Page 126 of Stay Buried

“You’ll have Aife for company,” I said, calling the dog, who trotted in from her bed in the kitchen near the woodstove. Her toenails clicked as she hurried to us across the wood floor. She came and rested her chin on the edge of Pearl’s bed. Pearl stroked her head.

“There’s plenty of food—there’s all that’s in the pantry, and the canned goods in the cellar. I’ll bring armloads up for you,” I went on. “You’ve got all the books in my uncle’s library to keep you entertained. You are going to stay here with the door locked and not open it for anyone until I return. Do you understand?”

Pearl only stared.

“Promise me,” I said. “Promise me you’ll stay here and wait for me.”

“And what are you going to do if I say no?” Pearl asked. “Shoot me again?” She gave me a wicked little smile.

“That’s not funny. You know how terrible I feel about what happened. How guilty I feel that you’re here in this bed because of me.”

“Because I jumped out at you,” Pearl corrected.

“I could have killed you,” I said, looking away.

Pearl reached for my face, turned it toward hers, stroked my cheek.

“But you didn’t. And personally, I think I’m going to have a rather fetching scar.” She grinned her fox grin. “Something that ties me to you forever.”

I shook my head. “I’d much rather it was a piece of jewelry I’d given you that tied us together and made you think of me each time you saw it.”

“Like a wedding ring?” Pearl asked.

My face and ears grew red.

Pearl crossed her arms defiantly over her chest and pouted. “Are you saying you don’t want to marry me, Frances O’Massey?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying. But what you’re asking… it’s…”

“If you say it’s impossible, I’ll remind you we’ve had our share of impossible things happening around here lately.”

I nodded. “Indeed we have.”

“I’ll make a deal with you, Frankie. I’ll stay here and be a good housewife all on my own, but when you come back from the big city, you bring me a ring. Is that an agreeable arrangement?”

I smiled. “Very agreeable indeed,” I said, and leaned in to kiss Pearl. She pulled me to her.

“Careful,” I said, “I don’t want to hurt you or rip your sutures. I just put on a clean dressing and—”

“The hell with the dressing,” she said, kissing my lips, my cheek, nibbling my neck while her deft fingers unbuttoned my shirt.

LATER, WHILE PEARLrested, I spent much of the afternoon preparing. I went to Pearl’s house to gather some of her clothing and belongings. I got Benjamin Stoddard’s Winchester rifle and brought it to Pearl.

“Just in case,” I said. “Do you know how to use it?”

“Of course I do,” Pearl said, picking up the gun, checking to see that it was loaded. “My father used to take me duck hunting when I was younger. I was a better shot than he.”

I stuffed my old canvas knapsack with bread, hard cheese, salami, and a flask of water. I packed my pipe and tobacco and threw in a couple of changes of clothes, extra wool socks, and my uncle’s Smith and Wesson. The same revolver he’d used to put a bullet in his own head.

Our last night together, I slept beside Pearl, spooned against her, listening to her breath and trying to time my own to match hers.

Pearl would be safe here. She had to be.

I’d get to Boston and back as quickly as I could.

“I will come back for you,” I whispered as my beloved slept beside me. “I will come back with a ring in my pocket.”

Just a few days, I told myself. If the weather was right and the trains were running, I should be back in four or five days at the latest.