Molly looked across the ripening wheat field. The bristled heads brushed against her hands as she walked. Here was solitude. Here was space. Here were no brothers to torment her; no adults to restrain her. This was her place. No matter that it would be mown down soon. There were other fields; other silent places.
She looked back toward the big white farmhouse. There were secrets behind those lace curtains. She did not like secrets. She did not like darkness. She especially did not like the night. She turned her face to the sun and let it wash her with the warmth of summer.
A cold nose in her hand made her jump, then laugh as the silky collie joined her, bringing her thoughts back from the dark places. She knelt and wrapped her arms around him as he wriggled and tried to cover her face with kisses. “It’s OK, Sam.” Molly buried her face in his silky coat. “We know, you and me. And that’s enough!”