Spindle(74)

“No. No!” Henry squeezed her tight against him, as if trying to keep her alive by sheer will. “We’ll all think of something. You have life in you, Briarly Rose, and we’re going to think of something.”

She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had to face reality. “My birthday is the day after tomorrow.” What she didn’t say was that she felt the poison pressing in on her lungs like fingers looking for a weak spot, and it was getting harder and harder to fight it. No one can stop the curse now. It’s too late.





Chapter Thirty-Nine



When Briar woke up in the darkness she could tell something was different. What felt like a wall keeping the sleeping sickness steady was gone. The pins and needles feeling was stronger now and once again traveling up her body. Her stomach. Her ribs. It was working its way through her bones and into her lungs, and then it would hit the target—her heart.

Afraid her panic would make the poison travel faster, Briar slowed her breathing and focused on the things that mattered. Pansy. The boys. Henry.

Henry had been so tender with her on the way back to the cottage, and the way he lowered her onto the bed. Even though Pansy was hovering, wanting to care for Briar herself, he plumped up Briar’s pillow and tucked her in. Told Pansy she could take the night shift.

Like Briar did while she was spinning, she released what her body was doing and retreated into her mind. She imagined happier days. She looked over at the bundles in the beds near her. The boys. Jack soundly sleeping, but Benny wrestling with monsters in his sleep. He’d gotten all twisted up in his sheet.

As the sunrise warmed the world and started to brighten the room, Briar drank in Pansy’s sweet face. Her long eyelashes restful on her cheeks, her heart-shaped lips, parted open to breathe. She’d been such a help to Briar these last few days. As Pansy rubbed the liniment into Briar’s sleeping legs there was a deep concentration etched on her dainty features, as if through force of will Pansy would save her sister.

Briar tested her limbs to see what would move. Not her toes. Not her knees. Not her thighs. She tried to bend at the waist, something she could do yesterday, but her body wouldn’t respond today.

Alone, and not having to put up a front for anyone, Briar let herself fall apart. This was it, then. Today or tomorrow was all she had left.

What would you do if you only had one day left to live?

It was a question often asked at the boardinghouse in the middle of the night when room-mates couldn’t sleep. Mim had gotten serious and said she’d hop on a train and go home. Ethel’s answer made much more sense now. She’d said she’d hold a baby to remind herself that life goes on. Briar couldn’t remember what she’d said. It was probably something grandiose like take the children to the ocean and pretend they could see Ireland off in the distance. But now that the reality was in front of her, she realized she just wanted to be. Be still. Be present.

She’d made her peace with God long ago and wasn’t scared of what happened after she died. It was the dying part she was nervous about.

“Briar, do you want me to do your hair for church?” Pansy asked. She’d gotten out of bed and had started to pack up the bedroll.

Briar blinked away her tears and smiled wide at Pansy, putting all sad thoughts behind a facade. She shook her head. “I’ll not be going today.”

“But you always go,” Jack said. He yawned as he climbed onto the bed.

“Who’s going to keep us from getting in trouble?” Benny asked as he stretched himself awake. “We don’t listen to Pansy.”

Not pausing from her rolling, Pansy stuck out her tongue at the boys.

Briar touched Jack’s hair, wincing as she raised her arm. “You are old enough to stop yourselves from getting into trouble,” Briar said. “Behave, and look out for each other.”

Briar blinked the sleep from her eyes. She took some experimental breaths. She had a few more hours, she guessed. Her lungs were tight, but the air still eked in. Her face was likely pale, and she hoped the children wouldn’t be scared. Fanny should send them away for the night. Perhaps Mrs. Prince could take them in until Briar passed. It was selfish for Briar to want to keep everyone snuggled close to her.

The children were back and had gathered around her bed with big grins. Briar wondered if they’d found another stray animal to bring home. What time was it anyway? She smiled at them.

“They can’t fit inside the house, so they made a ring around the yard. Everyone’s holding hands and praying for you.” Benny bounced on his toes as he spoke.

“Who?”

“The whole valley.”

“And Miss Ethel and Miss Mim,” said Jack, blushing. He had a little boy’s crush on Mim ever since she slipped him those first sweets when they came to town to see where Briar lived.

Mr. and Mrs. Prince came into the cottage with apologetic, worried looks. “How are you, Briar?” Mrs. Prince said quietly.

They must feel as guilty as Henry. How to let them know how genuinely she was touched by their concern? “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered. Now she knew why Mrs. Prince didn’t want Briar at the farm. It wasn’t because she didn’t like spinner girls. She was merely trying to protect them.

Briar’s attention was drawn to Henry hovering near the door, with Ethel and Mim. They might have news of Maribelle. If Briar were to go to her maker tonight, she’d like to go knowing Maribelle was on the mend.