As Adam drove, Lona’s stiff and ramrod straight countenance cast a shadow in the darkness, as did Mags’s worried face. Sad little Delie just sniffled. Delie, reprimanded with a slap at conveying her disappointment at missing the fireworks, wiped away tears with a grubby middy sleeve. As punishment, Delie had been charged to keep Solomon. For a five-year-old, Delie was doing a great job. Solomon made light fluttering noises of sleep in the backseat as his young aunt clung to him. John had the other girls in the wagon and Adam hoped he would make a brisk pace home. Even picking his way through the dark, the car got there first. He helped the ladies take everything inside and repacked his medical bag to make sure he had whatever he needed, if anything, to help Ruby. He worked swiftly, with fear-stiffened fingers, to make sure he was prepared. Mags came to the doorway. “Mama wants you to go down to see about what they doing to Ruby.”
