As he nears the Arkansas River and Cherokee country, the fields give way to trees and there are more varieties of living things, it seems: scissortail birds snipping over the meadows catching bugs, and big-headed kingfishers sitting on high lines overlooking the river. He drives into the outskirts of Tahlequah, through the motel strip along the Muskogee Highway and then into the older, pretty part of town. The old brick courthouse and the seminary building and all the old oaks haven’t changed. The main road leads him out again, into the woods.

At a bend in the road outside Locust Grove, Cash is moved by the sight of a little field with a heartbreaking hedgerow of wild pink roses and one small, sweet hickory in the center, left standing because the Cherokee man or woman who plowed that field wouldn’t cut down a hickory. He keeps an eye out, afraid to miss one single sight as he makes his way.

Crowds of black-eyed susans stand up to be counted, and five beagles sit side by side in someone’s yard, reverent as a choir, blessing his overdue return.

Annawake is first aware of a rectangle of brightness framing the window shade, then the pile of quilts arguing on her bed: wild geese, double wedding ring, trip around the world, stitched by three different aunts who quarreled, when they were alive, about which pattern was best. And there is something under the quilts, a lump, stealing along like a mole beneath the garden. Annawake reaches behind her head, pulls herself to a half sit-up, and conks the lump with a pillow. It flattens and giggles. She pulls out a naked Annie.

“I found a rat in my bed. What am I going to do with this rat?” She covers Annie’s face with kisses. When she exhausts her affectionate assault, Annie lies on her back next to Annawake and sucks her thumb with a contented, arrogant air.

“You got kicked out of Millie’s bed, didn’t you.”

Annie nods.

“That’s because there’s another baby now. You’ve moved up in the world. Now you get to be a big sister. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Annie shakes her head.

“I don’t blame you. Who needs it?” Annawake lies on her back too. They both look for a while at the ceiling, which is decorated with a few unwelcome suggestions of mildew.

Before Annawake finished law school and moved back to Tahlequah, Millie doubled up the kids into the front room, mounted a convulsing stepladder and scrubbed this room to within an inch of its life. But there has been rain since then, and the roof is older than anyone living under it.

Dellon pokes his head in the door. “There she is. The escaped prisoner.” He comes in with Annie’s clothes, and Annie uses her sturdy legs to scoot herself under the quilts again.

“Hey, Dell,” Annawake says. She sits up, clasping her arms around her blanketed knees. “Watch out, the prisoner’s lawyer is present.”

Dellon sits on the foot of the bed holding Annie’s small red sneakers like baby birds in his large hands. Dellon’s long hair is loose, his T-shirt looks like what grasshoppers do to crops, and his beefy shoulders seem slumped this morning with the weight of fatherhood. He narrows his eyes at Annawake. “Hey, that’s my shirt. I’ve been looking for that one.”

Annawake looks down innocently at the maroon flannel she’s been sleeping in. “The color’s good on me, don’t you think?” She cocks her profile.

“Why don’t you get a boyfriend, so you can steal his clothes?”

“Good idea. I knew there was some reason women sought out the company of men.”

“Listen, I was supposed to have the kids out of here by ten o’clock. Millie has to take the baby over to Claremore for his shots or something.”

“Christ, what time is it? Are you telling me I slept past ten o’clock?”

“Yeah, I think they’re going to make it a national holiday.

National Annawake Slept Past Ten O’clock Day.”

“Look, I’ll stay here with the kids. It’s not even worth going into the office now.”

“You’re not going into the office? On a Saturday morning?

Definitely a national holiday.” He half stands and reaches behind the aged lace curtain to snap up the shade.

Annawake shades her eyes from the light. “Get out of here,” she tells him affectionately. “Annie and I need our beauty sleep.” She flips the pillow behind her head and lies back down. The lump of Annie wildly animates the double wedding rings in the region of Annawake’s knees.

“Okay,” Dellon says. “I’m taking Baby Dellon and Ray-mond over to my house. You’ve got this one.” He stands up and gently swats Annie through the quilts with her red shoes.