She went to the railing and laid her hands on the smooth cedar, shutting her eyes as the warm sun spread over her face.

Richard came out after her and leaned his back against the white-painted door frame.

Down on the gravel drive, his old faded blue Ford pickup sat in the sunshine, its dented passenger door shining bright under the morning sky.

That dented truck had gotten them out of Belle Meade, carried them down the dark highway, and brought them all the way to safety without one hiccup.

Emily opened her eyes and gazed down at the dented blue fender.