Free Spirit of the Valley by Jane Shoup

the ladies to swim. No men allowed, although you can’t really stop a boy determined to peek no matter how far around he has to go to do it. Jenny never would go in.”
    Lizzie looked at her, curious about what she was driving at.
    â€œLearning about Jenny hurt my heart and gave me the shivers. I thought, that could have been Cessie all those years ago. It could have been, too. She was in enough pain. She could have breathed in a lungful of water and there would have been nothing any of us could do.” She paused. “If anyone ever thought it was an easy decision to haul my baby sister out to the middle of the pond and leave her, it wasn’t.”
    Lizzie wished she knew what to say. “You did it to save her,” she said softly.
    April May nodded. “But what if she hadn’t chosen life? I don’t know how I would have bared it. I don’t know how any of us would. Nothing would have ever been the same. Not for any of us. That’s for shore.”
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    â€œI’m going to take a swim tonight,” Cessie said as she and Lizzie cleaned the kitchen after supper.
    â€œDo you mind if I go along?” Lizzie asked.
    â€œMind? I’d love it. There’s just nothing like a moonlight swim.”
    The sound of laughter came from the other room. The low-pitched laughter of April May in harmony with the higher-pitched laughter of the children. It was such a good sound.
    Cessie only had a bowl left to wash, and Lizzie had kept up with the drying, so it was time to broach the subject. “I have something strange to tell you.”
    Cessie looked at her. “What?”
    Lizzie concentrated on the platter she was drying. “I had older parents. I was an only child, and they weren’t the most loving people.”
    â€œReally?” Cessie said thoughtfully. “I’m surprised, as good a mother as you are.”
    Lizzie shrugged. “I did everything the opposite of them. And I love being a mother. I think that’s the key to being a good parent.”
    Cessie nodded.
    â€œI think, had my mother married someone else, she might have been different. More loving. But my father associated gentle and nurturing with spoiling a child, and my mother obeyed his every command and thought.” She walked over and put the platter away. “I must have been about five or six when the dreams began.”
    â€œThe dreams?”
    â€œA recurring dream I would have. It lasted only seconds. It was my mother and father—not the ones I grew up with, but my real mother and father. My dream mother and father.” Lizzie shrugged and grinned. “I really came to believe that the people who ruled my household had adopted me from these people. I reasoned my real parents must have died, maybe in an accident. A train derailment or a ship sinking. You see, the dreams were so real, I thought they must be a memory from early childhood. I can still see their faces in my mind.”
    â€œWhat did they look like?”
    â€œThey both had dark hair. They were very attractive. In fact, she was beautiful. The dream only lasted a few seconds, just long enough for them to turn back to look at me and extend their hands to me, but I saw them clearly.”
    Cessie reached for the towel and dried her hands but didn’t look away from Lizzie.
    â€œIn the dream, we’re outside, walking, but I’ve lagged behind. They turn toward each other and look back at me, urging me to catch up. They’re smiling and so happy. Her hair is just to her shoulders and she wears it loose. It is dark and wavy and the wind blows some into her face. And that was it. That’s all there was to it, but it was enough to convince me they were my real parents.”
    Cessie cocked her head thoughtfully, knowing more was coming.
    â€œI don’t know how to say this without you thinking—”
    â€œWhat?” Cessie asked tenderly. “I won’t think anything. Just