Rose(130)

“If I could just be sure of that.”

He was listening. If she could only get him to believe.

She took down a pan and poured some water into it.

“Is there anything Zac could do that would make you turn your back on him?”

“Of course not,” George answered from inside the pantry. “He’s a scamp, and I doubt he can tell the difference between what’s wrong and what he wants to do—I’m not sure he cares that there is a difference—but there’s a lot of good in him.”

“Did you hear what you just said?” Rose asked as he emerged with a basket of potatoes. “If Zac can’t destroy your affection for him, then you couldn’t have destroyed your father’s affection.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Can’t you?” she asked, taking the potatoes from him.

“I don’t know.”

“You interpret everything you do in the worst possible light. Let me tell you what I see. Let me be your eyes and conscience.” She rinsed a large potato in a pan of water and started to peel it.

“I can’t do that,” George said. “My mother loved my father so much she was blind to his faults. I could never be sure you wouldn’t do the same. I’ve got to know I can look at myself and be proud of what I’ve done. I want your approval, but I’ve got to have my own as well.”

Rose paused, knife still in the potato, the peel dangling into the water. “Okay, look at yourself all you want, but you’ve got to see what’s there, not a bunch of ghosts from your imagination.”

“You can be a fierce little tiger when you want,” George said, a smile finally lightening the solemnity of his expression.

She sliced off the peel and started a new cut. “We’re talking about my happiness as well as yours. I don’t mean to let a dead man take it from me.”

George’s smile grew even broader. Coming up behind her, he put his hands around her waist. “You’d make a good mother. You’d make your children proud of themselves whether they wanted to be or not.”

“And you’d make just as good a father,” Rose said, forgetting her potato for the moment. “They’d love being your children.”

“I’ll think about what you said, all but the last part,” George said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m very glad I married you. I wish Ma could have had some of your strength. It would have been better for all of us. She failed us all, even Pa.” He turned Rose around until she faced him. Neither one of them were conscious of the potato or the knife. “That’s part of why I love you. You’re strong enough for both of us. You won’t let me give in. You fight for what you think is right. Don’t ever change. I depend on you.”

“I won’t if you promise to believe in yourself only half as much as everybody else does.”

George kissed her upturned lips. “I promise to try. Now I’d better go check on the boys and make sure they haven’t killed each other.”

Rose would have liked some more positive proof of his happiness, but she was enormously relieved to have finally made some progress. She dipped her now-dry potato in the water and started peeling once more.

“Don’t forget to set a fire under the wash pot before you go. I’m fixing a turkey for Monty. It’s nice to know I don’t have to cook another one for at least two months. I’m sure the turkeys will appreciate the break, too.”





Rose felt she had hardly laid her head on the pillow before it was time to get up again. The boys wanted to leave on the drive before dawn. Tyler had talked them into letting him cook. She didn’t know why since they all hated his cooking, but the boy seemed to feel he was a natural-born cook, and he was impervious to opinions to the contrary.

She packed enough food to last three days.

The day passed quietly. George and Salty were building a shed for the bull. They probably could have gotten their work done twice as fast without Zac underfoot, but there was no way he would stay in the house with Rose when he could be with his brother.

She sat under the shade of the oak next to the well, rocking and drinking some persimmon tea. She watched Zac helping George with everything he did, slowing him down, but never exhausting his patience. George answered all Zac’s questions, making the boy feel like an equal part in what they were doing.

Without warning, she envisioned George performing the same tasks with his son, their son, and her eyes filled with tears. She had to find a way to convince him to have children. And not just because the thought of remaining childless made her infinitely sad.