealing a bonnet and a set of gloves. Water color paintings, a bundle of wilted wild flowers that still held traces of their yellow and purple colors, a scrapbook with ribbon a lock of baby hair in a frame, all piled on one side and on the other the wedding dress.

Sumner touched the stiff fabric. It was beautiful and he thought it a shame that his mother hadn't had a daughter. He lifted the wedding dress from the chest and placed it on the bed. Underneath it he found bundled postcards, most from a woman named Susanne, and a dead moth.

"Serves you right you little scoundrel."

Susanne. He recalled this being his maternal grandmother. Among them were letters from various friends and one from his uncle.

Eden

My dear sister, why do you not return to us? Pray tell me, my darling what keeps you? If only you knew how much we miss you, how Mother longs to kiss you. I have come to realize that I enjoyed your company more than that of men. I beg you, return to us, and make amends. No one of us begrudges you and will welcome your new family with open arms. Whatever you fear, cease, for we are a family who loves you and will protect you. Eden, dearest, dearest, Eden don't let my heart break with your absence. Please come home.

Solomon

Sumner scoffed. He never realized how much his uncle loved his mother. She after all, never seemed to look forward to his visits. He thought to keep the postcards to read later and reached up to the bed to return the dress to the chest. As he pulled it down something slipped from its folds and landed on the floor beside him with a thud.

Releasing the dress he picked up the green book and held it to the light. By the spine he could tell it had been opened many times. His heart leapt. Had he found what he'd subconsciously been looking for?

He opened the book and the dates jumped out at him as the pages turned. Getting into a more comfortable position and sat and scanned through the journal. It soon became clear that it belonged not to his mother but his father. "Come on, tell me something, come on." He slowed down as he neared the desired date and paused when he found it.

April 18th 1872

I was supposed to drown the child and say Eden lost it but the child hardly looks black. I can't carry out the plan and will raise it as my own. Eden and I have been carrying on this twisted masquerade since she returned and this new act of deceit will make no never mind. I can't break Eden's heart again. I hope to God it is a good enough plan. Her family cannot know and his family cannot know. All I can devise is to tell both sides that I got rid of the child. You see, I can't even lie about murder. God have mercy on my soul, but I know no other way to spare us all save for a lie. Eden and I shall go away for a year and return with the child and neither shall be the wiser. Baby Sumner will grow up a privileged white child and he also shall be none the wiser. Solomon will be none the wiser.

Sumner felt a clamp around his throat and looked at the back of his hand. Suddenly his skin didn't look near white enough. He felt a new sort of pain inside himself. He scanned the pages until a name jumped out at him. He scanned back to the top of the paragraph.

I cannot sleep. I can still hear Eden Christenson screaming his name. Begging him to stop. Had I been there with them in Michigan I would have told them only a fool would go back. You see I am to be married soon in secret by a paid priest. The woman I am to marry is the tragically widowed Eden Montgomery nee Christenson. Her brother spun the idea himself. He says he knows I have always desired her and should be thankful for a chance to marry a woman so far out of my reach. And it is true that I have been in love with Eden since her coming out ball. Now she is to be my wife but this wedding shall be veiled the starkest black.

Eden fell for the ruse of her brother's letter and she returned home. It was on the road to Brickyard at Custardville that Christenson and all his very well to do comrades such as Elijah Burnstead assembled there. I confess that I was there but I and a few others had been told we were going to protect Eden and Talbot Montgomery. As soon as the carriage halted Solomon pulled out his revolver and shot Talbot. It was horrific for all. Maybe others didn't like Montgomery but they hadn't come on that rainy day to kill a man.

Eden tried to intervene but Solomon turned on her. Ignoring her pleas for him to stop. "Solomon! Solomon! Please do not do it! Please, my brother!"

I finally stopped his assault but there was nothing to be done for Montgomery. They dumped him in the clearing adjacent the trail and now as I write this under thunder my conscious toys with me for leaving that poor man there to rot. I say a prayer for Talbot Montgomery, but I say a prayer for Solomon Christenson too.

It was all there. Sumner found the room to be very hot and unfastened the first button of his shirt. Talbot Montgomery had been murdered and he was supposed to have followed and the one who ordered his death had been his own uncle, a favorite of the county.

Sumner picked up the letter from his uncle. All of the terms of endearment and pleading meant nothing. He had called them back to kill them. His adoptive father had written that he said a prayer for his uncle Solomon, but Sumner could not pray for that wolf in sheep's clothing. No, he wanted him to pay.

/

On Sunday Mr. Fairchild led his colorful array of women to the church. As the preacher spoke about forgiveness and love of neighbor Miriam realized how difficult both things could be when your neighbor was unkind.

"It is one of my favorite parables," Alifair said on the walk home. "The good Samaritan."

"I think if I saw a wounded white man on the road I would cross to other side like the priest," said Hannah. "He might be pretending and rob me."

"Perhaps I would send for help," Ottaline said. "It would trouble me to leave him lying there. Just think of the heat and the flies. Perhaps I'd give him my bonnet to keep him from the sun."

"What would you do, Miriam?" Hannah asked.

"It would depend who he was," Miriam said. "I can think of a few I wouldn't so much as look at."

"You don't mean that, Miriam?" Selene said.

Miriam sighed. "Perhaps," she said and walked a little faster.

/

After changing out of their Sunday clothes, Heloise, Ottaline and Providence went down to the creek to moor the row boat properly for the next storm was coming. When they had finished Ottaline insisted on collecting flowers for her bonnet.

"It looks rather plain for a Sunday," she said then knelt down at the water's edge to look at her reflection.

"Let's see how well you look all wet!" Heloise said making like she was going to push her in. Ottaline shrieked at the thought and Providence and Heloise took off running.

"I'll get you two," Ottaline said getting to her feet and running after them all the while laughing. They ran onto the bridge that crossed the creek and after stumbling up the bank and nearly losing her beloved bonnet Ottaline went after them. She ran onto the bridge and screamed as a dark horse reared up in front of her.

The rider calmed the horse and glared down at her. "Jump out at me like that again and I'll cave in your bonnet as well as your head!" Rothschild billowed. He used his crop on his horse and galloped on across the bridge.

Not just a little shaken Ottaline hurried to catch up with Providence and Heloise.

/

It wasn't until supper that she brought up the ordeal. "Uncle Ezra, I'm in danger of having my bonnet caved in," she said unable to eat her mashed potatoes.

Ezra looked around the table, "What does this mean?"

"Mr. Rothschild," Ottaline said. "I startled his horse on the bridge and he threatened to cave in my bonnet and me as well."

"Mr. Rothschild threatened you?" Ezra asked. "This is getting out of hand. I wager it has a lot to do with that old house. If people are going to threaten you then you will have to let it go." Pleas of protest arose immediately. "I can't have anyone of you hurt."

"Oh, Papa not Twelve Briars," Selene said. "I can't give that up too."

Mr. Fairchild was saddened that he had once broken his daughter's heart. "Well be careful," he said. "I'll talk to Mr. Christenson and see if he can't keep those boys in line."