“I’m glad he’s better.”

Mark leaned forward. “Tell me about it, Jenny.”

She told him everything, looking straight at him, watching his eyes darken, watching as tight lines formed around his eyes and mouth, watching as his expression softened when she talked about the baby and her voice broke.

“You see. I can understand why Erich believed I’ve done these terrible things. But now I don’t believe I did them. So that means some woman is impersonating me. I was so sure it was Rooney but it can’t be her. Now I wonder… Do you think Elsa? It seems so farfetched that she’d hold a grudge for twenty-five years… Erich was only a child…”

Mark did not reply. His face was troubled now, grave. “You don’t think I could do those things?” Jenny burst out. “My God, are you like Erich? Do you think…”

The nerve under her left eye began to jump. She put her hand up to her face to stop it, then felt her knees start to tremble. Throwing her head down on her lap, she hugged her legs. Her whole body was shaking now, out of control.

“Jenny. Jenny.” Mark’s arms were around her, holding her. Her head was against his throat. His lips were on her hair.

“I couldn’t hurt anyone. I can’t sign and say that I could…”

His arms tightened. “Erich is in… insecure… Oh, Jenny.”

Long minutes passed before the trembling stopped. She made herself pull away. She felt his arms release her. Wordlessly they looked at each other, then Jenny turned away. There was an afghan draped over the back of the couch. He tucked it around her. “I think we could both use coffee.”

While he was in the kitchen, she looked into the fireplace, watched as the log split and broke and caved into glowing embers. Suddenly she felt exhausted. But it was a different kind of fatigue, not tense and numbing but relaxing, the kind that came after a race had been run.

Unburdening herself to Mark, she felt as though she had rolled a stone off her shoulders. Listening to the clink of the cups and saucers in the kitchen, smelling the perking coffee, hearing his footsteps as he walked between stove and cabinet, remembering the feel of those arms…

When Mark brought in the coffee, she was able to make practical statements that helped dispel the emotionally charged atmosphere. “Erich knows I won’t stay with him. The minute he brings the girls back I’ll leave.”

“You’re sure you’re going to leave him, Jenny?”

“As fast as I can. But first I want to force him to bring the girls back. They’re my children.”

“He’s right that as their adoptive father, legally they’re just as much his as yours. And, Jenny, Erich is capable of staying away indefinitely. Let me talk to a few people. I have a lawyer friend who’s an expert in family law. But until then, when Erich phones, whatever you do, don’t antagonize him; don’t tell him you’ve been talking to me. Promise me that?”

“Of course.”

He drove her home, stopping the car at the millhouse. But he insisted on walking with her through the quiet fields to the house. “I want to be sure you’re in,” he said. “Go right upstairs and if everything is all right, pull down the shades in your room.”

“What do you mean, if everything is all right?”

“I mean that if by any chance Erich decided to come back tonight and realized that you were out, there might be trouble. I’ll call you tomorrow after I speak to a few people.”

“No, don’t. Let me phone you. Clyde knows every call I get.”

When they got to the dairy barn, he said, “I’ll watch you from here. Try not to worry.”

“I’ll try. The one thing I don’t worry about is that Erich does adore Tina and Beth. He’ll be very good to them. That at least is a consolation.”

Mark squeezed her hand but did not answer. Quickly she slipped along the side of the path through the west door into the kitchen and looked around. The cup and saucer she had left draining on the sink were still there. She smiled bitterly. She could be sure Erich hadn’t come. That cup and saucer would have been put away.

Hurrying upstairs, she went into the master bedroom and began to pull down the shades. From one of the windows she watched as Mark’s tall form disappeared into the darkness.

Fifteen minutes later she was in bed. This was the hardest time of all, when she couldn’t walk across the hall and tuck Tina and Beth in. She tried to think of all the ways Erich would find to amuse them. They had loved going to the county fair with him last summer. Several times he’d spent a whole day with them in the amusement park. He was endlessly patient with the children.

But both girls had sounded so fretful when he let them speak to her that first night he’d taken them away.

Of course by now they’d be used to her absence, just the way they’d gotten used to her being in the hospital.

As she had told Mark, there was the one consolation that she wasn’t worried about the girls.

Jenny remembered the way Mark had squeezed her hand when she said that.

Why?

All night she lay awake. If not Rooney… if not Elsa… then who?

At dawn she got up. She could not wait for Erich to come to her. She tried to close off the terrible nagging fears, the awful possibilities that had occurred to her during the night.

The cabin. She had to find it. Every instinct told her the place to begin was in the cabin.

35

She began looking for the cabin at dawn. At four A.M. she’d turned on the radio and heard the weather report. The temperature was dropping sharply. It was now twelve degrees Fahrenheit. A strong cold wind from Canada was driving it down. A major snowstorm was predicted. It should hit the Granite Place area by tomorrow evening.

She made a thermos of coffee to take with her, put an extra sweater under her ski suit. Her breasts were so sore. Thinking of the baby so much during the night had been enough to start them throbbing. She could not let herself think about Tina and Beth now. She could only pray, numb, pleading words… Take care of them, please. Let no harm come…

She knew the cabin must be about twenty minutes’ walk from the edge of the woods. She’d start at the spot where Erich always disappeared into the trees and crisscross back and forth from that spot. It didn’t matter how long it took.

At eleven she returned to the house, heated soup, changed her socks and mittens, found another scarf to tie around her face and set out again.

At five, just as the shadows were lengthening to near darkness, just as she was despairing that she would have to give up the search, she skied over a hilly mound and came on the small, bark-roofed cabin that had been the first Krueger home in Minnesota.

It had a closed-up, unused look, but what had she expected? That the chimney would be capped with smoke, lamps would be glowing, that… Yes. She dared to hope that Beth and Tina might be in here with Erich.

She kicked off her skis and with the hammer broke a window, then stepped over the low sill into the cabin. It was frigidly cold, with the deep chill of an unheated, sunless place. Blinking to adjust her eyes to the gloom, Jenny went to the other windows, pulled up the shades and looked around.

She saw a twenty-foot-square room, a Franklin stove, a faded Oriental rug, a couch… And paintings.

It seemed that every square inch of the walls was covered with Erich’s art. Even the dim light could not hide the exquisite power and beauty of his work. As always the awareness of his genius calmed her. The fears she had harbored during the night suddenly seemed ludicrous.

The tranquillity of the subjects he had chosen: the polebarn in a winter storm, the doe, head poised about to flee into the woods, the calf reaching up to its mother. How could the person who could paint like this with so much sensitivity, so much authority, also be so hostile, so suspicious?