Holly shoved a finger so close to his now multicolored eye that he jumped and almost fell out of his chair. “I was not, and I haven’t drank or smoked since we left Austin.”

“What’s going to happen when you get your phone back?” Braden argued. “All your pot-smoking, partying Austin friends are going to be texting and calling.”

Holly did one of her famous head wiggles. “I’ll take care of it. Are you going to run away and go back to your little hoodlum friends?”

“Nope,” he responded with a perfect imitation of her head roll. “I’m going to join 4-H and then FFA.”

Holly sighed loudly. “He’s horrible, Mama. Why didn’t you give him away at birth?”

“Because you needed me to take care of you,” Braden laughed.

At his last word, she stormed out of the room.

Someday they were going to stop their incessant arguing and be friends. At least Lily hoped so. Supper was in the oven—dessert in the refrigerator. She had a few minutes, so she wandered upstairs to see what, if any, other entries Rachel might have written in the journal.

“You got time to read another passage in the journal?” She rapped on Holly’s open door.

“Yes, ma’am.” Holly beat her mother to Lily’s bed.

Lily opened the flap of the old oak secretary, took the journal out, and opened it to the page where she’d left her bookmark. She was glad to see Rachel’s name on the next page, but sad that again so much time had passed between the new date and the previous one.

She read, “Rachel O’Riley Callahan, June 1926.”

“Yay!” Holly squealed. “We still got Rachel.”

Lily went on with a smile on her face:

“My sweet daughter Sophia has married and left Oklahoma. She fell in love with a man named Fred, who came to our parts a few months ago to buy cattle for his place in Texas. They corresponded when he went back to his home, and he asked her to marry him. I can’t say I’m happy about it. He still lives with his German parents, who I understand are very set in their ways. But she is eighteen and her mind was made up. It was either let her marry him or else she would have run away and done it anyway. She writes me a letter once a week. I learned that she hasn’t settled into the town or the place so well. I didn’t realize what a good friend she was to me until she wasn’t here anymore. To say that I miss her would be an understatement. I read her letters over and over and wish she would have listened to me. I could see that Fred was a controlling man, probably much like his own father. She wasn’t raised to bow down and kiss a man’s feet. I swear that I will be a nosy mother and give my boys a talking-to if they ever treat a woman like they own her. I just wish I could do that for Sophia. She sounds so homesick and miserable in her letters. I’ve told her that she can come back home, but she said that she made her bed and she will lay in it.”

“I don’t like that name—Fred,” Holly declared. “I’ll never marry a man with that name.”

“It’s not the name,” Lily told her. “He could be named Dixon or even Benjamin and still be a controlling fellow.”

Lily could hardly believe that a daughter of Rachel’s would take that kind of treatment. To think of a man controlling a woman like that fired up a mad spell in her. She closed the journal, wishing that she hadn’t even read that page. Then she realized that her anger was directed not just at Fred but at herself, too. She’d let Wyatt control her. He’d wanted a son to carry on the Anderson name since he was an only child and his father had been one, too. To him, having a son had been very important, and he wanted one immediately. Even though Lily had wanted to wait a couple of years, she’d thrown away her birth control pills on their wedding day. A year later, she’d given birth to Holly. Wyatt had been very disappointed, and childcare had been expensive, so he’d talked her into giving up her job and working from home. He’d been so good at manipulating her that she had actually thought for years that the idea had been hers. Then Braden was born, and she thought Wyatt would be happy. He was for a little while, but then he began to work more and more, spend less and less time with her and the kids, and their marriage had simply died in its sleep.

“Mama, what are you reading?” Braden asked from the doorway.

“An old journal I found in your grandmother’s secretary,” Lily answered.

He came on into the room and touched the book’s leather binding. “It looks really old. What’s in it?”

Holly air slapped him on the arm. “I told you about the journal days ago.”

“It’s a family journal,” Lily said. “The first entry was made in 1862 during the Civil War, and it seems to have been passed down from mother to daughter. So far what I’ve read has been about the lives of our ancestors. Holly and I have been reading it for her history project.”

“Hey, Mama.” Holly joined her brother right outside her mother’s door. “I’m going out to the goat pens with Braden and Mack to check on the goats. Can I please have a pair of rubber boots?” she asked. “I’ve been wearing the ones that belonged to Granny Vera, but they’re getting cracks in the soles.”

“I imagine we can get you a pair tomorrow,” Lily said. “Maybe I’ll go with y’all out to the barn and pens.”

“That’d be great.” Holly’s eyes lit up. “You haven’t seen Star in a couple of days, and she’s growing more and more all the time.”

Lily said a silent prayer as she followed her daughter downstairs. Please, God, don’t ever let her walk in Sophia’s shoes. Give her the courage to stand up for her rights, and don’t let what she thinks is love shade her judgment.

Lily was glad to see sunshine on Saturday morning. The week had gone by fast, like most of the time had since they’d been in Comfort. She put a pot roast in the slow cooker before she even made breakfast, and then she stirred up a rising of hot yeast rolls. By getting things organized and ready before time, she and the Coopers could spend more time visiting and less time in the kitchen. She remembered that Nora was friends with Polly as well as her mother, so she invited them over for midafternoon snacks. She’d just made a run up to her bedroom to freshen up a little when someone rapped on the front door. She finished brushing out her dark hair, checked her makeup one more time, and was hurrying downstairs when she heard Holly talking.