Each step, each swing of the hoe was torture, but by mid-morning, the activity had done me good. Some of the tightness left my tortured muscles, although none of the soreness had seen fit to depart.
We were near to halting for a quick repast when Ides’ sharp, blue eyes spotted a pigeon approaching. As soon as it entered the cote in the loft of the outhouse, he scooted off to check for a message. A moment later, he returned.
“It’s from Dad. He wrote you a note.”
I scowled as I read Gideon’s terse missive: Lucy Landreth killed herself. Sheriff’s gone crazy. Be on guard. On my way
I called everyone to the stone cabin and gave them the news. My first thought was to send Rachel Ann, Ides, and the baby out of harm’s way, but my sister put her foot down.
“I’m not going anywhere until my husband gets here,” she said.
“And you might need us,” Ides added.