The Bone Garden: A Novel

dun-colored wool, and when she wiped her hand across her cheek, she left behind a cindery smudge. He thought of how different she was from the Welliver sisters with their silk gowns and pretty fringed scarves and fine Morocco leather boots. There was not a moment, keeping company with those sisters, when he'd felt he was actually seeing them for who they were, so skilled were they at the dishonest game of flirtation. Not like this girl, who openly yawned and rubbed her eyes as naturally as any child awakening from a nap.

She looked up at him. — Did you tell him? What did he say? —

— Dr. Grenville reserves judgment. He wants to hear the story from your own lips. — He leaned in close and placed his hand on her shoulder. — Rose, he made a generous offer, one that both Wendell and I think is for the best. Dr. Grenville has offered to take in Meggie. —

She went rigid. Instead of gratitude, what flashed in her eyes was panic. — Tell me you didn't agree! —

— It would be so much better for her. Safer and healthier. —

— You had no right! — She shot to her feet. Staring into her eyes, Norris saw the primal fierceness of a girl prepared to sacrifice everything for someone she loved. A girl so loyal that she'd endure anything to see her niece survive. — You gave him Meggie? —

— Rose, I'd never betray your trust! —

— She's not yours to give! —

— Listen to me. Listen. — He took her face in his hands and forced her to meet his gaze. — I told him you're the only one who'll decide. I told him I'd do only what you want. I follow your orders, Rose, whatever your wishes. You're the one who knows best, and I just want you to be happy. —

— You mean that? — she whispered.

— Yes. Truly. —

They stared at each other for a moment. Suddenly her eyes went bright with tears and she pulled away. How small she is, he thought. How fragile. Yet this girl has carried the weight of the world, and its scorn as well. She's quite a pretty girl, Wendell had said. Looking down at her now, Norris saw a pure and honest beauty that glowed even through the smudges of ash, a beauty that the Welliver sisters could never match. They were merely two simpering princesses dressed in satin. This girl had so little to her name, yet she'd taken that half-wit Billy under her wing. She'd scraped together all she owned to buy her sister a decent burial and keep her niece fed.

This is a girl who'd stand by me. Even if I don't deserve it.

— Rose, — he said, — it's time for us to speak of the future. —

— The future? —

— What happens next to you and Meggie. I must be honest: My prospects at the college are dim. I don't know if I can afford to keep this room, much less keep us all fed. —

— You want me to leave. — She said it as a statement of fact, as if no other conclusion was possible. How easy she made it for him just to send her away. How generously she absolved him of all guilt.

— I want you to be safe, — he said.

— I don't break, Norrie. I can live with the truth. Just tell me. —

— Tomorrow, I go home to Belmont. My father expects me for the holiday. I can tell you it won't be a cheerful stay. He's not one for celebration, and I'll probably spend it doing chores around the farm. —

— You needn't explain. — She turned. — I'll be gone in the morning. —

— Yes, you'll be gone. With me. —

Suddenly she turned back to him, her eyes wide with delight. — Go to Belmont? —

— It's the safest place for you both. There'll be fresh milk for Meggie, and a bed of your own. No one will find you there. —

— I can bring her? —

— Of course we'll bring her. I wouldn't dream of leaving her behind. —

Sheer delight sent her flying into his arms. Small though she was, she almost knocked him backward. Laughing, he caught her and twirled her around in the tiny room, and felt her heart beating joyfully against his.

Suddenly Rose pulled away and he saw the doubt in her face. — But what will your father say about me? — she asked. — About Meggie? —

He couldn't lie to her, certainly not with her gazing so directly into his eyes. — I don't know, — he said.

Twenty-eight

IT WAS PAST THREE when the farmer stopped his wagon at the side of the Belmont road to let them off. They still had two miles to walk, but the sky was blue and the ice-crusted snow glittered bright as glass in the afternoon sun. As they trudged down the road with Meggie in Rose's arms, Norris pointed out which fields belonged to which neighbor. He would introduce her to them all, and they'd all adore her. The run-down house over there belonged to old Ezra Hutchinson, whose wife had died of typhus two years ago, and the cows in the adjoining field belonged to widow Heppy Comfort, who had her eye on the now eligible Ezra. The neat house across the road belonged to Dr. and Mrs. Hallowell, the childless couple who had been so kind to him over the years, who'd welcomed him into their home as if he were their own son. Dr. Hallowell had opened his library to Norris and last year had written the glowing recommendation letter to the medical college. Rose took in all this information with a look of eager interest, even the trivial tidbits about Heppy's lame calf and Dr. Hallowell's eccentric collection of German hymnals. As they neared the Marshall farm, her questions came more quickly, more urgently, as though she was feverish to know every detail of his life before they arrived. When they crested the rise, and the farm appeared on the horizon, she stopped to stare, her hand shielding her eyes from the setting sun's glare.

— It's not much to look at, — he admitted.

— But it is, Norrie. It's where you grew up. —

— I couldn't wait to escape from it. —

— I wouldn't mind living here at all. — Meggie stirred awake in her arms and gave a contented gurgle. Rose smiled at her niece and said, — I could be happy on a farm. —

He laughed. — That's what I like about you, Rose. I think you could be happy anywhere. —

— It's not the where that counts. —

— Before you say it's the people you live with, you need to meet my father. —

— I'm afraid to. The way you talk about him. —

— He's a bitter man. You just need to know that ahead of time. —

— Because he lost your mother? —

— She abandoned him. She abandoned both of us. He's never forgiven her. —

— Have you? — she asked, and looked at him, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold.

— It's getting late, — he said.

They walked on, the sun sinking lower, bare trees casting their spindly shadows across the snow. They came to the old stone wall, glistening with ice, and heard the bellowing of cows in the barn. As they neared the farm, it seemed to Norris that the house was smaller and humbler than he remembered. Had the clapboards been so weathered when he'd left only two months ago? Had the porch always sagged, the fence always leaned so crookedly? The closer they got, the heavier the burden of duty seemed to weigh on his shoulders, and the more he dreaded the coming reunion. Now he regretted dragging Rose and the baby into this. Though he'd warned her that his father could be unpleasant, she showed no signs of apprehension, walking quite cheerfully beside him, humming to Meggie. How could any man, even his father, dislike this girl? Surely she and the baby will charm him,