Milo narrowed his eyes, for the first time looking at her as something other than a quick, and probably very expensive, lay. She had a passing resemblance to the boy. Though he had darker features. Even in the dim light of the bar Milo could see that Ginny's worried eyes were a vibrant, pale blue and idly wondered if James were the same. After a moment, he shrugged one shoulder."So, he's your brother. What do I care?"

Ginny ground her teeth together. She leaned forward and planted her palms on the sticky tabletop. This man was nothing but a rotten drunk."You adopted someone who already had family who wanted and loved him."

Bored, Milo rolled his eyes.

"It was a terrible mistake. And I'm sorry that it happened, I can tell how attached to him you are." Try as she might, she couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice."But he's my family and I want him back."

Milo flicked his spent cigarette to the floor, wishing he had another."Fine."

Ginny's mouth abruptly closed."D-did you just say 'fine'?"

"Take him. The little bastard is nothing but a pain in my ache's all yours."

Ginny's eyes flashed dangerously and her voice turned to ice."He's not a bastard."

"Heathen you don't know the little shit like I do."

"Where is he?" she hissed, her temper flaring, and her livid glare swallowing Milo whole. She'd had enough of this man. All she wanted to do was collect her brother.

"How should I know?" Milo stuck his nose in his drink, which he found infinitely more interesting than this annoying stranger. Sure, she was young and pretty enough, but he'd never cared for uppity women.

Ginny could feel her blood pressure rising. Milo ignoring her and she fought to keep her voice even, realizing that her anger was getting her nowhere."Where's James 'school then? I'll get him myself. You can stay right here." And drink your miserable life away.

Milo laughed and shook his head, causing several long strands of oily hair to stick to his face and stay there."What the hell does that boy need more schooling' for? I'll tell you what I told him. Once you can read, any more learning' is a waste of time. My time."

Ginny pushed herself away from the table, her back going ramrod straight. A heady rush of adrenaline sang through her blood, and she was on the verge of doing something very stupid. Easy. If you kill him you'll just end up in jail. "Mr. Porter-"

"Enough talk."Unsteadily, he rose to his feet. He leaned heavily to one side."Pay me eight dollars and the boy is yours. I never signed those damn papers the orphanage people gave me anyway." He sniggered a little, exceedingly proud of himself for finding a suitable use for them."A better ass wipe a man could not ask for."

Ginny's lips twisted in revulsion."Pay?" She rethought her decision not to do something stupid."My brother is a human being, not a cow," she sputtered. This man was her worst nightmare come true. Oh, James. "He can't be bought or sold!"

"Oh, really?" Milo challenged, his voice dripping with condescension."Tell that to the orphanage folks. The way that boy was acting, I figured they'd pay me to take his worthless hide off their hands." He paused to let out a loud belch, smiling when a man across the bar raised his glass to him in silent salute."I paid four... no, five dollars for that worthless shit." He spread his hands in entreaty."Don't I deserve to make a profit for my troubles?"

Ginny gave him an incredulous look, any pretense of civility long gone."What are you talking about? You shouldn't have been able to get him in the first place. I'm not going to pay you!" But even as she said the words she was calculating what little cash she had left. It wasn't nearly enough.

"Then we got nothing else to talk about."Milo took several ragged steps towards the bar, and for the first time Ginny noticed that beneath his trousers was a wooden leg. Not an uncommon feature for men his age, who had cruelly had bits of themselves blown away in the War Between the States. Ginny blocked his path with her body.

He towered over her, and fearlessly she looked up into glazed eyes. "Yes, we do."

In a flash of motion, Milo grabbed Ginny and threw her down on the nearest table, face up. Bony fingers wrapped around her wrists, pressing them firmly into the tabletop just above her head.

She cried out in surprise.

He shoved his face so close to hers that tiny bits of saliva sprayed her as he hissed, "Do not sass me, you short-haired Yankee bitch."In a much calmer voice he added, "I don't like it."

Wisely, Ginny clamped her mouth shut. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was surprised he couldn't hear it, and she nodded meekly, hoping that would ease his violent temper. His breath smelled like a brewery and in that instant she realized she'd been a fool to even try to reason with a drunk.

Milo smiled cruelly."That's more like it. I can tell you're kin to that bastard. He used to sass me too."His smile grew as he saw his chilling words register on Ginny's face.

Her blood ran cold and she swallowed convulsively, her mind instantly giving her visions of James being hurt."Wh-what did you do to him?"

He chuckled and moved his lips closer to hers."Wanna find out yourself?"

Ginny couldn't find her voice. She closed her eyes and shook her head as her mind desperately tried to come up with a way to escape. He was far stronger than she was and, rather than fight him, she let her body go limp under his.

"Aww." Milo seemed genuinely disappointed."Too bad." Abruptly, he released his captive and called out to the bartender, "Put the drinks on my tab."

"Milo," the man behind the bar growled, suddenly paying attention now that the subject was his money, "you still owe me from last week."

Milo grumbled to himself as he hobbled towards the door."Got me a visitor tonight," he slurred, fumbling for the handle. "You'll get your damn money."

The door closed behind him and Ginny let out a shaky breath. Could that have gone worse? After a long second, she rolled off the table and onto shaky legs. Her hands were trembling, and she wrapped her arms around herself in mute comfort as she dropped down into Milo's chair."No, no, no. This can't be happening. James, what has he done to you?"

A young man in worn overalls hesitantly walked over to Ginny's table and gently cleared his throat. "Are you all right, Miss?"

Ginny looked up into shame-filled eyes, rubbing wrists she was sure would be badly bruised."No," she said honestly."I don't think I am."

"I'm sorry, I didn't...." He winced, his excuse for doing nothing seemed much more cowardly now that he wasn't in actual danger. He rocked back on his heels."Milo's got a really bad temper. I didn't want-"

"It's okay," Ginny assured him quietly. Though in truth, it stung more than a little. She wondered briefly if the patrons in Smokey's would have calmly continued to sip their drinks and watch, if Milo had started beating her-she shivered-or worse.

Having said his piece, the young man turned to walk away.

Ginny's hand shot out, finding a fistful of his sleeve. She gently tugged him to a halt."Wait," she said eagerly."Do you know Milo?"

"I reckon." "Can you tell me where he lives and works? Things like that?"

The young man's brows drew together as he considered her request. It wouldn't be smart. But... "Well, I don't know."

"Please," she begged, not above bestowing him with her most innocent, sweet smile. His eyes softened and she could see that he was wavering."I could buy you a drink?" Her smile turned inward when she saw him lick his lips at her enticing offer.

His gaze flicked to the bar, and he chewed his bottom lip."Maybe we could talk for just a minute." "Exactly. It'll only take a minute. I promise."Ginny motioned for him to sit in the empty chair next to hers. She couldn't pay for her brother, and she didn't want to risk bringing in the police or a state agency in case Milo was lying about the paperwork. Though she had no doubt they'd find Milo unfit as a parent, there was still the chance that they'd decide the same thing about her and put her brother back up for adoption.

She waved to the bartender, wishing with all her heart that Lindsay was here and that they could work this out together. Things never seemed as desperate or dark when they were together. It had been less than a day and half and she already missed her companion badly. Tonight she needed Lindsay's strength and support more than ever, because she wouldn't allow James to spend one more miserable day with Milo Porter.

Tonight she was stealing back her brother, and somehow she just knew all hell was about to break loose.

It was well past dark by the time Ginny started on her way to Milo's dilapidated house. She'd learned more than she'd expected about the man who had her brother, and had listened interestedly when she was told that, over the years, Milo had tried to quit drinking several times, only to be lured back to the bottle each time. As it had many soldiers, the war changed Milo. And the townsfolk in Troy gave him a wide berth. Despite what he became later in life, he'd started out as an earnest young man, who had fought valiantly for his home and way of life. He had simply lost more than he could bear and for some reason, the only place he believed he could reclaim a tiny sliver of it was at the bottom of a bottle.

Edith and Trudy had prepared Ginny and Lewis a hearty dinner, which Lewis inhaled and Ginny picked at with her fork. Her stomach was in knots and eating at this point was not an option. After a long argument with Lewis, Edith, and Trudy that had reduced the boy to tears, she headed out to reclaim James.

A thick fog clung to the ground and enveloped the city in a cloying mist. The streets took on an eerie, haunted quality that made Ginny shiver. She drew in a deep breath of air that smelled of burning wood and moist soil as she slowly moved down the deserted streets of Troy in a buggy she'd borrowed from Edith.

Troy was a mostly sleepy town and its residents had long ago extinguished their lanterns and banked stoves, settling themselves down for the chilly night.

The rhythmic clippity-clop of the mare's hooves mixed with the sounds of buzzing insects and the faint howling of the wind as Ginny guided the buggy onto a smooth, but lonely, side road. The burning lantern that hung securely from a pole mounted to the buggy's front barely cut into the fog. She found herself concentrating as she peered into the haze, trying to make out the road in front of her and the houses alongside that were set back from the traffic.

Ginny's hands unconsciously tightened on the reins. She suddenly felt very alone, her craving for her partner so overwhelming that she nearly stopped the buggy and turned back for Talking Rock. But not without my family.

To her right, a heavy thicket disappeared and was replaced by a tall black, wrought iron fence. Through the fence, she could see the damp tops of granite tombstones peeking out of the fog as the haze shifted and rolled with the breeze. Feeling a chill wash over her, she pulled together the edges of her coat and buried her nose in the scratchy cloth, her own breath sending a swirl of fog into the air. She had changed back into her trousers and shirt, but despite their warmth, goosebumps chased up and down her legs.

"Whoa," she whispered, tugging back on the reins. The dappled gray mare snorted once, puffs of steam escaping her large, black nostrils. She swung her head twice, agitated by the command to stop. Ginny pulled back again, this time sharply, and the mare dutifully came to a halt. Ginny set the hand brake and unhooked the lantern. She gently stroked the thick muscles along the horse's sleek black neck as she passed."I'll be back soon."I hope. She gave her a gentle pat. "Be ready to run."

The gates of the cemetery creaked loudly when Ginny pushed against them with one hand. The cold, wet metal stung her palm and she wiped it on her coat, before setting the lantern down and using her body weight to force her way in. Reclaiming the lantern, she began carefully traversing the path she assumed would lead to the gravedigger's shack.

Milo's house.

The young man in the bar had explained in great detail that most folks believed the old cemetery was haunted and, though the city had hired several men as gravediggers over the years, none of them had lasted as long as Milo, whose demons weren't, apparently, of the ghostly variety. He was well paid for his trouble, receiving $1.50 for every grave he dug and free boarding in the small, shabby house that doubled as a supply shed for the cemetery and nearby church.

The flu had hit Troy in the winter of 1888-1889, and it was treating the town to a morbid curtain-call this year. Milo had a steady stream of business but was too cheap to hire someone to help him when he got busy. Instead, he'd taken on James.

"Yeow!"Ginny jumped out of her skin as a rabbit darted across the path and right over her feet. "God."She covered her face with her hand, her heart pounding so wildly little spots danced in front of her eyes for a few seconds. Stop it, stupid, she told herself. It was only a rabbit. A shuddering breath. Only a rabbit. Focus.

She didn't have much of a plan, Ginny admitted to herself as she walked silently down the uneven dirt path. Wait until Milo fell asleep; sneak into the house; snatch up James; and run like the Devil. It was simple, but she liked that. Her smile turned a little predatory.

Tombstones lined the path that began gradually sloping upward, and with a shift of the wind the fog separated and she could see the house nestled between two creaking birch trees. It was a little larger than she expected and the wind carried the strong smell of rotten wood, smoke, and rancid hops. He's trying to make his own beer. And doing a lousy job.

The house was dark but she could see the dark outline of smoke as it drifted up from the chimney. Ginny felt a little thrill stir inside her. She wouldn't have to wait. It was time.

She carefully used her sleeve to wipe grime from one of the front windows, but it was no use. The glass was still so filthy that moonlight couldn't penetrate it and she couldn't catch even a glimpse of the interior. Not wanting to face any surprises when she entered the house-like a vicious dog or Milo and a twelve-gauge-she slowly circled around behind the house to try again.

Halfway there, her head snapped sideways at the faint sound of disembodied voices coming from the fog. She cocked her head as she listened, hearing Milo's raspy voice and another person's, a child's. James? She mouthed silently. Please let it be him.

Ginny moved towards the voices, taking care to keep from tripping over the gravestones and roots that protruded unevenly from the ground. She caught sight of a dimly glowing lantern in the distance, which disappeared and reappeared as the wind swirled the fog.

Ginny opened the lantern door of her own lantern and blew out its flickering flame. She stopped dead in her tracks, her mind racing and eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to having only the moonlight for a guide. She crept forward, taking care to keep herself low to the ground and out of sight. She could see Milo plainly, his face illuminated by the small lantern sitting next to him. But Ginny still couldn't see who exactly he was talking to.

"Keep diggin'." Milo paused to take a drink."Or we'll be all night."

Another shovelful of dirt was tossed out of the hole. "I'm tryin'."

Ginny's throat closed as the voice wrapped its way around her heart. James. Tears rushed welled so quickly, she couldn't stop them. At last.

James' head suddenly emerged from the partially completed grave.

Ginny ducked behind a tree, close enough to see their faces and smell the rich soil being tossed by the shovel. James' hair was longer than she'd ever seen it and it hung in his eyes. He looked smaller than she remembered.

Milo's words were slurred."Try harder."He sat at one end of the grave, a half empty bottle dangling loosely from one hand, his feet hanging into the pit as James continued to dig.

Ginny felt around the ground at her feet. The grass was damp but still brittle, and after a moment of silent fumbling she came up with a rock the size of a large apple. She set the lantern down and held her breath, waiting for the right time. She jumped when she heard a loud snap.

"Aww, shit, boy!"

James scrambled out of the hole, tossing the shovel on to the ground just outside it. "I'm sorry. Really. I'm sorry," he said shakily, visible flinching when Milo rose unsteadily to his feet.

"You snapped the shovel!"

James took another step backwards and raised his arms to protect himself.

Ginny felt a wild surge of anger over the defensive gesture, knowing in her heart he'd been beaten by this man. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the stone in her hand so tightly it was painful, and she imagined silencing his cruel voice by crashing the rock into Milo's head. The feeling scared her, but instead of pushing it away, she embraced it. She needed it now.

James took a tentative step towards Milo, who was turning the shovel over in his hands, examining it with jerky, angry motions."It was an accident, I swear. M-maybe I can f-fix it." His terrified stutter tore a hole in Ginny's heart and tears blurred her vision.

Milo grabbed the shovel out of James' hand and lifted it as though he was going to hit the boy with it.

Ginny's eyes widened, and she drew in a deep breath to spring from her hiding place. Before she could take a step, however, Milo lowered the shovel.

He took a long pull from the bottle still in one hand, emptying it and pointing it at James."You stay here. I'll get another shovel." He looked down at the lantern but decided against it. He knew every inch of the graveyard, light or no."If I send you it'll take too damn long," he murmured, hobbling back towards the house.

The redhead had only a second to decide what to do. She bit her lower lip so hard she tasted blood as her heart demanded that Milo be made to pay for ever touching James. But to her dismay, her head commanded she wait. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, and a light sweat broke out on her face and neck as she warred with herself. But in the end, she allowed the more reasonable part of her nature to triumph-and for Milo to pass.

The fog closed in around him in just a few seconds, but she waited until she could no longer hear his ranting curses and heavy footsteps before leaving her hiding place.

She licked her lips nervously."James?" she said quietly, hoping her voice sounded steadier to him than it did to her own ears.

The boy whirled around, and his eyes shaped twin moons as he gaped at his sister.

Ginny could see that he was terrified, and she stopped walking towards him, afraid he'd bolt if she took another step."James, honey," she soothed, "it's me. You don't have to be afraid. I've been looking everywhere for you."

James shook his head wildly, scattering his dirty bangs into his eyes."No! You're dead!"

"Shhh!"Ginny pressed her finger to her lips."He'll hear you."She extended her hand to him."I'm not dead. I've come to take you away from here. C'mon," she prodded gently. " I'll explain it all later."Quickly, she checked over her shoulder and swallowed nervously. The house wasn't far. They didn't have much time."We need to leave before he gets back."

"You're a g- gho-ghost."

She turned back to James."No, I'm your sister. And I'm very real. Plea-"

He began to scramble away, falling almost instantly and screaming in terror."Stay away from me!"

Christ. Ginny dropped the rock and surged forward, grabbing his dirty coat with both hands before he disappeared into the fog."It's me, James. I'm not a ghost. I won't hurt you!"

"It can't be you!"

Ginny was at a loss."It is me."

He began to fight, his thin arms and legs flailing in all directions. He picked up the broken shovel and used it as a weapon, slamming the metal head against Ginny's thigh.

Ginny cried out in pain as the powerful blow dropped her to her knees and sent James crashing to the ground with her. "Stay away from me!" he howled, still trying to break free from her grasp. He knocked the lantern into the grave, snuffing out its flame and sending them deeper into horrifying darkness. "You can't take me into the grave. I won't let you!"

Ginny sucked in a quick breath, shocked at the strength of his unexpected, stinging blow, but somehow she maintained her grip on his shaking body. "James, stop!" she barked authoritatively, causing him to freeze in mid-strike.

The graveyard went silent and for a second the world stood still.

They were both panting, hot breath rising from their open mouths.

James began to whimper, sure he was going to be dragged down into a grave by a ghost. Just like Milo had said.

Ginny could see his pulse pounding against his pale throat, and she hesitantly let go of his coat with one of her hands and gently, but firmly, cupped his chin and lifted, forcing his head upward so that he would have to look at her face, her eyes. What she saw through the gloomy moonlight made her as physically ill as furious."Oh, sweetheart." Her gaze softened and a faint, worried smile flickered across her face."I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay now, I promise."