had the bad cold in the nose and couldn't smell it. He was understandably upset by the
experience."
"Dum, how 'bout that," said Diamond. "Wonder how the horse done got that in there?
Pro'bly just backed itself up to the window and let fly." That said, Diamond went right on
eating, though none of the others did.
"I recall I dropped you off to do some personal business right around there on our drive
back from Dickens."
"You tell the sheriff that?" Diamond asked quickly.
"No, my memory curiously abandoned me about the time he asked." Diamond looked
relieved as Cotton continued. "But I spent a sorry hour over at the courthouse with the
superintendent and a coal company lawyer who were all-fire sure that you had done it.
Now upon my careful cross-examination I was able to demonstrate that there were no
eyewitnesses and no other evidence tying you to the scene of this ... little situation. And,
fortunately, one can't take fingerprints from horse manure. Judge Atkins held with my
side of things, and so there we are. But those coal folk have long memories, son, you
know that."
"Not so long as mine," countered Diamond.
"Why would he do something like that?" said Lou.
Louisa looked at Cotton and he looked at her, and then Cotton said, "Diamond, my heart's
with you on this, son, it really is. You know that. But the law's not. And next time, it
might not be so easy to get out of it. And folk might start taking matters into their own
hands. So my advice to you is to get on with things. I'm saying it for your own good,
Diamond, you know that I am."
With that Cotton rose and put his hat back on. He refused all further questions from Lou
and declined an invitation to stay. He paused and looked at Diamond, who was
considering the rest of his meal without enthusiasm.
Cotton said, "Diamond, after those coal folk left the courtroom, me and Judge Atkins had
us a long laugh. I'd say that was a right good one to end your career on, son. Okay?"
Diamond finally smiled at the man and said, "Okay."
CHAPTER TWENTY
LOU ROSE EARLY ONE MORNING, EVEN BEFORE LOUISA and Eugene, she beheved, for
she heard no stirring below. She had grown used to dressing in the dark now and her
fingers moved swiftly, arranging her clothes and lacing her boots. She stepped to the
window and looked out. It was so dark she had a vague feeling of being deep underwater.
She flinched, for Lou thought she had seen something slip out from the barn. And then,
like a frame of spent lightning, it was gone. She opened the window for a better look, but
whatever it was wasn't there anymore. It must have been her imagination.
She went down the stairs as quietly as she could, started toward Oz's room to wake him,
but stopped at the door of her mother's instead. It was partially open, and Lou just stood
there for a moment, as though something blocked her passage. She leaned against the
wall, squirmed a bit, slid her hands along the door frame, pushed herself away, and then
leaned back. Finally, Lou edged her head into the bedroom.
Lou was surprised to see two figures on the bed. Oz was lying next to their mother. He
was dressed in his long Johns, a bit of his thin calves visible where the bottoms had
inched up, his feet in thick wool socks he had brought with him to the mountain. His tiny
rear end was stuck up in the air, his face turned to the side so Lou could see it. A tender
smile was on his lips, and he was clenching his new bear.
Lou crept forward and laid a hand on his back. He never stirred, and Lou let her hand
slide down and gently touch her mother's arm. When she exercised her mother's limbs, a
part of Lou would always be feeling for her mother to be pushing back just a little. But it
was always just dead weight. And Amanda had been so strong during the accident,
keeping her and Oz from being hurt. Maybe in saving her children, Lou thought, she had
used up all she had. Lou left the two and went to the kitchen.
She loaded the coal in the front-room fireplace, got the flame going, then sat in front of
the fire for a time, letting the heat melt the chill from her bones. At dawn she opened the
door and felt the cool air on her face. There were corpulent gray clouds loitering about
from a passed storm, their underbellies outlined in flaming reddish-pink. Right below this
was the broad sweep of mountainous green forest that stepped right to the sky. It was one
of the most glorious breakups of night she could ever recall. Lou certainly had never seen
dawns like this in the city.
Though it had not been that long ago, it seemed like many years since Lou had walked
the concrete pavement of New York City, ridden the subway, raced for a cab with her
father and mother, pushed through the crowds of shoppers at Macy's the day after