“Papa’s. He said you and him skated all the time when you was little.”
“Papa’s, huh?” His eyes moved to the alcove bed where Dan was resting. “You sure about that?” Still with an eye on
Dan, Rye started shrugging out of his jacket.
“Sure I’m sure. Just ask him!”
But just then Dan cleared his throat. “I ... ahhh ... I promised I’d teach him, but there’ll be no getting out for me for a while, so I thought maybe ... well—” Dan gestured with his palms.
Rye moved nearer the bed. Though he stood with thumbs hooked at his waist, it took an effort not to reach out and squeeze Dan’s shoulder. “Say no more. I’ll have him on the ice before the week is out.”
Their eyes met and held, then wavered, and finally parted in the face of indomitable emotions that suddenly sprang up between them.
Before another hour was up, Laura found herself alone with Dan, for Josh had been so persistent, Rye had finally agreed to take him to the cooperage to pick up his own skates, then on to one of the island’s many ponds to make use of the last couple of hours of daylight.
The house grew still when the two were gone, and Laura sensed Dan’s eyes following her as she moved restlessly about the keeping room, folding sheets, putting away needle and thread, adding a log to the fire. It was the first time they’d been alone in the house in weeks. A spasm of coughing gripped Dan, and Laura turned toward him as she always did, offering a cup of soothing tea. When she brought it, he shifted into a sitting position with the pillows plumped behind his back, accepted the cup, then captured Laura’s hand before she could escape.
“Sit down.”
She perched on the edge of the alcove bed, and for a moment Dan kept her hand, rubbing it distractedly with his thumb, finally releasing it to hold his mug with both palms.
“Rye tells me he’s going to the Michigan Territory with the first thaws and that you’re going with him.”
It was curious how calm Laura felt at this moment, after weeks of anticipating a great gush of guilt. “Yes, Dan, I am. I wish ... I wish there was another answer I could give that wouldn’t hurt you, but I believe it’s time for honesty among all of us. Perhaps I should have told you two weeks ago, when Rye and I made the decision, but I was waiting for you to get stronger.”
“I’ve got eyes, Laura. I’ve been watching you hem those sheets to take along.”
She stared at her lap and groped for something to say. “They say it gets very cold in the Michigan Territory this time of year, and ... and settlements are remote.”
“So I’ve heard.” His voice was deeper and gruffer than usual from days of coughing, but as he spoke now, the words were very quiet.
She looked up and met his eyes squarely. “We’ll be taking Josh along with us, Dan.”
“Yes, I know.”
The room grew still. Outside, a soft snow had begun, but inside the fire glowed gold and pink. Dan’s face was pale, but he was growing stronger each day, yet Laura understood—it took more than physical strength for Dan to face the truth.
“And I know why you sent him off with Rye—so the two of them could have some time alone, to get to know each other.” She lightly touched the back of Dan’s hand, which lay on the quilt. “Thank you.”
For a moment Dan’s eyes were tormented, then he quickly erased the drawn lines from his face, but continued gazing at Laura. “I know everything you two did,” he said. “I know how Rye picked me up off the street and brought me here and saved my fingers, and how angry he got at McColl, and how the two of you tended the fires day and night to keep me from dying of pneumonia.” His voice fell to a murmur. “Why did you do it?”
Her eyes caught and reflected the light from the fire and met Dan’s with an openness and lack of guile that told the truth with an eloquence no words could convey. “Don’t you know?” she breathed. But to say she loved him—they both loved him—would be to cause Dan unnecessary hurt, thus she only studied the play of emotions that turned his eyes soft with understanding.
“Yes ... I guess I do.”
Self-consciousness suddenly mushroomed between them, for the words need not be said to be felt. He took her hand, squeezed it in a grip that demonstrated surprising strength for a debilitated man. “Thank you,” came his gruff words. For a moment they both concentrated on their joined hands.
“Don’t thank me, Dan, just ... just please don’t jeopardize your life like that again.” She beseeched him with her eyes. “Please, don’t drink anymore.”
“I’ve already promised Rye I won’t.”
She sighed and slumped her shoulders in relief. Then she gently withdrew her hand. “Dan, there are some things, some other things, we must talk about that are very hard to say.”
“I think I know, Laura. I’m no fool. I don’t need to sleep out here in this alcove bed anymore. I know the real reason why you and Josh sleep in there.” He nodded toward the linter room.
Laura felt the blood press upward to paint her cheeks a discomfiting red. She nervously pleated and repleated the skirt over her knees, unable to lift her gaze to Dan as he went on.
“Laura, I found the busk a long time ago.”
“You did?” Her eyes flew up and her face flared to an even brighter hue.
“I did.”
“Oh, Dan, I’m so sorr—”
He presented a palm to cut her short. “We’ve been doing enough feeling sorry around here, don’t you think? There’s been you feeling sorry for me and Rye feeling sorry for you and me feeling sorry for myself, and Lord knows I’ve been the worst of the lot. At first when Rye came home, it was impossible for me to face the truth, then after I found that busk, I guess I knew this was inevitable.”
“This?”
“That I’d lose you to him.”
Hearing him voice it brought a great, crushing feeling to Laura’s heart. He looked tired and beaten and for a moment the urge to protect was there again within her.
As Dan studied Laura, he saw a weariness to match his own. “It’s been hard on you, being caught in the middle. Most of the time I forgot that and thought only of myself.”
“Dan, I want you to know that I ... I tried very hard to avoid Rye. You were so good to me, and you deserved—”
Again he silenced her with a movement of his hand. “I know. Rye told me. He laid it all out in the open the day I woke up. I’ve thought a lot about it since then, and I realize you can’t help your feelings any more than I can help mine. That’s what I fought against for the longest time. But after I had seen the busk and had proof of your feelings—both of yours—I went to see Ezra Merrill and initiated divorce proceedings.”
Laura’s teeth caught her lower lip and she stared at Dan in disbelief for several seconds. “Y ... you’ve already seen Ezra?”
Dan nodded. “In September. I was angry at... at you and Rye. Oh hell, that’s the only way I could make myself go talk to Ezra—if I got angry enough. But once I’d talked to him I wasn’t able to carry through with it, and that’s when I ... well, I started staying at the Blue Anchor in the evenings. Then the rumor started about Rye and DeLaine Hussey and I got hopeful again and went back to Ezra and told him to stop everything.”
Laura’s heart was thumping hard. She remembered the time Dan had manhandled her, venting his frustrations. Yes, it would have taken anger to make Dan act.
“Ezra, of course, knows the whole history of the three of us, and I suspect he had the foresight to guess exactly how unsettled the situation was. He said he’d already filed the proper papers and had explained the situation to Judge Bunker, but he advised me that even though I wanted to withdraw the papers just then, maybe I ought to wait until ... well, just wait and see. He said nothing would be acted upon without both of our signatures and an appearance before the judge, so we—”
Just then Dan was clutched by a spell of coughing that doubled him over. When he reclined against the pillows once more, he was winded. During the pause, Laura’s mind reeled wit
h questions, but finally Dan went on.
“The papers are still there, Laura, up at the town building, in probate court.”
Their eyes met, and unconsciously she counted the months until spring.
Dan’s voice grew even more raspy as he went on. “Even my own mother realizes I’ve held you against your wishes ever since Rye’s return.”
There was no soothing response Laura could offer. She remembered very clearly the things Hilda Morgan had said.
“And do you know what else she told me?”
Laura only stared at Dan, not moving a muscle.
“She told me you and Rye had given me back my life and that it was time I gave you back yours. ”
A poignant silence fell. A sense of impending ache settled between them. Faraway, a bell tolled as evening came on, and in the candlelit room all was silent but for his words hovering between them. “Christmas being the season of giving, I thought it might be the appropriate time to ... give you what I know you want most, Laura—your freedom.”
Laura felt a lump gathering in her throat. She swallowed, but the emotion could not be gulped away. No matter how badly she’d wanted her freedom, she’d never expected this overwhelming sense of loss at getting it.
Sensibly, Dan hurried on. “As I said, the papers are still there, and the circumstances being what they are, Judge Bunker would never deny the dissolution of this marriage. He’s known us all our lives, too.” Dan cleared his throat, continuing with an assumed dispassion. “Anyway, my mother said she’d welcome having a man around the house again to cook and do for, so as soon as I’m well enough, I’ll be moving back there ... until things can be properly settled in court.”
Laura was speechless. What could she possibly reply? Thank you? The noble gesture was painful enough for Dan without adding the insult of a gratuitous response. Then suddenly Laura felt as bereft as she knew Dan must be. The tears she had been trying to hold back became a deluge. Without warning, she was overcome and dropped her face into both palms while sobs jerked her shoulders. Though she’d neither planned nor anticipated this reaction, there could have been no more fitting response to Dan’s words. The end of five married years that had been basically harmonious and loving deserved this moment of mourning.
She sat on the edge of the bed, crying softly for several minutes, and when the tears stopped, somehow Dan was holding her hand. With a gentle tug, he pulled her sideways until she fell into the shelter of his arm with her head tucked beneath his chin. There were no more words. But as they lay in silence, their unspoken thoughts became the requiem for all they’d shared, not only during the past five years, but for nearly two decades before that.
***
When Rye and Josh returned, Rye immediately noted the constrained atmosphere. He could see at a glance that Laura had been crying, and for a moment felt the clutch of dread weight his stomach. Josh scampered straight across the room to Dan, bubbling with excitement over his first skating lesson. Rye attempted to catch Laura’s eye, but she assiduously avoided glancing his way, so with a worried scowl, Rye prepared to leave.
Dan’s words stopped him at the door.
“Rye, I have a favor to ask.”
The tall man turned back into the room. “Of course, anything.”
“I hate to ask after all you’ve done already, but Laura goes out to Jane’s every year a few days before Christmas to take her some bayberry candles and things and have a visit before the holidays. And I ...” Dan raised his palms helplessly. “Well, of course I won’t be able to take them this year, so I was wondering if you’d mind driving her and Josh out there one day soon.”
Rye’s glance swerved to Laura, but she was studying Dan with an expression warning she was having difficulty keeping from breaking into tears again. “Of course,” Rye answered. “I’ll rent a cutter and be here whenever Laura says.”
At his words, Laura could no longer avoid meeting Rye’s eyes. She thought that if this day didn’t end soon, her heart would certainly crumble. It had been flooded with emotion so many times already, this seemed the final stroke that might shatter it. She wanted to cry out, Dan, don’t be so damnably noble! Instead, she could only suffer an overwhelming sense of injustice for him and answer Rye. “Any day ... whenever you can find the time.”
“Tomorrow, then, at midafternoon?”
“We’ll be ready.”
***
The following day at the appointed time, Rye came to collect Josh and Laura in a sleek black cutter pulled by a gray and white piebald mare. With warmed bricks at their feet and a heavy sealskin fur across their laps, the three set out across the snow-covered moors. The breath of the horse billowed and formed a cloud that appeared the same color as both land and sky. The jingle of harness rang out with the clarity of a glockenspiel in the cold, cold air. As the runners of the vehicle sliced through the dry snow, they squeaked out an unending syllable and left behind a pair of tracks with hoofprints between.
There was room on the black leather seat for no more than two, thus Josh sat on his mother’s lap, with both of his knees bumping Rye’s left thigh. Josh did more talking than either his mother or father, and when he asked if he could hold the reins, Rye laughingly complied, settling the boy between his legs and placing the lines in Josh’s smaller hands. The horse sensed the difference and turned a blinder sideways, then headed straight again, her trot never wavering as Rye kept a watchful eye.
With Josh seated between his spraddled thighs, Rye’s warm leg now rested firmly against Laura’s. The contact was thrilling, though neither turned or looked at the other.
When they reached Jane’s house, Josh immediately scrambled from under the laprobe. But when Rye began shifting, Laura placed a hand on his forearm. “Josh, you run in and tell Aunt Jane we’re here. Rye and I have to talk for a minute.” Then Rye suspended Josh over the side of the rig by one arm and lowered him till his feet touched the ground.
When they were alone, Rye and Laura looked at each other fully for the first time.
“Hello,” he murmured.
“Hello.” Will I ever grow tired of looking into his pale blue eyes? she thought. Never ... never.
“You were very sad yesterday.”
“Yes, I was.”
“Can y’ tell me why?”
Against her thigh, his was pressed, warm, secure.
“I told Dan that I’d be leaving with you in the spring, and he told me that he was giving me a Christmas gift.” She paused, knowing he had guessed what it was. “He told me he is giving me my freedom. Mine and Josh’s.”
The wisps of whitened breath ceased falling from Rye’s nostrils for a long, long moment. Then he breathed again, a huge sigh. “When?”
“He will be going to live at his mother’s house as soon as he’s well enough to make the move. As for legalities, he spoke to Ezra Merrill last September and filed divorce papers then. Right after he found the busk.”
Rye slowly turned to face forward, his sober expression anything but victorious. Laura laid her mittened hand on his forearm. The reins remained laced through the fingers of his leather gloves, but he seemed unconscious of the fact. “He sent us out here today so we’d have a chance to tell Josh— both of us, together.”
Rye said nothing. He seemed to be staring at a point beyond the horse’s head, then he sighed again and dropped his chin, and sat for a long moment, lost in thought. The horse shook her head and made the harness jingle, and it seemed to drag Rye from his reverie. “Why don’t I feel like celebratin’?” he asked quietly.
She only squeezed his arm, for they both knew the answer to his question.
The visit to Jane’s passed in a haze of distraction, for Laura’s thoughts were on their ride home. When the three were again settled in the cutter, she felt apprehensive. Josh’s acceptance was vital, and as she studied the back of his head, wrapped in a thick knit cap and a scarf whose fringes shimmied in rhythm to the hoofbeats, Laura closed her eyes, hoping.
“Joshua, Rye an
d I have something to tell you.”
Josh, with his ripe-apple cheeks and wind-reddened nose, turned to look up at her. Beneath the fur, Rye’s leg flanked hers in firm support. “Rye and I... well, we ... we love each other very much, dear, and we never wanted to ... to...”
When she faltered, Rye took over. “I’m goin’t’ marry your mother, come spring, and the three of us’ll be goin’t’ the Michigan Territory together, along with my father.”
For a moment Josh’s face reflected his lack of comprehension. But when understanding dawned, it brought no smile. “Is Papa cornin’ too?”
“No, Dan will stay here.”
“Then I ain’t goin’!” Josh declared stubbornly.
Laura’s gaze skittered to Rye, then back to her son. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, Josh, but Rye is your real father, and when I marry him you’ll be our son. You’ll have to live where we do.”
“No, I don’t want him to be my papa!” Josh stuck his lower lip out belligerently, and it began to tremble. “I wanna have the one I always had and live in our same house!”
Despair weighted Laura. “But wouldn’t you like to go off on an adventure to the Michigan Territory, where you’ve never been before?”
“Is it far away?”
Laura was afraid to tell the truth, but knew a lie would only make matters worse, eventually. “Yes, it is.”
“Do we have to take the ferry to get there?”
Oh, much more than the ferry, Josh, she thought, but answered only, “Yes.”
“But then how could I see Jimmy?”
“Well ... you wouldn’t see him, but you’d make new friends where we lived.”
“I don’t want new friends. I wanna stay here with Jimmy and Papa and you.” The belligerence had disappeared from Josh’s face, and the tears he’d been valiantly trying to control whispered over his golden lashes and down his red cheeks.
Laura pulled him back against her and tucked his head beneath her chin. Holding Josh, she wondered how to make him understand, but suddenly she realized something Rye had said. She turned to look up at him.