Jo sat in silence on the ride home. Lucy and James must have sensed the tension in her, because they left her alone and spoke of the surrounding farms and how they’d held up after the storm.
The sun was low in the sky when Lucy dropped Jo in front of the porch. Ruby stood at the kitchen table, cutting carrots for their supper. Jo dumped her parcels on the counter and spun to face Ruby.
“I know what you did, Ruby.” Jo crossed her arms over her chest.
Ruby continued to chop. “What do you mean?”
“The letter.”
Ruby pushed the chopped carrots aside and swiftly peeled the potatoes. The peelings flew to the ground at their feet. “What letter?”
“Don’t lie to me. You’d be throwing a fit right now if I’d gone into your personal items and read your journal.”
“You read my journal!” Ruby slammed the peeler down.
Jo’s heart raced in her chest. She didn’t want to have this confrontation, but she couldn’t be a part of this household if she wasn’t respected.
“No.”
They stared, assessing each other.
Jo inhaled deeply through her nose. “Did you tell your father what was in the letter?”
“No.” Ruby snatched up the knife and roughly chopped the potatoes, throwing them piece by piece into the pot of water. The flames under the pot sizzled as water splashed out.
“Don’t touch my things.”
“I didn’t.”
“You just admitted you did!”
“No, I didn’t!” Ruby spun, the knife in her hand, the sharp blade gleaming off the last rays of sun through the window.
“What’s going on?” Jack’s voice thundered into the room. It must have been a sight: the pot boiling over, Ruby pointing the knife at Jo, and both of them red-faced, screaming.
“Jo accused me of reading her letter, but I didn’t.”
“You did read my letter!”
“I didn’t!”
“Stop!” Jack yelled again.
“No!” Jo screamed back. “Your daughter read my private letter and now she’s lying about it.”
“Did you read her letter?” Jack asked calmly.
“No,” Ruby said, jutting her chin out.
“She’s lying,” Jo said, furious.
“If Ruby said she didn’t, I believe her.”
“Then you’re blind,” Jo muttered.
“Excuse me?” Jack stepped in front of Ruby, the smell of dirt and sweat wafting under Jo’s nose.
“You’re blind, Jack. You don’t know your own family.” And then everything Jo had been holding back came tumbling out. “Tommy’s so desperate for a mother he latched onto the first person who walked into this house. He crawls into bed with me at night, but scurries back to his room before dawn, scared you’ll be angry at him for getting attached to me. And your daughter is lost. She needs someone to guide her into womanhood and give her confidence. She just lied to you. And she wants to marry a man who may not love her, and you’re going to let her. Is this what you want for your children? For your daughter to be miserable and Tommy to grow up desperate for affection, never knowing his father loved him because you’re too damn scared to show any kind of affection?”
Ruby was whimpering at the table, and Jo immediately regretted what she’d said. She wasn’t even sure what she had said. It flowed out of her in one big, angry surge.
“Leave.” Jack’s eyes pierced Jo.
“But—” Jo’s mouth opened, but Jack’s eyes were ice cold. “You can sleep in the barn until I figure out what to do.”
There was no time for Jo to argue. Jack put his arm around Ruby and swept them out of the house.
For the next week, Jo slept in the barn. Every morning she got up hours before the house woke and cooked them breakfast. Then she went back to the barn and did her chores: grooming, feeding, and watering the horses, cleaning the saddles, milking the cows, sweeping out the stalls. Then she took a walk to the creek and stayed there for most of the day. She’d broken the cardinal rule and pitted father against daughter.
Ruby had read Jo’s letter and lied about it, but Jo had done worse. She’d accused Jack of being a bad father and, even if James didn’t love Ruby, it wasn’t Jo’s place to say anything. Shame blanketed her, and she lay down on the soft moss next to the creek bed and slept to escape the quicksand thoughts that wanted to pull her under.
As she drifted off, the slippery thoughts took her to the places she hated the most—her parents’ death, her brother’s dismissal, the night with Jack behind the barn, and the awful things she’d said in the kitchen. Down and down she fell into the rabbit hole.
Laughter drifted above her. Jo thought it was a dream until she felt pudgy fingers on her cheek. She opened her eyes and saw the smiling face of Tommy above her.
“Hi, Tommy.” Jo sat up, groggy. It was dusk. She’d slept most of the day.
“Where have you been?” He frowned and crawled into her lap. She missed his warm body. “I want to go swimming in the pond again, but Father’s too busy being angry at Ruby.”
“I’ve been sleeping with the animals in the barn. They were lonely,” Jo said, snuggling him closer to her.
Tommy’s eyes widened in wonderment. “I want to sleep with the animals.”
Jo spread her skirt out. “Lie here and we’ll pretend to sleep. The animals can come to us.”
Tommy giggled, and Jo wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “What animals do you hear?”
His face squished in concentration. There was a rustling in the brush and his eyes grew large. Then a bird chirped high in the tree and he looked up into the canopy.
“A chipmunk and a blue jay,” he announced. Then he lay his head down, and Jo rested hers on the mossy ground and sang an old lullaby her mother used to sing to her. Soon sleep took hold of her again.
Fingers dug into her arm, and Jo’s eyes flew open. Jack’s face was above her. His features were a kaleidoscope of emotion, switching from panic, to anger, to relief, and back to panic.
“Jo, wake up. Jo!”
The world was black, and it took a minute for her eyes to capture enough light to see beyond Jack’s face. It was dark and she still lay near the creek, the bubbling a calming contrast to Jack’s frenzied state.
“Where’s Tommy?” He shook her arms.
“He was here.” Jo tried to get her bearings. “Earlier. We must have fallen asleep.”
“When?” Jack ran his hand over his face in worry.
“Around dusk, I think. He came looking for me and wanted to sleep with the animals. We were just playing, but I must have fallen asleep.” Suddenly Jo sat up, the situation coming into focus. “What time is it?”
“It’s after midnight.”
“Midnight!” Jo jumped to her feet. “And you can’t find Tommy?”
Jack shook his head. That’s when Jo noticed the dark circles around his eyes. Anxiety hung heavy in his features.
“We’ll find him,” Jo assured him. “Where have you searched?”
“The house, barn, fields. Ruby went to our neighbors’ houses to see if he went there.” Jack paced in the darkness.
“Jack, stop. Look at me.” Jo gripped his forearm. He stopped, but his eyes skittered about. She placed a hand on both sides of his face until he had no place to look except at her. “Take a deep breath.” He scowled but did at she instructed. “Again.”
His chin quivered, and he slapped her arms down. “I’m fine.”
Jack fought old and new pains, his face twisted in agony against them both, trying to hold it together.
“He wanted to know where I’d been. I told him I’d been sleeping in the barn. Are you sure you checked it thoroughly?” Jo asked.
Jack ran out of the woods and toward the house before she finished. In the barn, they both screamed his name. They lifted bails and blankets and checked every corner, but there was no Tommy.
Then Jo remembered. “The pond! Tommy said he wanted to go swimming in the pond!”
Their feet flew over the pasture and down the hill as they raced toward the pond. The world around Jo slowed. The sounds of the night came at her through a muffled tunnel, and though her blood raced through her veins, her thoughts were molasses, unable to comprehend the horror they may find.
And then everything stopped. Jack’s voice screamed in terror.
On the sandy bank of the pond, Tommy’s small body lay facedown. Jack got to him first and flipped him on his back. Sand covered his face, and Jo fell to her knees and brushed the sand off violently.
“Tommy!” she shouted. Or was it Jack screaming?
The little face under her hands stirred, and Tommy blinked his eyes open. “Momma,” he said.
“Tommy!” Jack snatched him into his arms.
“Ow. Papa, stop it. You’re hurting me.”
Tears ran down Jack’s face, but he smiled in relief. Then he pushed Tommy from his body and scanned him from head to toe. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I was just saying goodnight to the fishies.”
Jack pulled Tommy into his arms again and Jo couldn’t hold back. She fell forward and wrapped her arms around them both. Jack pressed her to them, and silent tears ran down her cheeks.
“Um, Jo.” Tommy’s little voice rose up between them. “Daddy. I can’t breathe.”
Jo and Jack laughed and released Tommy. Jack wiped his tears with the back of his hand and then swiped his thumb across her cheeks, wiping her tears away. It was a simple gesture, but it left Jo empty when his hands left her face.
Jack gathered Tommy into his arms and carried him back to the house. Their backs disappeared over the hill, and Jo watched them from the bank where she still sat on her knees. One word rang in her mind, Momma.
An hour later, Tommy and Ruby were asleep in their beds. After kissing them both goodnight, Jo sat at the edge of her mattress, raw. How could one word affect her so much? But it did.
“Jo?” Jack was in the doorway. Her belly rolled at the sound of his voice. He looked awful. And beautiful. His eyes were red-rimmed and the lids drooped from exhaustion. She fought the urge to wrap her arms around him and hold him. “This came for you.”
He dropped the letter on the bed and abruptly left.
A shaky breath rattled her lungs as he walked away. The spankings had been humiliating, but indifference was a worse punishment.
Jo ripped the letter open.
Sister,
Your congratulations are appreciated. We’re awaiting the baby with great anticipation. If it’s a boy I will name him George Alexander III, keeping with our family tradition. We have no names yet for a girl. But we’ll probably pick something from Gloria’s family if it is.
I was unaware that Gloria wrote to you, but we would be happy for you to come and nurse the baby once it has arrived. We’ve turned your old room into the nursery, but we could put a bed in there for you, since you will be its main caretaker. Gloria has not been pleased with our lack of servants. And we could certainly do with your fine cooking.
The baby is expected in late February. Please advise me of when you shall arrive back in the city so we can make the proper arrangements.
Looking forward to your reply.
G
By the end of the letter, Jo’s eyes had blurred from tears. She balled it into her fist and threw it across the floor. It hit the doorframe and ricocheted into the hallway toward the kitchen. Her brother didn’t want her back. He only wanted free help. And Jo knew of a girl’s name they could use—Josephine. Or her mother’s, Isabella.
She smashed her pillow into her face and screamed.
Then she sobbed, and the quicksand thoughts took her back under. Her brother had never loved her. How can a brother not love his sister? Jealousy she understood. But this was more than that. And then her thoughts slid sideways into the recent past with Jack: his mouth on hers, her hands on him, his slaps, and then his indifference. She was sucked further down and ended up at her father’s bedside as he took his last breath and his body turned cold in her arms. She was barely breathing by the time she circled back to Tommy.
Momma. It was more than a name, it was an expectation. And Jo wanted to live up to it. But Jack and Ruby didn’t want her there. And if she stayed any longer, it would cause irreparable damage to Tommy.
And so her decision was made, even though it broke her heart. It was time to leave. But she would go on her terms. She’d bide her time and when the opportunity presented itself, she’d exit this chapter of her life.