atlas, then draw a while, then look at the Blue Ridge map some more. At first it was like trying to fit together the first few pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle. Nothing seemed to makesense or go together. But the more I worked at it, it did. It did start to make sense. Tam was trying to find his way home. I knew it sure as anything.
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That night, we all sat around the dining room table looking at Daddy. Ever since heâd walked in the door, he looked like he was about to bust. He was lit up like a Christmas tree.
Mama blew out a long breath. âOkay, Ian. Enough suspense. Whatâs this big news?â
Daddy stood and pulled something from his back pocket. He gave me a wink.
My heart jumped up my throat. Tam! My maps were right!
He unfolded the paper and held it out for all to see.
Meemaw squinted at the tiny print. âWhat in the world is it, son?â
Mama leaned so far across the table to get a look at that paper, her hair dragged in her mashed potatoes.
Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes went wide as hub-caps. âGood lord, Ian. Is that what I think it is?â
âYes, maâam, my beautiful Holly Prescott Whistler. Itâs a recording contract! Nashville wants the Clear Creek Boys!â
Mama jumped up from her chair and ran over to Daddy. They grabbed each other and danced aroundlike a couple of crazy people.
Meemaw and I just sat there watching them, dumbfounded.
Daddy scooped Mama up in his arms and twirled her around and around. Mama laughed and laughed. I did too.
âWe are Nashville bound!â Daddy whooped.
âWhen?â Mama asked.
âThey want us there by January fifth,â Daddy said. âI figure weâll try and get there no later than the first. Thatâll give us time to get Abby settled into a new school andââ
âWaitâ¦what?â I gasped. âWhat do you mean, a new school?â
Daddy looked at me like I was an idiot. Mama studied her shoes.
âI think, Abby honey, your daddy means yâall are moving to Nashville,â Meemaw whispered.
I looked from Meemaw to Mama to Daddy, shaking my head. âNo, Daddy. I canât. I canât go.â
Daddy pulled on the end of his nose. âOf course youâll go, peanut. Weâre a family andâ¦â
âNo, Daddy!â I was shaking all over. âTamâs on his way home! I have to be here for him!â
âNow, Abby,â Daddy frowned. âItâs been almost three months. Heâs gone, honey. Itâs time to let go.â
I jumped up so quick, my chair fell over backward.âHeâs alive, Daddy! I can feel it! I been working real hard on my maps, andâ¦and Meemaw saw him!â
Mama shot Meemaw a look. Daddy looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in our dining room.
I looked at the three of them all looking at me, my mouth opening and closing like a landlocked fish.
Daddy took a step toward me, holding out his hand. âCome on, Abby,â he said.
I slapped my napkin into my dinner plate, scattering peas every which way. âI. Wonât. Go. To. Nashville!â Then I bolted for my room.
CHAPTER 18
Tam
T amâs feet twitched in his sleep, a desperate woof slipping from his throat. The coyote cracked one eye open, then slipped back to shallow sleep.
Tam rarely dreamed now about the girl or his home with her. Most times, his dreams were filled with chasing, or being chased. Bit by bit, Tam was forgetting his life before: before the car crash, the swirling creek, before the coyote, the snap of bone, the taste of fresh blood. Although Tam had traveled well over a hundred and thirty miles since heâd last been someoneâs dog, the real distance was inside him.
He still felt driven to go south. But like the coyote, he didnât question the why of it; he just went where instinctled him. If the coyote had decided she no longer wanted to go south, or that it was best to head east or to stay put for the