Carnal Innocence

say to her that could get the idea out of her head that she was responsible. It was always Mr. Beau for her, Caroline. She was a pretty girl, and young, and she saw a bit of Austin now and again. But she neverpromised to marry him. That was an idea he got fixed in that hateful brain of his.”
    “He had no right to do what he did, Della. No one could think otherwise.”
    “She did.” She sniffled and wiped a tear away with her knuckle. “Not that he had the right, but that somehow she’d pushed him to it. Then she found out she was carrying, and Mr. Beau had been up in Richmond the whole two weeks during her fertile time, so she had to figure Austin had gotten her pregnant. There was no question of telling anybody then. She didn’t want the child hurt. She did her best to forget, but she worried. And when Josie would go off wild, she worried more. She had her mama’s looks, Josie did, just like her brothers. But I guess, because we knew, we could see something of him in her.”
    So could she, Caroline thought, but said nothing.
    “She wasn’t to know. Not ever. But since she did, I wish she’d come to me so I could have told her how her mother tried to protect her.” Della sighed and dabbed at her eyes. Then she went very still. “But she knew. Lord help us, she knew. Is that why she … Oh, my baby, my poor baby.”
    “Don’t.” Caroline cupped Della’s hand between both of her own and leaned close to comfort. There was much that had been said in that shadowy bedroom that would remain there. In the dark. “She was ill, Della. That’s all we know. They’re all dead now—Josie, her parents, Austin. There’s no one to blame. I think because of the living, because of the ones we love, the secret should be buried with them.”
    Struggling for control, Della nodded. “Maybe Josie’ll rest easier that way.”
    “Maybe we all will.”
    She’d hoped he would come. Caroline had wanted to give him time, but it had been a week since Josie’s funeral, and she’d hardly seen him. Never alone.
    Innocence was doing its best to lick its wounds and go on. From Susie, Caroline had learned that Tucker hadbeen to see the family members of each victim. What had been said behind those closed doors remained private, but she hoped it had brought a kind of healing.
    The summer was passing. The delta had a short respite from the heat when the temperatures dropped to the eighties. It wouldn’t last, but she’d learned to appreciate each moment.
    After hooking the pup’s bright red collar to his leash, she started down the lane. The flowers her grandmother had planted years before were thriving. It took only a little care and patience.
    Useless tugged at his leash and she quickened her pace. Perhaps they would walk all the way down to Sweetwater. Perhaps it was time to try.
    She turned at the end of her lane and saw Tucker’s car almost instantly. It looked as snazzy and arrogant as it had the first time she’d seen it barreling toward her. The sight of it made her smile. A heart wasn’t as easily healed as mangled metal, but it could be done. With care and patience.
    With a cluck of her tongue she pulled Useless back onto the lawn. She knew where to find Tucker.
    He was fond of water, of still, quiet water. He hadn’t been sure he could sit here again. Coming back had been a kind of test. But the deep green shade and the dark, placid pond were working their magic. Contentment was still out of reach, but he’d gotten a grip on acceptance.
    The dog raced out of the bush, barking, and plopped his forelegs on Tucker’s knees.
    “Hey there, boy. Hey, fella. You’re getting some size on you, aren’t you?”
    “I believe you’re trespassing,” Caroline said as she moved into the clearing.
    Tucker offered a halfhearted smile as he scratched the dog’s ears. “Your grandmother let me come and sit here a spell from time to time.”
    “Well then.” She sat on the log beside him. “I wouldn’t want to break tradition.” She watched the doglick Tucker’s hands and wrists, “He’s missed you. So have I.”
    “I’ve been … hard to be around lately.” He tossed a twig for the dog to chase. “Heat’s let up,” he said lamely.
    “I noticed.”
    “I expect it’ll be back before long.”
    She linked her hands in her lap. “I expect.”
    He stared at the water awhile longer, then went on staring at it when he spoke again. “Caroline, we haven’t talked about that night.”
    “And we don’t have