CHAPTER ONE

      One month later...

      THE KITCHEN WAS EMPTY. Kai sighed, hoping this wasn’t going to be one of those difficult days with Thomas refusing to go to school. To complicate matters, she was due at the hospital in Lima to drive her parents back to the farm. Her mother had been staying with her friend, Janet, in town while her father recovered from his stroke. Perhaps that was it. Thomas wanted to be around when his grandpa came home.

      “Thomas?” she called up the stairs. No response.

      Last night, she’d thought of asking him if he wanted to go to the hospital with her, but decided she’d be enabling his reluctance to attend school. She suspected a bullying problem, though he hadn’t complained. Of course, Thomas didn’t complain about anything. That would involve talking, and he hadn’t spoken a word to anyone in a year. Not since his father died.

      Kai knew there was no point in delving into that painful memory. Too much to do right here in the now. That’s what had kept her going since her arrival at the farm, believing that eventually she’d be able to recover her former life—the one before her dad’s stroke and her return to Lima. Heck, even the one before that dog.

      “Thomas? It’s getting late.” She went back through the kitchen and out onto the porch. Just past the shed and between the barn and the veggie garden stood Thomas, in his dark green rain jacket, with the dog.

      The day she’d arrived at the farm, after picking Thomas up at Janet’s house, both dog and boy had been wary of each other. Thomas had clearly been interested in the animal, constantly looking at him through the crate. Amigo, not so much. His frequent sidelong glances at Thomas had been fearful, as if he were expecting a thrown stone or a cuff on the head. It had taken Kai several minutes and lots of treats to coax Amigo out of his crate once they’d reached the farm. After gobbling up his reward, he’d slunk off to a corner of the garage and lain down, accepting whatever fate had in store for him.

      Kai had wished she could speak dog language to reassure the pitiful animal, but knew eventually he would feel, look and act like a happy dog. That was her hope. If things didn’t turn out that way, she’d have to come up with another game plan for Amigo. One she already knew she’d have trouble implementing.

      Hard to believe it had been only four weeks since she’d driven to Brooklyn from Newark, her most pressing worry the dog dozing in the back seat. And it was especially ironic that the answer to the question of what to do with the dog had been revealed only the next day, after her mother’s phone call. Take him with you. As if she’d had any choice. Dropping him off at the pound—as that woman at Captain Rossi’s house had advised—had never been an option. She knew all too well that grown animals that weren’t considered “cute” often weren’t adopted. And cute just didn’t cut it for Amigo.

      But that was weeks ago. The changes—physical and otherwise—were remarkable. Amigo had transformed into a regular mutt, and he and Thomas had become a team. Right now, the two seemed to be having a conversation: Thomas, gesturing with a stick in his right hand, first to the garden and then to the ground at his feet; the dog, staring up at him. It was difficult to tell if any part of Thomas’s message was getting through, judging by Amigo’s cocked head.

      Thomas raised his arm and threw the stick. The dog’s head swiveled, following the stick’s arc into the garden plot. He looked back at Thomas, who thrust his right arm into the air, pointing to where the stick had landed. Kai held her breath, and before she’d counted to ten, the dog rose and ran after it. Well, perhaps “sauntered” was more appropriate. When Amigo reached the stick, he sniffed it a bit before walking back to Thomas, mouth empty.

      “Thomas,” she called. “It’s almost time to head up to the road.” He turned her way but didn’t move. She knew he wasn’t the kind of kid to instantly react to such reminders, so she waited just long enough to see him reluctantly head toward the kitchen door before she went inside.

      She sipped her coffee while Thomas ate his cereal and thought perhaps she ought to change her mind about taking him with her to the hospital. She knew he’d been missing his grandparents and his mood this morning might not be just about going to school. When he slurped up the last of the milk in his bowl, she said, “Would you like to take a day off school and come with me to pick up Grandpa and Grandma?”

      He just nodded, but she’d seen the instant spark in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll walk up the road and tell the bus driver while you go make your bed.”

      The early-morning rain had already vanished, and the sun was breaking through the cloud cover by the time she’d walked out to the main road and back, her sweatshirt sticking to her. Thomas was waiting patiently on the stoop leading from the kitchen. Kai’s father’s old Buick was parked in front of the two-car garage adjacent to the farmhouse. Just as she was opening the driver’s door, Kai noticed Amigo lurking near the garden. There’d been recent evidence of a groundhog, and the dog must have caught its scent.

      “Um, maybe we better put Amigo in the garage while we’re gone. I don’t think he’ll wander off, but I can’t be sure.”

      Thomas’s face revealed his displeasure at this, but he beckoned to Amigo, who was watching them from his sentry point in the garden. Kai marveled again at how the boy seemed able to communicate with the dog without uttering a word. It was almost as if the two could read each other’s minds. Amigo trotted over to them and followed Thomas into the garage. From the drooping tail, Kai guessed he was as unhappy at this development as Thomas.

      She revved the engine, made a creaking turn and drove down the gravel lane toward the highway leading to town. Rolling down the window to let in some fresh air, she was struck again by the huge silence of the countryside—except for the crunch of tires and the ominous tick-ticking of the engine.

      Silence. She’d lived with it for a month now and found it oppressive. There were days when she wanted to shake Thomas and cry, “Just speak to me. Say anything. One word. Please.” But there was no point. He’d come around in his own time. Or so the psychologist who’d been treating him since David’s death claimed. Elective mutism, he’d called it. A way of controlling something in a world that seemed out of control to an eight-year-old who’d endured the loss of his mother when he was five and then the trauma of his father’s death two years later.

      “Don’t push him,” was the constant phrase and Kai was almost sick of hearing it. She couldn’t help thinking that maybe Thomas needed a push. But then she’d look at his small, pale face, so like her brother’s at the same age, and the pain of all that the family had suffered these past three years would fill her up again, followed by the inevitable guilt. She’d been gallivanting all over the world while her aging parents had lived with that pain and the tangible symbol of it—Thomas’s silence—staring them in the face each moment of every day.

      * * *

      MARGARET PLACED THE folded pajamas into her husband’s duffel, set the toiletry bag on top and paused briefly to stare down at the slippers on his feet. They’d be all right for the ride home. Besides, she hadn’t bothered bringing his shoes to the hospital. He’d only begun walking again—if one could call the shuffling gait that—in the past few days. She zipped up the bag and smiled at Harry.

      “Well, this is it. The day we’ve been waiting for.”

      He looked up at her and mumbled a garbled reply that kept her guessing for a