Within a half hour, the green Ford Fiesta was rolling along behind the old Blazer, traveling at a blistering speed of forty-five miles an hour. It was going to be a long, long drive. Finn almost wished the cops would pull him over and haul him off.

I PULLED OUT Finn’s guitar about a half hour into the trip. I’d placed it in the front to make room for our passengers, and I’d sung a few songs just to keep them entertained. I was pretty sure little Katy knew exactly who I was. Finn was pretty sure of it too, and he kept shooting me looks, and I kept giving him smiles. He needed to relax. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and nobody was going to be sending him to jail. He clearly wasn’t used to having people talking about him, having news stories about him, having to live with the whole world thinking they were entitled to your business just because you sold records. I wasn’t worried about the police, and I definitely wasn’t worried about Katy Harris and her mama and baby sister calling the tabloids the minute we reached Portsmouth.

“Your name is Bonnie and you sound just like Bonnie Rae Shelby,” Katy said, her voice hushed and her eyes wide. “You look like her too, but with different hair.”

“That’s because I am Bonnie Rae Shelby,” I said. Finn looked at me and rolled his eyes. I stuck out my tongue and Katy laughed.

“How come you cut off your hair?” Katy obviously had no trouble believing I was who I said I was.

“I needed a change,” I lied. She didn’t need to know about the meltdown I’d had over my resemblance to Hank. “Just think, your hair will be as long as mine soon, and then you’ll be able to say you have Bonnie Rae hair, right?”

“Yeah! Except my hair is blonde . . . when I have hair, that is.”

“Well, then. I might just have to go blonde again so that we can be twins. Will you send me pictures so I can get the color just right?”

Katy’s mama, Shayna, was staring at me with her mouth hanging wide open. She blinked a few times and then closed her mouth without saying a word.

“Will you sing another song?” Katy asked.

“Sure. What’s your favorite one?”

“I love all of them. You choose.”

“Well, Finn likes a song called “Goober Peas”—I think baby Riley would like it too.” Finn just shook his head, and I tried not to laugh. He was such a grouch. I launched into an exuberant version of “Goober Peas” which the baby did indeed enjoy, kicking her chubby legs in her car seat, but which had Finn wincing.

“There’s a song my daddy used to sing called “Down in the Valley.” It’s kind of a sad one, but Riley looks a little sleepy. Maybe I can sing her to sleep, whaddaya think?” Shayna looked like she was ready to keel over too, and maybe if the baby slept, she would get a much-needed nap.

“Okay.” Katy smiled, nodding.

“Down in the valley, valley so low

Hang your head over, hear the wind blow

Hear the wind blow, love, hear the wind blow

Hang your head over, hear the wind blow”

“Roses love sunshine, violets love dew

Angels in heaven know I love you

Know I love you, love, know I love you

Angels in heaven know I love you.”

I had to stop suddenly, the words getting to me. Katy had pulled off her sock monkey cap and laid her head down on her mother’s lap. Her thin neck looked scarcely big enough to hold up her bare head, and her mama stroked the smooth skin as I sang. There was a time Minnie had looked just like Katy, bald head and all, and the sight of Katy’s little hairless head was almost more than I could bear.

Finn glanced at me, his gaze sharp, not missing much, I was sure, and I played a few measures on the guitar, trying to control the emotion that had caught me off guard. It was the line about angels in heaven, I supposed. I winked at Finn, pretending I was just fine, and sang a different verse that wouldn’t make me think of Minnie.

“Write me a letter, send it by mail

Send it in care of the Birmingham jail

Birmingham jail, love, Birmingham jail

Send it in care of the Birmingham jail.”

“Nice, Bonnie Rae,” he said under his breath. I winked again and blew him a little kiss to let him know I was just teasing him. I could have changed the words to Norfolk Penitentiary, but it had too many syllables and didn’t rhyme with mail.

“He’s in jail?” Katy asked.

I stopped playing in surprise. “Who?”

“The guy in the song,” Katy answered. “He’s in jail, and she’s an angel in heaven?”

“No. I mean, yeah. He’s in jail, but she’s not an angel . . . she’s just a girl he loves, and he wishes she would love him back,” I said.

“And write him letters?” Katy asked.

“Yep. Write him letters while he’s in the penitentiary,” I answered cheerfully.

Finn sighed the sigh of a man with little patience left. I did my best not to laugh.

“There’s another verse too, Katy. You’ll like this one. It’s about a castle.

Build me a castle, forty feet high

So I can see her as she rides by

As she rides by, dear, as she rides by

So I can see her as she rides by.”

“It’s Rapunzel!” Katy whispered and tried to sit up from her mother’s lap.

Shayna’s eyes were getting heavy, and the little girl slid out from under her mother’s arm and scooted up until she was leaning between the front seats, completely tuned in to the song that was about another apparent favorite. I didn’t point out that the man was the one in the castle and the girl was riding by.