The letter arrived 6 months after Pa died. Mama couldn’t read a word so the preacher’s daughter, Miss Becker, read it to us. We didn’t know where Santa Rosa Island was but Mama liked to think that it was someplace special. I never did tell Mama that I knew when he fell, but I think she saw it in my eyes. She had long since realized I had the gift. I would see him sometimes before the dawn, standing by the corner of the barn. He was waiting for her, I didn’t tell her that either. The leaves wouldn’t be the only thing falling from the tall walnut tree behind the barn but at least he would be there to catch her.