"Hot?"  Reed asked.  He held out a handkerchief and she took it, smiling her thanks.

As she handed it back she noticed that Reed had managed to remain seemingly untouched by the heat of the day or the moisture in the air.  As a child he had been in a constant state of dishevelment.  Something about him was always dirty or damp, or both.  His hair had rarely lain neatly on his head, but always seemed to point in every possible direction.  Now it was impeccable despite the heat and the exertion of riding, and his clothing, although informal and well broken-in, seemed to convey a new sense of decorum.  The differences were both a bit unsettling and very intriguing. 

He became aware of her studious gaze, and turned a questioning eye her way.  Refusing to be made self-conscious by her curiosity, she smiled reassuringly.

"What?" he grinned.  Now he was the one feeling self-conscious.

"I was just noticing that you look very cool and well-pressed, in spite of the heat."

"Quite a change from when we were kids, huh?"

"You said it, I didn't."

He smiled.  "I guess I left behind all my messy habits when I went to college."

"I see.  You had to become a well turned-out young man to fit in with all those yuppie kids?"

"Something like that."

He seemed about to say something more when the path broke through the trees and they came to the crest of a low hill.  "Oh, Reed," Kate breathed.  "Look at that."

Giant, sparkling white symmetrical hills were lined up before them.  Beneath were the salt pans – as pink as the flamingos which dotted their surface.  Beyond that the ocean extended out to the horizon, as smooth and blue as a sheet of satin.  "It's almost surreal," Kate said.  "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

"Only once or twice."  She didn't see him looking at her, watching the changing landscape of her face as raptly as she watched the panorama that was laid out in front of them.  There was no scenery on this island that was more beautiful to him than her features.

"Okay, gang, let's take a break," Stacy called over her shoulder.  "I think this is a good place for lunch."

The three boys who had helped the group mount their horses now set to work unpacking lunch.  Blankets were spread over the sand, and baskets appeared full of sandwiches, fruit, and bottles of water.  Brightly colored umbrellas provided shade as the tour group sat to eat their lunch.

Kate unwrapped a sandwich.  "What was it you were going to say?"

Reed laughed quietly.  "I'm not really sure."  He paused, then spoke quickly, before he had a chance to chicken out.  "When I got to college, I learned a few quick, hard lessons about the way the world works.  I thought I had it tough in Cherubim being the poorest kid in town – that I'd never be able to rise above that label because everyone in town knew all about my family and me.  But when I got out of there and got to college, I had to fight like hell just to be considered mediocre."

"You were on scholarship?"

"Of course.  It's not like my grandmother had a stash of money hidden under the floorboards.  Believe me, I looked.  After she died, I found out that she hadn't paid taxes on that place for years.  I was seventeen, and of course being her sole heir I was inheritor of all her possessions – such as they were – and her debts.  I also still had a few months of school left to go, and I had to go to summer school to earn enough credits to help me graduate.  I don't know if you remember, but I was always behind in school."

Kate nodded slowly.  His grandmother's many illnesses and infirmities had made it necessary for him to drop out every now and then to take care of her, or to earn a little extra money.

Reed continued.  "Judge Stein – you remember him?"

"Yes, actually.  He used to come to my house for dinner."

"Well, he would come to my house too, but for different reasons.  Any little accusation of petty theft, vandalism, whatever, would bring him around.  I used to tell my grandmother that he was sweet on her, and that's why he was always using any little excuse to come to our house.  She never believed it, of course, but I think the idea tickled her, even though she would swat me over the head for making up stories.  You know, she never asked me if I was guilty of anything that I was accused of.  She would just throw back her head – she was a diminutive person, but full of personality."

"I remember.  She was the only person I ever knew who could stare you down by looking up at you."

Reed chuckled.  "That was her, all right.  She would stare down that judge and take him head on, if she couldn't intimidate him out of accusing me, she would remind him about my mother."

Kate could picture it.  She remembered well the old woman's husky voice with its Virginia drawl.  "I'm not saying my boy is guilty of anything, Judge, but if he is guilty of something it's losing his father before he was born, or of having his mother run out on him when he was just a babe in arms, or of being raised by a no-account, cussing old woman like myself.  If he lifted a pack of gum from the gas station, it was only because I can't afford to buy it for him properly.  And if he did throw that rock through the drugstore window, it was only because the pharmacist refused to give me my medication on credit, when she knows damn right well that I don't get my government check until the beginning of the month.  So if you are so certain that it was my boy who did those things, then slap him in irons and take him away, but take me right along with him, because anything he done, he done for me."

Kate had heard the stories related in church, or at the table during Sunday dinner. 

Reed went on.  "I never thought Judge Stein cared much for me.  I was sure he'd use my grandmother's debts to make sure that I never left Cherubim, that I stayed there my whole life working to pay them off.  But I was surprised to find out I was wrong.  He helped me to arrange the sale of my grandmother's place to cover her debts, and made sure I had a little left over to put in the bank for when I left for college.  He even let me stay at his place for six months until I was done with high school and ready to go to NYU.  Of course, I worked for my room and board.  Even if he had offered me charity, I wouldn't have taken it."

Reed smiled.  "He also got me reading about Ben Franklin.  The Judge used to quote Franklin all the time, especially that line, Having been poor is no shame, but being ashamed of it, is."

"Maybe the Judge realized that you'd had a bit of a rough start in life.  Maybe he could see that your bad reputation wasn't deserved."

"You mean because of my mother."

"Well…"

He said quietly, "The funny thing is I was truly surprised when my mother didn't come back for Grand's funeral.  I mean, she had had friends in town before she left.  Surely one of them might have known how to contact her....  I just can't believe she didn't know."

Kate shifted uneasily.  The naked pain in his face caused a stab of guilt in her heart, and for a moment all she wanted to do was ease his suffering.  But how could she know if what she would say to him would make him feel better?  Would knowing that all he had believed in for so long was a lie really do him any good?