Spindle(5)

Go home came a whisper drawn out on the wind. Go home.

Briar cocked her head. “Hear that?” She brushed a hair back that had fallen out of her Newport knot.

“Is hearing voices an Irish thing, too?” he teased.

With determination, Briar returned her attention to the road. “Not everything I say is an Irish thing. Besides, what do you know, Henry? You’ve never left the valley. You don’t know what’s out there.”

He laughed like she’d told the funniest joke. “Sure, I know what’s out there. Another place, just like this one. And another. And another. If you can’t be satisfied here, you won’t be satisfied anywhere else, sweet Briarly Rose Jenny.”

“Don’t call me that,” said Briar. “I wish I’d never told you my proper name.”

“I like to say it,” replied Henry. “You should go by Rose, a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Briar snorted. “Don’t feel pretty today,” she muttered, watching Wheeler and his girl stand at the top of the lane and search for the forest path that Briar could find in her sleep. She definitely felt more briarly today.

For once, Henry was silent. Briar looked at him. He tilted his head as he examined her, his mop of sandy hair falling over his hazel eyes, but he didn’t blink those long lashes of his. She put her hands on her hips. “Stop that right now, Henry Prince. I don’t need your pity.”

“Not pity. Curiosity. I was wondering what it would take to make you see what’s right in front of you.”

Briar rolled her eyes before she huffed and stalked away, almost colliding with Wheeler, who by this time had turned the girl around, apparently having given up on finding the hidden trail. Briar’s face burned as she mumbled, “Excuse me,” and brushed past them.

A heartache was what was in front of her, that’s what. She may as well rip out her bleeding heart and hand it to Wheeler to toss in the river, all the good it would do her now.

“Hi, Briar,” said the girl brightly. “Is this where you go on the weekends? I didn’t know your family’s cottage was out this way. It’s quite a walk. No wonder you stay in town during the week.”

Briar nodded and tried to get away, but the girl kept talking.

“Wheeler was telling me about a hidden pond in the forest. You must know where it is.”

Briar looked up at the sky, slowly drawing in a breath. No way on earth was she telling them where her pond was. She was claiming it back. “Sorry, Sadie, I’m late. My sister and brothers will be worried.”

Briar waved to Henry before she turned off the main road and strutted all the way down a long dirt path until she reached her home, not once looking back, despite the temptation to learn what the couple had decided to do.

The pot of geraniums near the door was always a welcoming splash of red against the brownness of everything. Brown dirt. Brown wooden shack. Brown smocks. Everything in her life was the color of dirt.

“Nanny?” she called out. “I’m home.”

Like clockwork, Nanny would welcome Briar into the cottage and allow her a few minutes to rest her feet. Together they would drink hot tea and discuss the children before starting on the evening chores. Usually the discussion was about what naughty thing the boys had done that week while Briar was in town, working during the day and spending the nights at the boardinghouse.

“Nanny?”

But instead of Nanny’s old wizened face, a new, peculiar one peered out the door, making Briar stop short with the shock of it.

A stranger was in her house with the little ones.

“Welcome home, dearie.”





Chapter Three



Briar stared at the strange sight welcoming her into her own home. The diminutive woman had bright eyes, pink cheeks, and gave off an underlying current of energy like she was a tornado about to tear across the earth.

“Hello?” A knot began to form in Briar’s stomach. This was too soon. It was only May. Nanny said she had until her seventeenth birthday in July to find a new caretaker for the children. “Are you from the asylum? Where’s Nanny?”

“Oh, is that what you call her?” said the peculiar woman. “Will wonders ever cease? I never expected her to get sentimental. Miss Prudence had something to do an’ asked me to look in on the littles, since she might be gone a spell.”

“You’re not here to take the children?” Briar squeezed her fingertips nervously, waiting for the answer.

“Take the children? Goodness, no. They don’t trust me to bring up children.” The woman’s expression altered. “Oh, my. That came out wrong. The children are perfectly fine with me while Miss Prudence is gone. Never fear.” She held out her hands as if to stop Briar right then.

“How long is Nanny—Miss Prudence—going to be gone? A few hours?”

The woman’s face took on a look like the kind the boys gave when they were caught in mischief. “Perhaps. Maybe longer.” She cleared her throat. “A few days.”

“Will she be home when I come back again next Saturday?” Briar suddenly realized it was time to have a serious talk with Nanny about the children. There was no use pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

“Could be…but not likely. It might take her some time.” She gave an awkward chuckle. “Not more than a few weeks, though.”