Theena glanced at her sister's bent head. "Jack's here."

Hera spilled peas across the weathered porch floor in her hurry to set the bowl down. Holding her skirt up, she ran barefoot across the sand to the landing, then rushed full tilt into Jack before he was ready for her.

"Damn, Hera." The two of them tumbled off the low bank into the crystal clear shallows of the Miami River.

Theena didn't mean to spy, but she was there, on the porch. How could she not see Jack on his back, little wavelets washing over his bare shoulders, Hera on top of him, laughing? Hera planted a wet sloppy kiss on his face before he held her off by the arms.

"Hera." Jack nodded his chin toward Theena.

Theena felt the heat rise in her face and knew she was tomato red.

Hera tossed her curls and made sure she spoke loud enough for Theena to hear. "'Spect there's no law 'bout kissing in the full light of day."

Jack shifted Hera off and pulled her up the bank. He reached into the dugout for his shirt, his bare back as bronzed as his arms.

Hera walked him to the cabin, her hands wrapped around his arm. Her skirt clung to her thighs and the wet bodice plainly showed her bosom. All they'd been through with Mama and still Hera threw herself at a man like a wanton, no shame in her at all. Theena leaned against the porch post, arms crossed, and kept her eyes on the sun glitter of the river.

At the bottom of the porch steps, Jack slapped the water out of his palmetto hat. "Hey, Shrimp. How's your daddy doing?"

"About the same."

He nodded, a worry line on his forehead. "Worse than hell being sick in the summer."

Hera reclaimed Jack by squeezing his arm to her breast. "Jack and I'll walk down to the bay to let the sun dry us off. You finish shelling the peas?"

Theena made a point of not looking at Jack and Hera strolling through the sand and picked up Hera's bowl. A damned scorpion poised under the rawhide chair, its spiny tail raised to do battle against some unsuspecting bare foot. Well that was one battle Theena could win. She lifted up the chair, aimed the tip of a leg, and squashed the damn thing.

She cradled the bowl in her lap and gouged out a row of peas from their pod. For weeks now, Hera had been making a point of keeping Jack away from her. Theena didn't know why she bothered. His eyes on Hera's wet bosom, he'd already forgotten she was there. And she, Theena Theophilus, had no business thinking it ought to be otherwise.

It's not like Theena didn't have a beau of her own. A handsome man, refined, educated. What he wanted with her, a barefoot Florida Cracker, mystified her, but she meant to live down the reputation Mama had painted her daughters with. She herself would be a proper wife and mother some day, blameless and virtuous. She wouldn't be found crawling all over Randolph Chase with no more than a spindly palm tree for a sliver of privacy.

But it was hard not to notice Jack, the way the sun streaked his brown hair and tanned his skin so that he already had smile lines around his eyes. She'd never seen a man so at ease with himself, a man who slouched against a porch post or threw a net with equal grace. Theena had been a lanky adolescent prone to awkwardness when Jack first came to the Miami River. A Conch with salt water in his veins, he had sailed up from Key West to start a citrus grove and quickly became an object of fantasy for half the women in their little fishing village. But he'd fastened his eye on the middle Theophilus sister. Sweet-faced, curvy Hera.

The door swung open and Aphrodite, the oldest of the three, came onto the porch and sighed herself down into the rawhide chair.

"Mind your foot," Theena said.

Dite glanced down at the crispy, gooey remainders of Theena's kill and rubbed her hands over her face. She had dark circles under her eyes, her skin as pale as a bleached petticoat.

"Did you get any rest?" Theena asked her.

"On toward morning, I did."

Dite glanced toward the river twenty yards across the sandy yard, frowned, and put a hand to her brow. "That sun on the water spears you right in the eye."

Theena stilled her hands over the pea shelling and admired her river. This is how she liked it best, sunbeams raying through the trees, glittering on the water. Dite wasn't usually immune to beautiful sights. She was worn down from nursing Daddy. Theena offered again. "I'll sit with him tonight."

"I'd rather sit with him myself, Theena. I can't rest when he's bad, anyway."

"All right then."

Dite shaded her eyes with her hand and peered toward the river at Jack's dugout. "Jack's here."

"Uh-huh." Theena nodded her head toward Jack and Hera headed for the beach.

Dite squinted at them. "Is her dress tail wet?"

Theena lowered her voice so Daddy couldn't hear. "You'd think after what Mama did, she'd take more care."

"It's not the same, Theena. You don't remember."

She remembered the nights she cried herself to sleep wondering how her mother could have left her. She remembered the whispers and mean looks at the store and at the little schoolhouse on the bay. Shame had curled in her belly as heavy as loss.

"Neither of them is married to someone else," Dite said. "Besides, we aren't all little miss saints in training like you." Her voice held no spite, just weariness and a hard view of the world. After Mama ran off, Dite had hired on at the Peacock Inn, working four days a week cleaning rooms, then coming home to see to the family. Dite wasn't the least bit motherly, but she'd seen that Theena kept her face washed and her hems clean. "And we don't all wait for life to just happen to us like you do."

"I don't wait . . . ." Theena glanced at the door and leveled her tone so Daddy wouldn't hear. "Anyway, you wouldn't do that." She nodded toward Hera draped around Jack's arm.

Dite's lips curved in a disdainful half-smile. "No, I would not."

Dite, as beautiful as Daddy had thought she'd be when he named her Aphrodite, drew men like flies on honey. With her fiery red hair and eyes green as a sycamore leaf, she could have any man she wanted. But she didn't mean to settle for a Florida Cracker destined to spend his life living fishing in the bay and fighting the jungle for a little garden space. She meant to use her looks to find her a rich man to take her away from South Florida forever.

Theena knew she was the not-so-pretty one. She had her Daddy's Greek coloring, dark brown eyes and heavy dark hair with only a hint of wave in it. Dite was petite, her figure a perfect hourglass. Hera had curves top and bottom, a much fuller hourglass. Theena was tall as Daddy, slender and long-waisted. She knew she suffered in comparison.

She fingered the buttons at her neck and wondered for the hundredth time if what Mama did meant there was a taint in her daughters' blood. Of the three, she seemed to be the only one who made an effort not to be like Mama. Surely her sisters knew what men were thinking when Dite arched her neck just so or Hera shoved her chest out. Theena chose to keep her bodice buttoned to the neck and loose enough not to outline her breasts. She didn't want men looking at her like that, thinking she was cheap or easy.

She waggled her foot at a fly tickling her ankle. It lit on her again and out of the corner of her eye she caught a blur of pink. She wheeled around to catch a young man dressed in Seminole finery with a flamingo feather in his hand.

"Billy, I swear. You got nothing better to do?"

"Hi, Dite." To Theena he said, "Come on down to the store with me. I'll buy you a penny candy."

Theena squinted at him. "You got smelly hides in the dugout?"

"Nope, just feathers."

"Go on, Theena," Dite said. "Give me the peas, and don't wake Daddy getting your shoes."

Daddy was already awake when she tiptoed in. "How you doing, Daddy?"

"That Billy I hear out there?"

"You want to talk to him?"

Daddy took Theena's hand. "Not now, baby. Think I'll sleep some more."

She kissed his stubbled cheek and touched his chest to feel for fever. Dite had just bathed him, and he was cool to the touch, smelling of soap instead of the sick scent that lingered around him. "I'll be back for dinner, Daddy."

She retrieved her bonnet and her shoes from under the bed. Once she settled in the dugout, Billy shoved the boat into the stream and let the current catch them. Theena trailed her fingers in the cool, clear river and admired the rosy spoonbills covering up a custard apple tree.

Under that same tree, Billy pulled over to the bank and the birds flew up in a mass of whirring pink wings. "Be a minute," Billy said and disappeared into the underbrush.

Theena lay back in the dugout and watched the clouds scud overhead. Billy would be marrying his Rosa soon. He wouldn't have time for her anymore. She'd miss him. First time she met Billy, they were eight years old. While Daddy and Sam Yoholo talked about hunting gators, Theena had sidled up to Billy and whispered, "I got puppies."

They crawled under the front porch where six little black mutts snuggled, their soft bellies bulging. Theena slid her hands around a pup and gently handed him to Billy, who buried his nose in puppy fur. Billy's pick was an ancient dog now, privileged to laze and dream under the palmetto-thatched roof of the Yoholo chickee.

Billy emerged from the deep green shade with three frothy white egret plumes held aloft to show his prizes. At Brickell's General Store landing, Billy tied up his dugout next to a dozen other boats. On a Saturday, this was the busiest spot on the coast from Fort Pierce all the way down to Key West. Here Seminoles and Crackers alike brought gator hides, pelts, feathers, and coontie starch to sell. Brickell sold them sugar and flour, salt and lard, calico, matches, fuel, fish hooks and shot gun shells -- most anything a man could use in the Florida wilds.

Billy traded in his feathers for everything on his mother's list and had credit left over to buy two strings of red beads for Rosa. He gave Theena a sheepish smile. "She won't marry me 'til you can't see her neck for all the beads. That's what she says."

They took their candy out to sit on the porch, their legs dangling over the side, saying hello to neighbors going in and out. After what Mama did, Theena had been miserable coming to Brickell's, everybody in the settlement knowing. But Dite had showed her how to brave it out with her chin up until it seemed like folks had forgotten. Now, with her best friend at her side, this porch was another home, the bay bluer than the sky, pelicans diving, gulls crying. She savored the candy and smirked at Billy's tongue stained strawberry red.

Billy nodded his head toward the man at the horse rail. "That your beau?"

Under the palms, Randolph Chase dismounted and tied his horse. The high polish of his brown leather boots caught the light. His starched white shirt gleamed bright in the shade. Randolph was blond, and therefore usually a little red from sun burn. Not tall, not short. But he always looked very fine, Theena thought. She put her candy away and hoped her lips weren't purple.

Randolph stopped in front of her rather grim faced. Where was the happy-to-see-you smile she'd come to expect? Her dress was faded but it was clean. She'd put her hair up, and she even had her shoes on. Presentable enough. She glanced at her lap where Randolph's eyes lingered. Her skirt with just one worn petticoat underneath did allow a suggestion of legs under the thin fabric. She felt her face go scarlet.

"Good morning." Randolph tipped his hat. He eyed Billy's calico turban, the tunic belted at the waist, the knee-high moccasins, but he did not speak to Billy Yoholo.

Ah. He doesn't like my sitting here with Billy. "Mr. Chase," she said formally. "This is my friend, Mr. Yoholo. Billy, Mr. Chase."

Billy hopped down, changed the candy to his left hand and held out his sticky right to shake. Theena silently counted to three, her throat closing -- surely Randolph couldn't refuse to shake Billy's hand. Then Randolph displayed the gentlemanly manners Theena admired. He offered his hand and looked Billy in the eye. "How do you do?"

Billy beamed idiotically and shook hands with great enthusiasm. "You be my good friend. We be good friends together." Billy had learned to read before she had, and she wondered if Randolph would see past Billy's simple savage act to read the intelligence in his eye.

Billy was an awful tease. Poor Randolph. Theena granted him her most winning smile. The stiffness left his shoulders and the line between his eyebrows eased. There, that was when he was most handsome, when he smiled at her like that.

"I'll call Sunday evening, if I may."

"That'll be nice," she said, meaning it.

His gaze flicked over her lips, and his own almost quirked into a smile. "All right, then. Sunday."

Randolph raised his broad-brimmed hat, nodded to Billy, and went on into the store.

"You got a mean streak, Billy Yoholo."

He grinned at her. "Yeah."

"Are my lips purple?"

"Purple as plums. You ready to go?"

Back at the Theophilus place, Theena waved good bye to Billy at the landing and hurried up to the house, hoping Dite had finished shelling those peas. It was going to be hot as three hells in the cook shed, but Daddy needed a good dinner.

Before she set foot on the porch steps, she heard him coughing again, coughing till his lungs had no breath left in them. Her hand on the latch, she squeezed her eyes shut and gathered her courage. She opened the door, prepared to be cheerful for Daddy's sake, but the smell of blood and sick sweat rolled over her. Then Dite moved aside and she saw the bloody handkerchief at Daddy's mouth, the deep red speckles on his shirt. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth against the fear bubbling up in her throat.

Dite turned swollen eyes on her. "Get some water."

Without a word, Theena hurried to the river, but her hands trembled so she could hardly draw the bucket up. Back inside, she helped Dite clean Daddy and the bed and laid him down on the moss-filled pillows. He was gray-faced and exhausted, but his breath came a little easier.

"Daddy," Theena said, "how you feeling now?"

He turned sunken eyes on her and nodded his head slightly. "Don't worry, baby," he said, and closed his eyes.

Hera sauntered back in just before dinner, her hair mussed and her lips swollen and pink. The buttons on her bodice were all off one hole so that the neckline zigzagged. Theena turned her eyes away from Hera's obviously sated state.

"Hera, you slut," Dite hissed.

Hera's rosy glow did not diminish under Dite's hostile gaze. "You can waste your life pining for some rich man to rescue you," Hera began, "but I --."

"Daddy's worse," Theena interrupted and held a hand out for Hera to come closer. Their father slept, his breath thin and labored. His skin had become pale the weeks he'd been in bed, and the fever had made him thin and blotchy. At sight of the bloody foam bubbling on his lips, Hera pressed a hand to her heart.

Dite motioned toward the door. On the porch, Hera turned on her older sister. "We have to get the doctor. Right now."

"Daddy said no doctor," Dite told her.

"Why not?"

Her face haggard, Dite shook her head. "It won't do any good."

"I'm going to send for the doctor," Hera said and went inside for her shoes.

Relief eased the tightness in Theena's chest. She had yielded to Daddy when she herself had suggested a doctor, but Hera wouldn't yield. At Brickell's Hera could send a message to Fort Pierce. The doctor could be here as early as tomorrow evening.

The rest of the afternoon, Theena sat with Dite to watch their daddy sleep. They ate a bit of cold supper, but Daddy wouldn't have any. "Water, just water," he said when they urged him to eat half a banana.

Hera came home looking ragged and weary. "Mr. Brickell's relaying word up the coast. Doc Moses will come soon as he can."

"All right," Dite said, her voice flat.

At twilight, Theena closed the shutters over the cheesecloth-covered windows. It'd be stifling hot in the cabin, but cheesecloth offered no challenge to the evening mosquitoes who took on a meanness and determination that sunshine mosquitoes didn't have the energy for.

"Not tonight, Theena," Dite said softly. "Daddy needs a little breeze."

The resigned note in Dite's voice scared Theena more than Daddy's pallor. She hugged her elbows to her ribs. If even Dite had lost hope . . . .

Stavros Theophilus woke when Hera lit the kerosene lantern. His dark eyes took in his three girls, soon to be orphaned and alone in the world. He'd named Hera thinking of Zeus's queen, but she hadn't turned out to be queenly. Not a pretentious bone in her, his Hera knew what she wanted, life here on the river, and she would see to it that's what she got. Jack Spode was a good man. Even if he'd already had her, he'd marry her, and he'd provide for her. Hera he didn't have to worry about.

His gaze rested on Dite, as beautiful as her mother. He'd been a fool over that woman. How had he thought he could keep a beauty like her on a hardscrabble dirt farm? And then he'd got sick. Dite had her soft spots, and he was glad of that, but she was like her mother in more than looks. Tough, and selfish, but that meant she'd take care of herself. Looking like she did, she probably would snag a rich man, just as she said she would.

But Theena. I've spoiled her, I know that. His baby was so winning, so generous with her affection. Not as striking as Dite's red-haired beauty, but pretty. Big brown eyes, cream colored skin, and a head full of heavy black hair like his mother had had. He'd hoped for wisdom for his youngest when he'd named her Athena, but Theena was a dreamy, sensitive child. She'd took it the hardest when her mother left. Who will take care of my Theena?

"I want to talk to each of you girls," he rasped.

Theena picked up the bottle of home-made citronella and followed Hera out. Dite pulled her chair closer to the bed.

Alone with his first-born, Daddy gazed into her green eyes, so like her ma's. "You're a beauty, Dite. I reckon you know that."

Dite squeezed his hand.

"You've done fine by me, Dite, and I'm proud of you. You can always make a living nursing, it comes to that."

He watched her smooth forehead scrunch into a scowl. "I take care of you because I love you, Daddy. I don't aim to be a nurse."

He shook his head. "You got to think twice about using your looks to get on in life, sugar. Looks don't last."

"I know that, Daddy."

Her voice was tired. Tired from staying up nights with him, tired of hearing all this before. Since she was fifteen, he'd been saying this, but he had to say it one last time. "You meet up with one of those rich yachtsmen, that's all right. But you be sure he wants you for more than pretty hair and a pretty face. You get you a piece of paper before you run off with him."

"Don't worry about me, Daddy. I'm going to be fine. You know it."

He patted his beautiful girl's hand. "I believe you will be, honey." He nodded toward the door. "It's Theena I worry about."

"Randolph Chase has money, a name. Everything."

"You think he'll marry her?"

"He'll marry her if she'll let him."

He rubbed a hand over his aching chest. "I know she's got a crush on Jack." He looked at his eldest. She'd have to be the one to see Theena got on with growing up. "You'll talk to her?"

"I will, Daddy." She kissed his hot forehead. "I'll send Hera in."

Dite came out, Hera went in. Theena made room for her on the top step and handed her the citronella to keep the mosquitoes from carrying her away.

Dite dabbed her neck with citronella and screwed the cap back on the bottle. "I want you to listen to me."

Theena tensed. This was how Dite's lectures always began.

"You have to face up to Daddy leaving us."

"Daddy's been sick before. It's just so hot now, but when --."

Dite held a hand up to stop her. "That's just what I mean. Daddy's worse this time, worse than he's ever been. You have to quit your dreaming and figure out how you're going to live."

"But the doctor is coming. He could be here late tomorrow, or the next day."

"And what do you think Doc Moses can do?" Dite snapped. "Put a tourniquet on Daddy's chest?"

Theena leaned her face into her knees.

"Look at you. Hiding. Daddy won't be here to take care of you anymore. You understand that?"

Theena did want to hide. She wanted Daddy to be well. She wanted life to be simple.

Dite's voice came out harsh, like her throat was full of sand. "You'll be the death of Daddy, you and your dreamy secrets."

Theena jerked back as if she'd been slapped, her eyes shocked.

Dite rubbed her forehead. "I didn't mean that." She reached for Theena's hand. "It's not your fault Daddy's sick. But you have to grow up and forget about Jack Spode."

Theena pulled her hand away. "I don't --."

"Hera may pretend she doesn't see it, but it's plain as day. And I know you. You get your heart set on something, and it's like your head turns to moss. For Daddy's sake, be practical. You can't have Jack Spode, ever, so just make up your mind to it."

"Don't you think I know that?" Theena's jaw tightened and she tipped her chin up. "I would never --."

Hera stood in the door and looked from one sister to the other. "What were you saying about Jack?"

"Nothing. Go on in, Theena. Wipe your face before Daddy sees you."

Inside, Daddy's eyes were huge and dark across the room. Crickets chirped under the house, but the silence in the cabin felt heavy as fog. Theena sat down in the chair next to the bed and took his hand. "You haven't coughed for a while, Daddy. You feeling a little better?"

"Honey, I'm not going to feel better. You need to understand that."

Theena rested her forehead on the bed next to her father.

"I'm sorry, baby. I wish I could take care of you a little longer." He stroked her hair. She swallowed, trying not to choke on the heavy lump in her throat. "I want you to hear me out, Theena. Sit up here and look at me."

Theena wiped her face and sat up straight.

"You like this Chase boy well enough?"

"I like him."

"I want you to marry him. I know he hasn't asked you yet, but Dite says he will, if you just give him some encouragement."

She did like Randolph, very much, but he hadn't said anything about marrying her. He'd been courting her since the winter, and still . . . they'd barely held hands. "Daddy, I --."

Daddy coughed and lay back gasping for air. She propped him up on his pillows and wiped his face with a damp cloth. When he could, he said, "Theena, the world is a hard place for a woman alone. You got to have a man, and I want to rest easy you'll do as I say."

"Daddy, I can fish and make starch -- or take in sewing."

Daddy shook his head. "You're not cut out to be alone. I can't stand the thought of you getting poorer every year till your elbows poke through your sleeves." He stopped to breathe a minute. "You hear what I'm saying? I want you to marry Chase. You do that for me?"

Theena nodded. "All right, Daddy. I will."

"You be a good wife to him, and he'll be good to you." Daddy closed his eyes.

Theena kissed his hand and laid her cheek against it. His breath came fast and shallow, and his hand was hot and dry. She dipped the cloth in the basin and bathed his shrunken arms and chest to take the fever down.

"I love you, Daddy," she whispered.

The three girls sat the night next to Daddy's bed. He'd doze a while, then be seized by another coughing fit, soaking yet another handkerchief, the blood a deeper red with each spell. His weathered face paled to ash.

Theena prayed for Doc Moses to come. He had a bag full of medicines. Something would make her father well again. Her hands knotted in her lap, her chest ached at the rattle in her father's, and her own lungs strained for breath with his every gasp.

Before the sun rose over Biscayne Bay, Stavros Theophilus passed away.