“That’s right.” The rims of the man’s eyes reddened. “He’s an old dog. Won’t survive to see his boy again.”

  I hadn’t cried when Mama died, even though the grief was a thousand sharp knives to my chest. I’d had too much to do, too many worries over how to live rather than mourn the dead. During the last few trying days, as tired and worried as I was, I hadn’t cried. The closest I’d come was when the woman in town had told me the truth about my mother’s secret life. However, the thought of that poor dog waiting for his master did me in. Tears blurred my vision.

  “Ah, now, lass, don’t cry.”

  “The poor dog.” I swiped tears from my cheeks. The air was so cold I was surprised they hadn’t become a layer of ice on my skin.

  He reached out as if to comfort me but pulled back his hand and shoved it into his coat pocket. “To love someone as much as they love each other is a great gift. Even when parted, the love remains.”

  I squinted up at him. The winter sun hurt my tired eyes. Was that true? Was some part of Mama still here with me? “He didn’t expect to go, did he? Or he wouldn’t have promised to bring food.”

  “That’s correct.” He smiled. “Wesley’s the type to keep his promises if he can.”

  “Wesley?” Wesley. A gentleman’s name. Even so, Wesley had understood when I’d told him of my plight. He’d wanted to help. Was it because he knew what it was like to be in a home where you had to have one eye open all the time? Or was it neglect?

  “He was sorry he couldn’t come himself. Before he left, I told him I’d look after you.”

  “But why?”

  “Wesley and his sister are like our children,” Dax said. “We’d do anything for them.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. God had answered my prayers. “I’m grateful. I just gave the baby the last of the milk.” His eyes were so kind and sympathetic that I felt comfortable enough to share the truth of my troubles. “I didn’t know what I was going to do. Pa . . .” I trailed off, unable to bring myself to say what must be obvious.

  “Wesley said as much.” Dax shuffled his feet in the dry leaves. “Have you thought about telling someone what’s happening out here?”

  I looked away. A squirrel scampered up a tree and onto a branch. Several pine cones fell to the ground. “I can’t. I’m afraid someone will come and take the baby from me. As long as they think Pa’s looking after us, no one will get an idea to take her. People want babies, I expect. Not a girl like me. We’re in trouble here, but we have to stay together. I promised my mama.” All that spilled from my mouth like snow from the sky during a blizzard.

  “I see.” Dax rubbed his chin with his gloved fingers. “Where’s your pa?” His gaze traveled to the house. “Will he harm the baby? Or you?”

  “He’s in there. Asleep. Drunk.” I spit the words out like they tasted bad. “He won’t have anything to do with the baby. Mostly, he stays away from us. If he has money to go into town to the bar, that is.” I looked down at my numb fingers. “Are Wesley’s parents like my pa? Is that why you and Mollie had to raise them?”

  “They’re not like your pa, exactly. But his father—he’s a hard man—a cruel one. Life hasn’t been easy for Wesley. Anyway, that’s not my business to tell. I’ve said too much.”

  He didn’t have to say the words. I knew what he meant. The realization stunned me. Even rich people had troubles.

  “Tell me, what are your plans to get through the winter?” Dax’s gaze now roamed the flat brown yard.

  “My biggest trouble is the milk. I have to have it for Sadie, and I have no money to buy it with. I made the sourdough bread. From the starter. I had a little money to buy flour and lard, but it’s almost gone.”

  “During the winter, I’ll bring milk for the wee one and flour and cheese and whatever else I can spare for you. But, lass, becoming self-reliant will set you free. A garden is a poor man’s savior. Come spring, I’ll teach you how to grow vegetables. Potatoes, onions, and carrots you can store for winter. I’ve seeds to get you started. Again, in the spring, I can repair that chicken coop and bring over a few chicks. That way you’ll have eggs before long.”

  “Why would you do all this for me?” My dull mind couldn’t keep up with all that he was saying.

  “A man who turns away from his neighbor isn’t one I’d like to know.”

  “Even a neighbor like me?” The daughter of a whore and a drunk?

  “In God’s eyes, we’re all the same.” The corners of Dax’s eyes creased as he smiled. “I have to get back before anyone notices I’m gone. I’ll be back in the next few days. There’s a gallon of milk in the box, a loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, and enough beef stew to eat for a few days. My Mollie made it herself.”

  My mouth watered. “Thank you.” I’d have to hide the box somewhere Pa wouldn’t find it.

  “This afternoon, bring in more firewood than you think you’ll need for the next few days. There’s a snowstorm coming.”

  “There is?” I looked up at the blue sky.

  “I can feel it in my left big toe. Always aches before a storm.”

  “Yes, sir, I can do that.”

  “You stay safe now,” Dax said. “I’ll come tomorrow if the weather allows. Otherwise, I’ll come after the blizzard rolls through.”

  I thanked him again as I picked up the wooden box. He took the basket Wesley had left and turned to go. I watched him as he traipsed over the frozen ground and disappeared into the woods.

  For the second time that day, I cried. Only this time it was from pure relief.

  9

  Wesley

  * * *

  Upon my arrival at school, the headmaster, Mr. Kane, welcomed me into his office. One of the staff had picked me up at the station, an older man who introduced himself as Buddy and explained that he was the handyman and chauffer at the school. After that, the ride to school had been silent. Despite my homesickness, the sight of the large brick building had excited me. Possibilities waited for me. Maybe even a friend.

  A roaring fire blazed, warming my face as I sat across from Mr. Kane. The headmaster was middle-aged, somewhere between thirty-five and forty-five, I guessed, with sandy-colored hair sprinkled with white. Kind eyes peered at me through wire-rimmed glasses. The office was long and skinny, with dark walls and an enormous walnut desk. Rows and rows of books lined the shelves. The faint scent of pipe tobacco lingered in the air.

  “Wesley, your mother wrote that your enrollment here was somewhat of a surprise to you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Last week I’d been running through the woods with Atlas, saving damsels in distress.

  “The first time away from home can be lonely. I’ve asked one of the boys, Roland Harris, to look after you these first few weeks. He’s one of our finest boys, with a heart of gold and a quick mind. He came to us in the fall, so he understands what it’s like to be new. I’ve arranged for you to share a room with him.”

  “Yes, sir.” What would it be like to spend time with a boy my age? Would I be strange to him?

  Mr. Kane continued, telling me about the school uniform waiting for me in my room and other details about my classes. “We’re only one day into the new term, so you won’t be behind. My understanding is that you’ve been taught at home by your mother and an occasional tutor?”

  “That’s correct. We had a tutor for math, mostly.”

  “What’s your favorite area of study?”

  “English. I love reading.”

  “What else do you like to do?” He leaned forward slightly, as if genuinely interested.

  “I like to build things with wood. That’s not really an area of study, I guess.” I looked at my hands. My ears burned with embarrassment. I must sound like a simpleton.

  “We have a woodshop class and a workshop here on campus, which you may use during your free time. I encourage all the boys to develop practical skills in addition to academics. As a matter of fact, as luck would have it, Roland is also interested in woodwork. You’ll have that in common.”

  A knock on the door drew his gaze from me. “Come in,” Mr. Kane said.

  I turned to see a scrawny boy with large blue eyes and freckles sprinkled over his nose. He held up his hand in greeting, then hustled across the room to stand in front of the desk. His hair was combed back, but several tufts had escaped and fell over his forehead.

  “Roland, this is Wesley Ford.” Mr. Kane stood, so I did as well.

  Roland stuck out his hand and grinned at me. “Nice to meet you.” He wore blue trousers and a white shirt paired with a red tie. The uniform.

  “You too.” My ears continued to burn.

  “I’ll have Roland take you to your room. You can get acquainted before our evening meal. Dinner’s always at six. Lights out at ten.”

  “Breakfast at seven.” Roland had a slow way of speaking, drawing out vowels to make them sound like two syllables. “Then we have class until three.”

  “Exercise in the late afternoon,” Mr. Kane said. “We have several sports you can participate in, including cross-country running, which your mother said you have aptitude for.”

  I bit back a smile, not wanting to seem too eager in front of Roland. “Running is a sport?”

  “Yes, indeed it is,” Mr. Kane said. “We have paths through the woods.” He gestured toward the windows behind him.

  “I’ll show you tomorrow,” Roland said. “If you don’t mind running in the rain.”

  “As long as I can run, I don’t care what’s falling from the sky.” My spirits lifted. So far, this new life here at school seemed much better than the one at home. I wouldn’t have to hear my parents fighting or endure Father’s strap. Roland could be a friend. They had a woodworking shop and running paths through the woods. But no Atlas. I put that aside. Be present in the immediate.

  “I hung both sets of your uniform in the wardrobe in your room, plus your exercise clothes.” Roland’s gaze moved to my suitcase. “I hope you didn’t bring much, because there’s not much space. The uniforms aren’t too bad, except for the tie. Chokes a fellow if you’re not careful.”

  “Not much, no,” I said.

  “Off you go,” Mr. Kane said, giving us a gentle smile. “I’ve work to do.”

  “Yes, sir,” we said at the same time.

  I nodded at Mr. Kane, then picked up my suitcase and followed Roland out of the room. We walked down a wooden hallway past empty classrooms. “That’s where we have school, obviously.” He pointed to a double door. “There’s the dining hall. They keep the doors closed until it’s mealtime.” I caught a whiff of food that smelled like beef gravy, and my stomach growled. I’d been too upset to eat my lunch and had mistakenly left it under the seat on the train. I thought of Mollie, how she’d made it with love just this morning. That seemed like a thousand years ago now.

  A wave of homesickness cramped my stomach. Don’t think of it, I told myself. This is your new life.

  We climbed a flight of stairs. Doors about a dozen feet apart lined both sides of a long hallway. “This is where we all sleep. I’ve been the only one without a roommate. I’m awfully glad you’re here.” We walked all the way to the end before he stopped and pulled a key from his pocket. “I always lock up since some of the others like to prank. I don’t take kindly to anyone messing with my things. There’s a key for you too.” He opened the door, and I followed him into a small room with two tall twin beds that looked as if they were built on stilts. Each had a desk underneath with identical stacks of books. “I got your books today so you’d be ready for tomorrow.”

  We each had a skinny wardrobe at the foot of the beds. “You can put your things in there,” Roland said. “They give us each half a dozen hangers.”

  As I unpacked, he told me a little about himself. He was from North Carolina and the oldest of five. “I have four younger sisters. They’re a lot of trouble.” His warm tone belied his words. “Do you have siblings?”

  “I have one sister. Lillian. She’s two years younger.”

  “Will you miss her?” Roland plopped onto his bed and tucked his arms behind his head. “Because I miss mine, even though it’s a lot quieter now.”

  “I will.” How much I wouldn’t say. I didn’t want to look like a baby. I tugged off my shirt to put on the school uniform.

  Roland gasped. “What happened to your back?”

  I’d forgotten the red marks would still be there. Over the years, there had been so many I didn’t think about it much. They eventually faded. “That’s from my father.”

  “He whips you?” Roland sounded flabbergasted by the idea.

  “Only me. Not my sister.” Thank God. If he had ever laid a hand on her, I don’t know what I would have done.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Sure. I’m used to it. And now I’m here, so he can’t hurt me.” I tugged the uniform shirt over my head.

  “My parents would never strike us, even if we’d done something bad.”

  I sat on the edge of my bed. No wonder he was positive and grateful. He had a loving family.

  “What did you do to get those?” Roland asked.

  “I took a basket of food to a poor family in the woods.” I explained to him about Luci and the baby and how Atlas had found them. “Atlas can sniff trouble or when someone needs help. He led me right there.”

  “Why’d he beat you for that? Being charitable is in the Bible. The Good Samaritan and everything.”

  I shrugged. “He likes punishing me. It makes him happy, I think.” Saying the words I’d never said to anyone was a relief. Speaking the truth lessened the sting.

  “What about your mother?”

  “She has to go along with whatever he wants. We all do.”

  “I’d say it’s good you’re here.”

  “That’s what my mother thought. They’re sending Lillian away too. If I can help it, I’m only going back for holidays. Do they have summer term here?”

  “No, but some boys stay if they don’t have anyone to go home to. They do summer work, like polishing floors and working outside. I plan to stay for most of the summer to earn some money.”

  “Then I will too. If they don’t call me home, which I don’t think they will.”

  “You can come home with me,” Roland said. “My family’s door is always open.” His forehead wrinkled. “But what about the girl and the baby? Will they be all right?”

  I told him about Dax and Mollie. “He promised to take care of them for me.”

  His face relaxed. “Good. If it were one of my sisters, I’d hope there was someone good like you out there looking after them.”

  That night, we lay in our twin beds. Although we still had thirty minutes before lights out, we’d blown out the lamp and gotten into bed. The room was drafty and cold, but I was warm under the quilt. Rain pattered against our one small window in a comforting rhythm. Dinner in the dining hall had been loud and chaotic. Yet, I’d enjoyed myself. Eating in peace with no fear of Father’s sudden temper or Mother’s withering look of disappointment at my mere existence had made for a relaxing meal.

  The other boys at our table had been friendly for the most part and curious about me. Most of them had been together for a couple of years, having all started together at thirteen. Roland and I were the outliers.

  “How you doing?” Roland asked from the dark. “I remember the first night I had this ache in my stomach,” Roland said. “I wanted to cry my eyes out, but it goes away after a few days.”

  “I miss my dog and my sister.” I scrunched my eyes closed, hoping to stop myself from crying. The image of Atlas on the road flashed before me. Please forgive me, boy. I didn’t want to leave you. “But besides that, no.”

  “When I first came here, I couldn’t sleep because it was so quiet. When I’d go to bed at home, I could hear all my sisters giggling and talking in the other room. I never thought I’d miss them so much. At the time, I just wished they’d be quiet so I could sleep.”

  “Why’d you come here?”

  “That’s just pure luck, if you want to know the dang truth. My folks don’t have much and could never afford a place like this. You won’t believe it, but someone paid for me to come here. We don’t know who.”

  “A benefactor?”

  “Sure thing. Can you believe how lucky I am? My mama says I was born that way. Good things always happen to me.”

  I had the feeling that Roland was the type to make his own luck. Being around him was like having sun on your shoulders. Roland Harris would teach me a thing or two about how to be grateful.

  “Do you like it here?” I asked.

  Roland’s chuckle reminded me of corn popping. “Sure. What’s not to love? Books, sports, all the food you can eat. Did Mr. Kane tell you about the wood room? You can build anything you want in there. Someday I want to build my own house.”

  I smiled in the darkness. “I think about that sometimes too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. One time I went to this place by the ocean, and I thought I’d like to build a cottage that looked out over the water. I thought how peaceful it would be. I’d stay there forever and never have to go back home.”

  “We’ll do it one day,” Roland said. “We can build cottages a short distance apart. Once they’re built, we’ll find wives and bring them home with us. They’ll be best friends, and we’ll be best friends. We’ll all sit on our porches and watch the waves roll in.”

  I thought of Luci. Her small, pale face and those giant eyes that portrayed fear and courage at the same time. Keep her safe, I prayed silently. Until I can come back for her.

  “You can marry my sister,” I said. “Then everything would be just right.”

  Roland laughed quietly. “I should probably meet her first.”

  “You will. Someday.” Tomorrow I would write to her and tell her about Roland. Not too soon to plant the seed. I smiled and rolled onto my side to face the wall. “Night, Roland.”

  “Night, Wes.”

  Wes. No one had ever called me that. Wes was a fresh start. Someone new without the burdens of the past. I would become a man here. I’d emerge triumphant, no longer a frightened, whipped boy. With that thought, I fell asleep.