Their mother sat in a chair, working a more complex pattern with variegated blues.
They worked in comfortable silence.
“Alice, Cora.”
Alice’s fingers stopped, curled tight at Celia’s voice. And her eyes latched on Maureen’s face.
Her shoulders hunched, her chin dipped.
“I’ve brought you a visitor.”
“I’m making a scarf. I’m making a green scarf. Visitors aren’t allowed.”
“They’re allowed now.”
“I like the green.” Maureen heard her own words, swallowed the tremor in her voice before she took a few steps forward. “I like to crochet, too. Ma taught me.” Maureen bent down, kissed Cora’s cheek, and with her hand on Cora’s shoulder smiled at the woman staring at her. “It’s so good to see you, Alice. I’m your sister, Maureen. I look different than I did before.”
“I need to make the scarf.”
“You go ahead. Ma braided your hair, didn’t she? It looks nice.”
“Women are vain creatures, painting false faces to seduce men with lustful thoughts.”
“We’re made in God’s image,” Cora said calmly as she continued to work. “I’d think God wants us to present a pleasing image when we can. And he said to go forth and propagate, so a little lust helps that along, doesn’t it? Those stitches are nice and even, Alice.”
Alice looked down at them, and Maureen saw her lips try to curve. “It’s good?”
“It’s very good. You learn quick, always did. I never could get you to sit still long enough to learn needlework when you were little.”
“I was bad. Spare the rod, spoil the child.”
“Don’t be silly. You were just rambunctious. You did like planting flowers, had a creative hand with that. I loved when you and Reenie would plant your sister garden.”
“Impatiens and geraniums,” Maureen began.
“Reenie, Reenie, Reenie,” Alice muttered. “Always bossing, always better.”
“Alice, Alice, Alice,” Maureen echoed over her hammering heart. “Always pushy, always bitchy.”
Eyes narrowed, Alice looked up. And though her throat went dry, Maureen held the stare, and smiled. “I’m still glad to see you, Alice.”
“Reenie never liked Alice.”
“I wouldn’t say never. There were times I didn’t like you, but you were always my sister. I still plant the garden, the sister garden in the spring. Impatiens and geraniums, sweet alyssum and sweet peas.”
“Snapdragons. I like red ones.”
Now her eyes burned, seemed to throb with the tears pushing behind them. “I still plant the red ones.”
“I have to finish this, I have to do a good job. Flowers don’t feed anybody. No point in planting flowers. Vain as women, and as useless.”
“Bees need them. Birds, too.” Cora reached out, squeezed Maureen’s hand. “They’re God’s creatures.”
“Sir said no flowers!” She snapped out the words. “You plant beans and carrots, potatoes in the barrels, cabbage and tomatoes. And you hoe and you weed, and you water if you know what’s good for you. It’s almost planting time. I have to get back. I have to finish this scarf.”
Celia touched Maureen’s arm, but Maureen wasn’t finished. Not quite yet. “I could use help with the planting. The kitchen garden and the flowers.”
“Sir said no flowers.” A tear slipped down Alice’s cheek as she worked fiercely with the hook. “If you say please, he has to hit you to show you what no means.”
“We have them on the ranch. Would you like to come home, Alice, and plant with me where no one will hit you?”
“Back to my house?”
“Back to the ranch, back to your home. Plant the sister garden with me again.”
“God punishes the wicked.”
Maureen fervently hoped so. “But not sisters, Alice. Not sisters who plant flowers together and tend them, who watch them grow. Come home, Alice. Nobody’ll hit you again.”
“You hit me.”
“You usually hit me first, and you’re not supposed to tell Ma.”
More tears spilled, but through them some of Alice showed through. “I don’t know what’s real.”
“That’s okay. I know you are. You go ahead and work on that scarf. I’ll come back later and see how it looks.”
Maureen stepped back.
“You cut your hair.”
It took all her will to keep her hand from shaking as she brushed it over her own hair. “Do you like it?”
“I … Women aren’t supposed to cut their hair.”
“That’s all right, Alley Cat,” Cora said. “Not all rules are real, that’s for certain. Some are just made-up. Reenie, would you see if they’ll bring us some tea? We like our mid-morning tea, don’t we, Alice?”
Alice nodded, went back to her scarf.
The minute Maureen stepped back, she pressed her hands to her face. Expecting the reaction, Celia put arms around her. “You did great. You did better than I expected. She remembered you.”
“She remembered I was bossy. I guess I was.”
“She remembered her sister, a dynamic. She remembered red snapdragons. She’ll remember more. This was a good thing, Maureen.”
“He twisted the life out of her, Celia.”
“He tried, but it’s still there, and coming back. You just held a therapy session, Maureen, with really positive results.”
“She can come home?”
“Let me talk to Dr. Grove. We need to work out the rules of the road, and you need that professional in-home help for right now. But I think if you’re careful, if you’re patient, continuing her recovery at home might be a good step.
“I’ll tell her nurse about the tea. Go get your daughter, take a walk.”
“I could use one, and I’m about to lean on Bo pretty hard.”
“She strikes me as someone who can handle that.”
Maureen nodded. “She’s in there, Celia. Alice is in there.”
The next twenty-four hours spun around Alice again, this time for her homecoming.
*
In the ring, Bodine held the mare’s bridle.
“I know you don’t have time for this.” Jessica strapped on her riding helmet. “You’ve got a backlog of work you’re catching up on, and if you have a free hour—which you don’t—you should take a nap.”
“I don’t argue with Nana, and she pinned me down hard about giving you a lesson. She says you’re not to miss another one. Our world’s upside down, Jessie. This is normal. I could use an hour of normal more than a nap.”
“I wish I could do more to help.”
“You’ve taken on more of Rory’s work, and Mom’s, just like Sal’s taken on more of mine. Callen’s spent damn near as much time at the hospital as any of the rest of us. We’ve had plenty of help.”
Bodine leaned her cheek against the mare’s. “I don’t know if it’s going to be easier or harder after today. Mom and the grannies are determined she comes home today, and they’re probably right. The doctors say it may help trigger her memory. And God knows we all want her to remember enough so Sheriff Tate can find this bastard.