Page 32
“It’s the safest place we have—maybe the only place,” I said. “Especially for the girls. A few of the women are doctors. There are midwives to help with delivery. I can set up lodging for all of us. ”
Pip studied me. “When are you going?”
That word, you—not we—left me silent for a moment. “We’re leaving in a week’s time, maybe less. We’re hoping the boys left at least a few of the horses. The trip could be less than four days if we rode there. I want you both to come. ”
Ruby stood, pulling her shawl around her. “That’s a long time to be traveling. ”
“We may be able to do it faster,” I said. “The important thing is that we go as soon as possible. The troops are looking for us, and this was supposed to be only a stop along the way. ”
“Benny and Silas,” Pip said. “We can’t leave them. ”
“We won’t. ” I reached for her hand, instinctually, but she tensed at my touch. I left it there for a moment before pulling away. “We’ll have to bring them and insist they stay with us. They’re still young—they’re not a threat. ”
But Pip kept shaking her head. She stood, brushing the dirt off her pants. “I can’t,” she said, her voice low. “I won’t. We’re safe here. Everything was fine before you came. ” She turned, pulling her sweater around her, and started down one of the far tunnels.
I stood, feeling like she’d just slapped me. “I suppose you’re staying, too?” I asked Ruby, trying to keep my voice even. She’d seen me cry so many times at School, had held me as we talked about the plague, the way my mother had looked before she died. It wouldn’t have been new for either of us, and yet here, after so many months apart, she felt like a stranger. Even her face, the full cheeks and wide, deep-set eyes, was something I needed to relearn.
“I can’t leave her. ” Ruby pushed her thick black hair away from her face. “We can stay here. We’ve been managing on our own. ” She pressed her lips together, as if there were nothing more to say.
She pushed past me, starting after Pip. “I am sorry,” I said. “I know it doesn’t matter now. But I would change a lot of things if I could. ”
Ruby didn’t look back. She caught Pip’s arm, pulling her close to her side. I stood in the room alone, listening to the girls whispering, then the faint sloshing of water as Beatrice walked the buckets outside, Silas and Benny trailing behind her.
I watched their backs up ahead, turning in to the room that they shared.
Twenty-three
IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS THE BEACH WAS QUIET. CLARA started the wash, plunging the clothes into the cold water. She looked so natural doing it, rubbing the fabric together, loosening the dirt, I hardly recognized her as the girl I had met in the City Palace so many months before. She spread the clothes out on the rocks to dry, adding them to the rest. Shirts and pants, sweaters and socks—they all laid there, colorful shadows on the shore.
As Sarah and I started down the sandy incline, carrying pots for lake water, I noticed Helene. She sat off to the side, her bad foot resting in the shallows. The swelling had gone down, but it was apparent now that the bone hadn’t healed right. Her ankle was turned outward at an odd angle. She reached for it, pressing her fingers against the tender spot where it had broken. “Best not to,” I said, setting the pots down. I leaned over to examine the bone. The skin was a greenish blue—the remnants of bruising.
“It looks horrible,” she said. “Last night I woke up because it was throbbing. It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it? I’ll never be able to walk on it again. ” She searched my face, looking for some answer.
“We’ll get you better help when we reach Califia. There’s a woman there who studied medicine. I don’t know enough to tell you,” I said, brushing back her braids. But it seemed, more than a week later, that the bone had set wrong. There might’ve been a chance to rebreak it, but I couldn’t imagine that—to have to suffer through the pain all over again. I picked up the two boards and set them down on either side of her shin, helping her tie the splint back in place.
Sarah dropped her pots at the edge of the lake. “That’s what Beatrice keeps saying, but how long do we have to stay here before we can leave?” She pointed out over the water. “If we’re going to be here much longer, you have to at least teach us how to swim. How are we supposed to help fish if I can’t even go in past my knees?”
“This is a good place to rest,” I said. “We have supplies here, and we don’t need a lookout at night. We should stay a day or two more. ” I stared at a spot across the lake, just barely able to see Ruby and Pip behind the trees. They went out every morning, alone, gathering berries and wild grapes. I didn’t know if it would ever seem like enough time here. Three days or thirty, when I left I’d be leaving them all over again.
I pulled my sweater down, over the width of my stomach, making sure it was covered. Every day my body felt different. I’d traded my worn jeans for wider pants, adjusting the belt. My breasts were swollen and sore, my face fuller, and I could feel my stomach expanding out, growing harder to conceal. I hadn’t wanted to tell the girls. I’d imagined how it would change their perception of me, that I might seem weaker, more vulnerable if they knew. When we were back on the road, dividing our meager supplies, I didn’t want them worrying that there wasn’t enough. Beatrice and Clara had already insisted on sharing their small portions, trying to keep up my energy on the way to the dugout.
Then there was Caleb. It had been so long since I’d spoken his name out loud. How could I explain what had happened between us? How could the girls understand that I’d not only spent time with him but that I had loved him? Wasn’t I just like those women the Teachers had always spoken about, ruined, in some ways, by that love? It was as though some invisible wall had been erected, separating me from everyone else. Now that Caleb was dead, what was I supposed to do with the love I still felt? Where was it all supposed to go?
Pip and Ruby were coming closer, weaving through the trees. I could feel Clara watching them, waiting to see if they turned toward us, onto the beach. They’d decided to eat separately, taking their meals to their room for the past two days. They spent the afternoons with Benny and Silas, the mornings scavenging the woods by the lakefront, coming back with the occasional find—a plastic cup, bent fork, or unlabeled can. I hadn’t tried to speak to them since our first night. A silence had settled between us. I would think of the words to say, carefully forming another apology, then we’d pass in the corridor. Pip would barely look up, barely acknowledge me, and I’d be reminded again that it wasn’t enough. Nothing I said could ever be enough.
Pip had a sack in one hand. She stepped beyond the trees, Ruby following behind. I watched them approach as Sarah filled one pot, then the next. “I just want to be there already,” she said. “I feel like this whole time I’ve just been waiting. You and Beatrice keep talking about all these things we’ll have at Califia, but it just reminds everyone of what we don’t have now. ”
“We’ll leave soon,” I promised, dipping my pot into the water.