Chapter 34: The Rope

Linda stood in the lemon trees with her gloved hands clasped in front of her.

She did not come closer.

She was looking at the floor, because there was no way to look at the bench.

"I'll go," she said. "I only came to say it."

Max had pulled a coat over himself and Raven.

He was still tied, and there was nothing to do about it.

"Say what?" he said.

"Mama went north this afternoon. There's an aunt in Fenmouth who will take her in."

"That's good."

"There's one who'll take me too." Her voice wobbled. "I wanted you to know I'm not going to try again. I don't think I could."

She pulled off one glove.

She held out her bare hand, white and soft.

"I used to look at your palms when you thought nobody did," she said.

"I came in at night when you had the fever. I put cold cloths on them. I never told you."

Max stared at her.

"Why?"

"Because I'd already told the whole room it was me," Linda said. "And I couldn't undo it."

She laid the glove on the potting bench.

It was a small thing, soft and white, with the fingers curled.

Then she walked out of the greenhouse, and the gate clicked behind her.

Raven rested his forehead against Max's neck.

"That was a surprising thing to do," he said.

"Don't write it down," said Max.

"I am writing it down. Later."

The first snow fell two months later.

By then all three men showed.

James had a small tight roundness under his waistcoat, and he patted it at the breakfast table until Joel threw a roll at him.

Max carried a bag of dried apricots and a flask of honey water everywhere he went.

The packs' gift came up the river road that morning on forty wagons.

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