The Snow Child Part 10

aGo on,a he said. aTake the horse to the barn.a aButa"a aIall get myself inside. Go.a As she led the horse away, she looked over her shoulder to see Jack crawling up the doorstep.

A focused composure came over her as she heated water and helped Jack out of his clothes. She put a wool blanket on the floor in front of the woodstove so he could lie there while she washed the blood and dirt from his skin and hair. He grunted in pain occasionally, especially as she dabbed at the abrasions across his shoulder blades. What concerned her more was the deep purple that had begun to well up across his lower back.

aI should go for help.a He shook his head. aJust get me into bed.a She decided to leave the superficial wounds unbandaged, hoping theyad heal faster that way, and slid a clean long-underwear shirt over his head. Half naked, Jack went on hands and knees into the bedroom. Mabel helped him onto the bed. Later she brought him a bowl of broth and tried to spoon it into his mouth, but he only gritted his teeth in pain.

She sat up late that night with a candle on the table and a cup of cold tea in front of her. Occasionally she heard the bed creak and Jack moan. He had shattered bones beforea"caught his hand between pallets at the family farm, broke his leg when a horse rolled on hima"but she had never seen him like this. She knew the pain would worsen by tomorrow. She thought of the empty fields and the frantic pace he had been working, often twelve hours at a stretch, and still he said he would never get it done. Even if he healed quickly, this could ruin them.

Mabel never really slept that night. Her agitated mind worked in relentless circles of planting days and calculated earnings, circles that always came back to a place with no answers. Occasionally she nodded in the chair, only to startle awake at the sound of Jackas cries.

Her prediction was correcta"his pain doubled up on itself through the night, and by morning Jack could hardly speak. She gently rolled him onto his side and lifted his shirt. The bruises ran deep to the bone.

aMy feet are numb, Mabel.a His whisper was desperate.

She smoothed her hand across his forehead and kissed him on the lips. She spoke with a calm a.s.surance she did not feel. aIall be right back.a She brought him water and soft bread, then told him she would be outside for a while feeding the horse.

She had saddled a horse only a few times in her life, but she decided it would be faster than the wagon. She did not want to leave Jack alone, but like the problems she had worried over during the night, there seemed to be no other answer. She would go for a doctor.

Despite the summer she had spent in town, she couldnat recall where to find the doctor. He probably had a room in the boardinghouse or somewhere in the hotel. After the wearying two-hour ride from the homestead, Mabel dismounted and walked the horse along the dirt road to the general store. Jack had always spoken well of Joseph Palmer, the owner. She remembered him as a kind man with a short white beard and quiet manner.

The old man seemed embarra.s.sed on Mabelas behalf when she asked after a doctor.

aNo doctor around here. Nearest one would be in Anchorage. Youad have to catch the train in.a aWhat?a aWe donat have a doctor, dear. Never have,a he repeated gently.

aYou must be joking? No doctor? Isnat this a town, for G.o.das sake?a Mabel took a slow breath, tried to find some small reservoir of strength inside herself. Mr. Palmer nodded as she told him of Jackas injuries. Head known men who twisted up their backs, and doctors never could do much anyways.

aYouave just got to let time take its course. Itall either heal, or it wonat,a and he said it as if he regretted the truth, as if he knew what hung in the balance.

Aside from train tickets to Anchorage, Mr. Palmer could offer her only a brown gla.s.s bottle.

aGive him a bit every few hours. Itall ease the pain and help him sleep,a he said. aAnd donat worry about giving him too much. Iave known men who drink it regularly and donat seem overly affected.a Mabel paid and thanked him. As she turned toward the door, he spoke again.

aIt might not seem proper, but you could consider getting him a few jars of drink. Ted Swanson, on the other side of the tracks, down by the river. He could help you. It might do Jack some good, mix a bit of that in alcohol. I donat usually make such recommendations, but it sounds as if heas in need.a Laudanum and moonshinea"all this place could offer her injured husband. She mounted the horse and galloped toward their homestead, too angry to be frightened.

CHAPTER 23.

Sticky cottonwood buds cracked open beneath blue skies and the mud in the fields turned to moist, rich soil, but Mabelas grief seemed beaten over and dusty and all too familiar. Something akin to hunger or thirst clung to the back of her throat, and she considered drinking some of Jackas laudanum but didnat. Backlit by the brilliant sun, the cabin was dark and cool. She didnat light the fire, but kept candles burning. In the bed where she no longer slept, Jack lay in a stupor, calling out only when the painkiller wore off. She thought of what Esther had told her about moose, how they often starved to death just as spring arrives. Having lived through the depths of winter, the long-legged animals wallow in the heavy, wet snow and succ.u.mb to exhausted despair.

She was alone. The strong husband who had cared for her was a crumpled man who sobbed in the night and begged her to leave him, to go back home and find a new life without him. The little girl she had begun to love had vanished, another child lost. Sitting upright in the chair, she slept in brief, intense bouts at odd hours and dreamed of a b.l.o.o.d.y, stillborn infant and puddles of snowmelt. The fairy tale from her sisteras letter haunted her dreams. aWhenever I do know that you love me little, then I shall melt away again. Back into the sky Iall goa"Little Daughter of the Snow.a When Mabel woke, she could not even grieve her dreams. There was too much to be done: caring for the horse, hauling water, helping Jack to a makeshift chamber pot, cooking meals, even if she alone ate them. Fatigue distorted her sense of time, and often she did not know whether it was day or night, dusk or dawn.

One afternoon, when the nightmares would not leave her, she went outside and blinked against the sun. She threw bread sc.r.a.ps to the wild chickadees and pine grosbeaks and talked to them as if they could understand, but they only scattered at the sound of her voice. She went to the pasture and stroked the horseas soft muzzle. She wandered into the trees and picked the boughs of highbush cranberries, and, with the tiny white blossoms clasped in her hands, she let her eyes search for the girl, but the woods were silent. She thought of the black bear and the wolves. She only had to get Jack well enough to travel, and then they would leave this place. There was nothing for them here.

ah.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo! Anyone at the homestead?a With the sun in her eyes, she couldnat make out the figure on horseback. The man dismounted and removed a burlap sack from his saddlebags. It was George. Relief nearly buckled Mabelas knees, and when he offered her his arm, she took it gratefully.

aSo the old man is laid up, eh?a He led her indoors to a chair and began taking clinking Mason jars from the sack. He lined them up on the table, each jar sparkling with clear liquid.

aNow, donat give me that look, Mabel. Never been a better excuse than a broken back. So where is he?a Mabel pointed to the bedroom where Jack slept.

aHe canat walk on his own yet,a Mabel whispered. aAnd when the laudanum wears off, the pain is unbearable.a George shook his head side to side and clicked his tongue softly. ad.a.m.n. Heas not up to snuff, is he?a aNo, George. No, he is not.a She stood and began putting the jars of moonshine onto a shelf in the kitchen, as if it made some difference.

aAs soon as he is well enough, Iall schedule our travel,a she said. aAnd I know he will want you to have any of our tools and equipment, and of course the horse. We wonat be able to take any of it with us, Iam afraid.a aMabel?a aWe canat stay here. You must see that.a aYouare leaving the homestead? For good?a aWe were barely keeping it going as it was, George. And thereas just the two of us. It has been a fantastic adventure, coming here. But now itas time we accepted our lot and went home.a aYou canat just walk away. Youave done so much work with the place. Thereas got to be another way.a George glanced toward the bedroom. aHow longas he been like this?a aMore than a week.a aAnd how much had he gotten done on the fields before he got hurt?a aHe was still just preparing them.a aNothingas been planted?a Mabel shook her head.

aG.o.dd.a.m.na"excuse the French. Itas just a h.e.l.luva blow, isnat it?a aYes, George. It truly is.a He was unusually quiet as he mounted his horse.

aWeall say goodbye before we go,a Mabel called to him from the cabin door. aTell Esther thank you, for everything. You were truly the most wonderful neighbors we could have hoped for.a George glanced back at her, shook his head, and rode off without a word. Mabel was certain his look was reproachful.

She was emptying the basin behind the cabin later that afternoon when she heard a wagon approaching on the dirt road. She hurried indoors and began to hide the linens and underwear she had been washing.

aDonat do that on our account.a Mabel heard Estheras laugh at the door.

aOh, Esther!a She was surprised to find herself hugging her, then pressing her face into her friendas shoulder and sobbing.

aGo on. Go on. You have yourself a cry.a Esther patted her on the back. aThere you go.a Mabel pulled away, smiled, and wiped her face. aLook at me. Iam a mess. What an awful way to greet a visitor.a aI wouldnat expect anything else. Poor woman, here for days on your own caring for a banged-up man. Strong as they are, theyare like children with pain. No birthing to toughen them up, I say.a Esther looked Mabel straight in the eye when she said this, and there was no wince of regret or embarra.s.sment. It was as if Esther knew exactly what memories she conjured, and Mabel understooda"she had gone through labor, if only to deliver a dead child. She had survived that, hadnat she? It was as if she had reached into her own pocket and discovered a small pebble, as hard as a diamond, that she had forgotten belonged to her.

aWhere the h.e.l.l am I supposed to put this?a Garrett stood in the doorway, glaring over a heap of parcels in his arms.

aWatch your mouth. And put it wherever you can find room. Then go get the rest.a aWhat is all this, Esther?a aSupplies.a aBut we donata didnat George tell you?a aAbout your harebrained plan to ditch us? Oh, he told me all right. We finally get some interesting friends and you think weare going let you go without a fight.a aBut we are leaving, so we donat need any of this.a Mabel dropped her voice to nearly a whisper. aAnd honestly, Esther, we donat have the money to pay for it.a Garrett stomped by and dropped another armload onto the table. As the boy marched by, Esther pretended to slap him on the back of the head. Despite herself, Mabel smiled.

aDonat worry about the money. Everybody heard about your predicament and threw some stuff together. Nothing fancy, but itall keep you for a while.a aI donat know what to say. Itas too mucha too generous.a aWell, we might not have a doctor around here, but we do have a few kind hearts among us,a and Esther winked over her shoulder as she began unloading boxes and sacks.

aOh, Iam appalled at myself! I didnat mean anything by it. I was just so frustrated.a aNo harm done. Old Man Palmer was too impressed by your riding skills to be offended. He said head never seen a lady gallop in such a gentlemanly way. Garrett, put those bedrolls over there, behind the woodstove. Keep them out of the way for now.a aBedrolls?a aDidnat I mention? Weare moving in. The boy and me. We might be a bossy, ill-tempered pair, but you canat complain about free help.a aHelp? With Jack?a aWith Jack. With the planting. Youave got us for the rest of the season, or until you get sick of us.a aEsthera"no, no. We canat allow this.a aCanat allow it? I donat think you understand who youare up against here, dear heart. Weall be planting those fields, Garrett and me. You can either help or get out of the way, but weall be doing it.a Her voice was drowned out by the ruckus of Garrett dragging a horse trough through the cabin door. aCripeas sake, Ma. What the h.e.l.l did we bring this for?a aIf you werenat working your jaw, youad be getting the job done. Bring it on over here, by the woodstove.a aDonat you think theyave probably got a trough or two of their own?a He sarcastically rolled his eyes toward the barn.

aNot like this one.a The horse trough was sparkling clean and took up most of the standing room by the woodstove. Mabel had the comic realization that she was watching her house being turned into a Benson home, quarrels and clutter and all.

aGarrett, have Mabel take you out to the field so you can take a look at the plow. See if it needs any fixing. Go on, Mabel. Some fresh air will do you good, and Iall take care of things here.a The boy was sullen and unresponsive on their walk, and Mabel soon left him in the field to work on the plow. Despite a niggling guilt, she took the long way back to the cabin. She inhaled the green scent of new leaves and studied the sharp line along the mountaintops where white snow met leafy forest. Then she remembered she had missed Jackas dose of laudanum.

aBack already? You should have stayed gone a bit. Your wateras not done yet.a Esther dipped a finger into a giant pot on the woodstove. She had propped open the cabin door to let the heat escape. Mabel hurried to the bedroom. Jackas hair was damp and combed, and he smiled meekly up at her from the pillow.

aShe gave me a bath,a he said.

aEsther did?a He nodded as well as he could. Pillows and blankets propped him up in a peculiar position, with his knees bent and separated.

aAre you comfortable?a He squinted self-consciously and then nodded. aBelieve it or not.a aIam sorry I missed your dose of medicine.a aEsther gave it to me, with a nip of something stronger.a aHurry on out here,a Esther called from the other room, abefore the water gets cold or that adolescent son of mine comes back.a She was dumping the pot of steaming water into the horse trough.

aUsually itad be the other way around, ladies first, but I wanted to get those wounds clean as possible. Youare getting some fresh water on top of that, though.a Mabel wanted to refuse, to tell Esther she had done too much, but she stripped and climbed into the knee-deep hot water while Esther stood guard at the door.

aTake your time. Itas not every day youare getting a bath like that.a Beside the makeshift tub Esther had placed a chair that held a clean washcloth, a bar of milled soap, and a bottle of lavender-scented shampoo. The water was almost unbearably hot, but Mabel let herself sink until even her head was submerged and her untied hair floated around her. Each time she started to get out of the tub, Esther ordered her back in, so she soaked until the water was tepid and the skin on her fingers and toes wrinkled. When she finally did get out, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains and left the perpetual twilight of a summer night. Esther wrapped her in a towel and fluffed her hair.

aThere. Now weare getting somewhere. Dinner will be ready soon. Get some comfortable clothes on. Nothing fancy. Just something to sleep in. I expect Garrett will be gone until late, looking at the fields. Heas not keen on bunking with two old women, but heall get tired eventually.a With both of them wearing nightgowns, Esther served Mabel black bear stew hot from the stove and fresh biscuits. Then she spread out three bedrolls.

aI figured youad been sleeping in a chair for days now. I know how it is when youave got a sick one tossing and turning in your bed. But these arenat so bad. I even brought you a clean one. Come on now,a and she crawled beneath her covers and patted the bedroll beside her.

Mabel found it an unexpected relief to rest her head on a pillow, to be clean and fed and not alone.

aSo, do you really think we can manage this?a she whispered from beneath her covers. aYou and Garrett and me? Planting our whole farm?a aI wouldnat be here if I didnat think we could do something.a aBut what about your own place?a aGeorgeas got Bill and Michael there to help, and wead planned on hiring a couple of the youngsters from town to help with planting. Weave got a good portion done already.a aI donat know how to thank you.a aWeare not there yet.a The two women were silent a while, and then Esther spoke gently. aAnd what of your little girl?a aSheas gone, Esther.a She reached over and found Mabelas hand and squeezed it once.

aSweet Mabel,a she said. aI suppose now that youare getting some sunshine and fresh air, she isnat coming around anymore.a Mabel didnat answer, only stared at the ceiling for a long time. She thought Esther might have fallen asleep, and she had nearly dozed off herself when she began to laugh, quietly at first, but then louder.

aWhatas tickled your funny bone?a aYou really gave Jack a bath? I can hardly believe it,a Mabel said. aHis mother. Myself. I donat think another woman has everaa aIave been married for thirty years and have three sons. When youave seen one, youave seen aem all.a The two women were giggling when Garrett walked in the door.

aWhat? Whatas so funny?a he asked, but his stern face and blushing cheeks only made them laugh harder.

Voices rolled over Jack in waves that left him nauseous and confused, so he let himself sink back into the thick liquid of laudanum and moonshine. It was a warm, black place, without past or future or meaning. Later, when he woke to quiet shadows, his head was clear and thudding. He didnat understand the laughter he had heard before. Then he remembered Esther, helping him naked into a horse trough of hot water. Pain burned a hole through the center of his back and radiated up through his chest, and he sobbed. He stuffed a fist into his mouth to stifle it, and he sobbed and sobbed. Self-pity. Thatas what this was. It wasnat the searing nerves and muscle spasms that tore him apart. It was his life reduced to useless burden.

aJack?a A whisper from the bedroom door. aYou needing something?a He swallowed hard and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

aTime for another dose?a It wasnat Mabel.

aEsther? Youare here?a aShhh. Giving your wife a break. Drink this.a She had mixed laudanum and moonshine in a tin cup, and he drank it down in a noisy gulp. She took the cup, then with a handkerchief wiped the wetness from his eyes and cheeks.

aThis too shall pa.s.s, Jack. I know it doesnat seem like it now, but it will. Me and Garrett are here to help, and Mabelas tougher than she lets on. This isnat all on your shoulders now. Youave got some help. You understand? Itas going to be all right.a But Jack was seeking out that deep, opaque place where sound and pain and light are muted, where a man doesnat have to put words to his despair because his numb tongue and useless lips canat speak anything at all.

CHAPTER 24.

Esther insisted on being Jackas primary nurse, slowly reducing the laudanum doses and increasing the length of his daily walks. First, just to the kitchen table. Then to the outhouse so at least he wouldnat have to use a chamber pot.

aYouare too easy on him, Mabel. Heas got to get up and move. Itas the only way those muscles can start to work again.a aBut heas in so much pain.a aAt some point his hurt is deeper than a sore back. Do you know what Iam saying? Itas a more terrible kind of hurt, a kind that opium and drink only make worse. Heas got to get on his own two feet. Heas got to see his land and help us make some decisions so that he knows itas still his, even if he canat get his hands in the dirt.a So while Garrett showed Mabel how to cut seed potatoes so each piece had one eye, Esther spent the morning walking Jack around the fields. Mabel couldnat bear to watch his slow shuffle. It was as if he had aged a century in a month. His face was gaunt and his back bent. When his foot caught on a root or rut, he would grunt and stand in one place, his eyes closed and his jaw muscles clenching and unclenching. She would have been ashamed to admit it to anyone, but she was glad to sit in the yard with Garrett, to cut seed potatoes rather than escorting her husband on his agonizing walk.

And the boy wasnat such terrible company. Esther said he was chafing at the humiliation of having to work another manas homestead with two old women. He thinks he wants to be a mountain man, Esther said, that farming is beneath him. But heas a good boy. He works hard when he puts his mind to it.

Mabel observed Garrettas resentment; he stomped in and out of the cabin and sulked when his mother ordered him around. But when she was alone with him, the boy was less petulant. He was, actually, patient and instructive, and did not patronize her. Never once did he say, aNow, watch that knifea or aMind you donat cut yourself.a He a.s.sumed Mabel could do the work, and so she could. Soon she was almost as fast as he was with the paring knife.

The sun climbed higher in the sky and warmed the top of Mabelas head while she tossed the cut seed potatoes into the burlap sack between them. It was lunchtime, and she didnat know where the morning had gone. The boy followed her inside and helped her fix a meal of cold sliced moose steak and yesterdayas bread. After Esther helped Jack back into bed, the three of them ate quickly while standing in the kitchen, Mabelas hands still smudged with dirt and her dress sleeves pushed up.

When they went out to load the wagon with the seed potatoes, Mabel followed. It was only as she handed a heavy burlap sack to Garrett on the back of the wagon that she appreciated what she was doinga"farmwork. The boy took no notice of her pause, but grabbed the bags and hopped down. As Esther drove the wagon toward the field, Mabel and Garrett followed behind.

aMaybe none of my business,a he said, abut that dress might get in your way. You donat have any trousers or anything, do you? Mom always wears overalls when sheas working.a aNo, I donat have anything like that. The dress will have to do.a Garrett looked skeptical but kept walking.

Esther dropped sacks of seed potatoes up and down the field, then harnessed the horse to a cultivator to form the rows. Garrett and Mabel followed. The boy showed her how far apart to plant and how deep to dig the hole before dropping in the cut potato, following her to scoop dirt over the top and lightly pat. As they worked, they dragged the burlap sack along with them.

After a time the work became methodical and rhythmic, and Mabelas mind wandered. She planted with bare hands and thought of soil, warm and crumbling between her fingers, and of sprouting plants and decaying leaves. She stood, shook out her skirts, bent again toward the earth, dug another hole, dropped in a potato, then another hole, another potato. She pressed her hand into the dirt mound, like a little grave.

Here in the potato field, the colors were too sharp and full of yellow sun and blue sky. Even the air was different than back in Pennsylvania, drier and cleaner. Time had pa.s.sed, more than a decade. Yet as she knelt here, Mabel was back there. Pewter moonlight. The paths of the orchard. Rough ground beneath her knees. A dead child two days buried.

She remembered how she had left Jack asleep in bed to wander out of doors in her nightgown. Weakened and bruised by her long labor, she didnat know what led her down the gravel drive to the orchard, where the trees stood brown and leafless in the blue moonlight.

That is where he would have dug the grave, in the ground his family had farmed for generations. She crawled between the trees, her knees and palms sc.r.a.ped. When she found nothing, she stood and felt a painful tingling in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and suddenly milk trickled down her front, wet her nightgown, dribbled onto her belly, spilled uselessly to the ground.

I cannot survive this grief, she had thought.

aAre you OK?a Garrettas shadow fell across her face, and she didnat know how long she had been there, kneeling in the dirt.

aYes. Yes. Iam fine,a Mabel said. She wiped her dirty hands on her dress. aI was only recalling something.a When she looked up at Garrett, the boyas eyes widened.

aAre you sure youare all right? Becausea well, because you donat look so good.a The boy gestured toward her face. A few tears must have run down her dirt-smeared cheeks, and the lines would look ghastly.

aPlease forgive an old womanas weepiness,a she said and began to search for something to wipe her face.

Garrett stood staring.

aSurely youave seen a woman cry before.a He shrugged.

aNo? Perhaps not. I certainly cannot imagine your mother blubbering about.a aShould we go back? Do you need a rest?a aNo. No. Just something to wipe my face.a The boy searched his pockets for a handkerchief, and finding nothing, he unrolled the sleeve of his work shirt and held up the cuff. aItas kind of dirty, but youare welcome to it.a Mabel smiled and blotted her eyes with his shirtsleeve. aThank you,a she said.

As the boy turned to reach for the burlap sack at his feet, Mabel caught his sleeve again and held his arm with both hands. aIave been wanting to ask you something, Garrett.a aYes maaam?a aDid you ever catch another fox, after that silver one?a aNo maaam, never did,a he said. He studied her thoughtfully. aAre you wanting a fox ruff? Because if you are, Iave got a few pelts left over from last year. Iam sure Betty could sew you something.a But Mabel was already bending to the earth to dig another hole.

She had survived, hadnat she? Even when she had wanted to lie down in the night orchard and sink into a grave of her own, she had stumbled home in the dark, washed in the basin, and in the morning cooked breakfast for Jack. She had put away the dishes and scrubbed the table and counters. She had baked bread. She had worked and tried to ignore the painful swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the empty cramp of her womb. And then she had done the unthinkable; she had entered the nursery and put her hands on the oak crib, the one Jack had slept in as a child, and his mother before him. She touched the pastel quilt she had sewn, and then sorrow collapsed her into the rocking chair, where she sat with her arms across her sagging belly and remembered how it had been to have another person growing inside her.

When she had the strength, she began to fold the tiny clothes and blankets and cloth diapers and put them into plain brown boxes. She didnat stop working, but the sobs came and distorted her face, bleared her eyes, made her nose run. She didnat hear Jack come to the door. When she looked up he was watching her silently, and then he turned away, uncomfortable, embarra.s.sed by her unharnessed grief. He didnat put his hand on her shoulder. Didnat hold her. Didnat say a word. Even these many years later, she was unable to forgive him that.

At the end of the row, Mabel stood, put her hands to the small of her back, and stretched. Her hem was soiled, her hands dusty and tired. She looked down the field and saw how much they had done. Garrett slapped his hands on his pant legs.

aOne row down,a he said. a aBout a thousand to go.a And the boy gave her a half smile, his eyebrows raised as if to ask aAre you still in?a Mabel nodded.

aOnward ho?a she asked.

Garrett raised a hand, like a conquering explorer.

aOnward ho!a As Esther rounded a row and headed back down the field, she slowed the horse and gave a wave to the two of them. Mabel waved back. A breeze stirred the loose strands of hair around her face and wicked away the sweat. The sky overhead was cloudless and brilliant. In the distance, beyond the trees, she could see the white mountain peaks. She lifted her skirts and stepped over the row they had just planted. Garrett pulled the burlap sack to her and they started again.

They worked until dusk and arrived back at the cabin well past dinnertime. Jack had lit the lanterns and was frying steaks.

aWhatas all this?a Esther said. She inhaled deeply and grinned. aSomething smells mighty good.a aCanat do much. Thought the least I could do is feed my help.a He smiled like a man at fault.

The next days were a blur of potatoes, earth, sun, and aching muscles as each row of planting went by. Jack did what he could but mostly stayed in the cabin and fixed meals. In the evenings everyone was too tired to talk. The boy nodded off at the dinner table with his chin propped up on his dirty hands. By the time night fell, Mabel was numb with fatigue. She had never understood how Jack could fall asleep in a chair without washing up, talking to her about his day, or even removing his filthy boots. Now she knew. Yet for all the sore muscles and monotony, the days of working in the fields filled her with a kind of pride she had never known. She no longer saw the cabin as rough, but was grateful at the end of the day for warm food and a bedroll on which to collapse. She didnat notice if the dishes went unwashed or the floor unswept.

aI think weave done it, Jack,a Esther announced one afternoon, hands on her hips. aI know you had plans to do more this year, to get some lettuce and such planted along with the potatoes. But I was thinking, weave got the potatoes in the ground and weall see what happens.a Jack nodded in agreement. Maybe it would be enough to get them by.

aWe wouldnat be here if it werenat for you two.a His voice was gravelly and genuine, but there was a dimness behind his eyes that reminded Mabel of shame. aI donat know how weall ever repay you.a Esther waved him off impatiently, and said she planned on going home that evening.

aItas been a hoot, but Iam ready to sleep in my own bed, snoring husband and all. Youare shaping up, Jack, and I think Garrett can manage the fields. Nopea"no ifs, ands, or buts about it. George and I have talked it out. Garrett works better here than he ever did at home, and our plantingas done. You can fix him a place in the barn to get him out of your hair. Then you two can have your place back to yourselves.a It was time, yet Mabel dreaded it. Jack was a different man, unsteady and unsure. She could not forget how, during the worst of it, he had cried and begged her to leave him. And then, while he hobbled about, she had gone into the fields and worked with a new strength and surety. With Esther and Garrett gone, she and Jack would once again share a bed, and she wondered if it would be like sleeping with a stranger. Jack looked at her sadly, as if he could read her thoughts.

After dinner Esther left and Mabel showed Garrett to the barn loft. He brought his bedroll, and she overturned a wooden box for him to use as a nightstand. There she set a lantern, as well as an alarm clock and a book.

aWhite Fang, by Jack London. Have you read it before?a aNo maaam.a aPlease, just call me Mabel. I think youall like this one, but if it doesnat suit you, Iave got dozens of others to choose from.a She was going to warn him to be careful with the lantern, but thought better of it. He had treated her as an equal, so she would try to do the same.

aCome inside if you need anything, even if itas just company.a aYes maaama I mean, Mabel.a aGarrett, there was one other thing Iave wanted to ask you.a aYes?a aWhen you were out there trapping last winter, did you ever see anything unusual? Tracks in the snow? Anything you couldnat explain?a aYou mean the little girl, donat you? I heard about her.a aAnd? Did you ever see any sign of her?a The boy gave a slow, disappointed turn of his head.