Page 85 of The River We Remember

“Is he okay?”

“He died. This”—she fingered the gold ring on the chain around her neck—“was his. And he gave me all the charms on my bracelet, one on every birthday. Mom didn’t want me to wear them on the river today, but I told her I wear them everywhere. We kind of argued about that. She didn’t love him like I did. That’s why they got divorced.”

“I’m sorry.” Scott looked at her and saw that her violet eyes were wet, and his imperfect heart ached for her. “You can touch my heart if you want.”

He lifted his T-shirt, exposing his chest. She reached out across the water and her fingers found his heart. Although it was a touch as light as a butterfly, Scott felt branded, a searing of his flesh, a sweet pain, and he closed his eyes to savor it.

“You’re strong,” she said, and her hand was gone.

He opened his eyes and found her gazing at him seriously.

“Really,” she said. “You’re very strong. I didn’t sense anything but strength.”

Which was the loveliest thing Scott Madison thought he’d ever heard. He was so in love he could barely stand it.

The river was higher and faster than usual. Here and there, huge tree limbs from the spring flooding were still embedded in sandbars that lurked below the river’s surface. The branches reached out of the water like the talons of some great river creature, and Holly let Scott help her navigate safely around them. Turtles sunned themselves on rocks along the banks, and coming around the bends, the kids startled herons that took flight, much to the delight of the city girls. Del and Nicole drifted farther and farther ahead, and that was fine with Scott, because he wanted Holly to himself. She told him about her father who’d died and Scott told her about his father, whom he’d never really known but had imagined in heroic ways.

“Del’s father died, too,” Holly said. “And then his mother married that Tyler Creasy.”

“You don’t like Mr. Creasy?”

Holly scowled at him. “Do you?”

Scott had been well schooled in never speaking ill of people, but he said, “Not especially.”

“Have you ever been in that trailer where they live?” she asked.

Scott had not, but he hadn’t given the trailer much thought until now. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, Scottie”—she’d begun using that variation of his name, which had always seemed childish to him, but from her lips sounded endearing—“it’s a tragedy. I don’t know how Del and my aunt can even live there.”

“Messy or what?”

“It smells like a barroom.”

He wondered, briefly how she’d have any idea what a barroom smelled like, because he didn’t.

“Mom says Aunt Ramona always had a taste for liquor, but when she married Mr. Creasy, it got way worse. That’s one of the reasons we came to visit.” She was quiet, staring at the two tubes far ahead on the river. “I’ll tell you something if you promise not to tell Del.”

“Okay.”

“Mom wants Aunt Ramona to leave him.”

“Leave Creasy?”

“Mom says she and Del can stay with us for a while, until Aunt Ramona figures what next. My stepdad wouldn’t be too thrilled, I can tell you that.”

Scott was a kid divided. He thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea at all for Del and his mom to get away from Tyler Creasy and the whole Creasy clan. But then Wolfman would be gone, and when Scott realized this, it was as if he had another hole in his heart.

Something flashed in the water not far from them, leaving rings that vanished quickly in the current.

“What was that?” Holly asked, clearly startled, and maybe a little afraid.

“A catfish, probably. The river’s full of them.”

He considered telling her about Mr. Quinn but decided it might frighten her too much. The day was hot and the sun was high, and they drifted in and out of shadows under the broad overhang of tree branches.

“Dreamy,” Holly said.