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He made some other calls, including one to Odell Hatcher, then packed up the perishables from the refrigerator and headed back to Heartache Mountain. It was mid-afternoon when he parked next to the garage. The cottage windows were open and the front door unlocked, but Rachel and the boy weren't inside.
He carried the groceries into the kitchen and unloaded them in the refrigerator. When he turned around, he saw the boy standing just inside the back door. He'd entered so quietly that Gabe hadn't heard him.
Gabe remembered the way Jamie had flown into their big old rambling North Georgia farmhouse, door slamming, sneakers banging, usually yelling at the top of his small lungs that he'd found a special earthworm or needed a broken toy repaired.
"Is your mother outside?"
The boy looked down at the floor.
"Please answer me, Edward," Gabe said quietly.
"Yes," the boy murmured.
"Yes, what?"
The boy's shoulders stiffened. He didn't lift his head.
The child definitely needed some toughening up, for his own sake. Gabe forced himself to speak quietly, patiently. "Look at me."
Slowly, Edward lifted his head.
"When you talk to me, Edward, I want you to say, 'Yes, sir' or 'No, sir' 'Yes, ma'am' and 'No, ma'am' when you talk to your mother or Kristy or any lady. You're living in North Carolina now, and that's the way polite children speak around here. Do you understand?"
"Uh-huh."
"Edward…" Gabe's tone carried a soft warning note.
"My name's not Edward."
"That's what your mother calls you."
"She's allowed," he said sullenly. "Not you."
"What am I supposed to call you?"
The child hesitated and then muttered, "Chip."
"Chip?".
"Don't like Edward. Want everybody to call me Chip."
Gabe considered trying to explain to him that Chip Stone might not be the best choice of names, then abandoned the idea. He'd always been good with children, but not this one. This one was too strange.
"Edward, did you find the ball of string?"
The back door opened and Rachel came in. Her dirty hands and smudged nose indicated that she'd been working in the garden. Her gaze immediately flew to her son, as if she were afraid Gabe might have used thumbscrews on him when she wasn't looking. Her attitude made him feel guilty, and he didn't like that.
"Edward?"
The boy went over to the old cupboard, tugged open the left drawer with both hands, and pulled out the twine ball that had been there, in one form or another, for as long as Gabe could remember.
"Put it with the bucket I was using, would you?"
He nodded, then gave Gabe a wary glance. "Yes, ma'am."
Rachel regarded him quizzically. Edward let himself out the back door.
"Why'd you name him Edward?" Gabe asked, before she could start in on him about what had happened that morning with the garter snake.
