She’d ordered some maternity clothes from a Dayton’s catalog. Nearly seven months pregnant, she thought, and my own clothes aren’t that much too tight. But the new blouses and slacks and skirts buoyed her spirits. She remembered how carefully she’d shopped when she was pregnant with Beth. She’d worn those same clothes for Tina. For this baby Erich had said, “Order as much as you want.”

The night of the dinner she wore an emerald-green two-piece silk dress with a white lace collar. It was simple and well-cut. She knew Erich liked her to wear green. It did something to her eyes. Like the aqua gown.

The Garretts and Emily came together. Jenny decided there seemed to be a new intimacy between Mark and Emily. They sat side by side on the couch. At one point Emily’s hand rested on Mark’s arm. Maybe they are engaged, she thought. The possibility brought a queer stab of pain. Why?

Emily was making a distinct effort to be pleasant. But it was hard to find common ground. She talked about the county fair. “Corny as they are, I always enjoy them. And everyone was talking about how darling your girls are.”

“Our girls,” Erich smiled. “Oh, by the way, you’ll all be glad to know the adoption is complete. The girls are legally and bindingly Kruegers.”

Jenny’d expected that, of course. But how long had Erich known? A few weeks ago he’d stopped asking her if she minded if he took the girls out. Was that the reason: they were “legally and bindingly Kruegers”?

Luke Garrett was very quiet. He had chosen to sit in the wing chair. After a while Jenny understood why. It gave the clearest view of Caroline’s portrait. His eyes seldom strayed from it. What had he meant by that warning about accidents?

The dinner turned out well. She’d made tomato bisque from a recipe she found in an old cookbook in the kitchen. Luke raised his eyebrows. “Erich, if I’m not mistaken that must be the recipe your grandmother used when I was a boy. Excellent, Jenny.”

As though to make up for his earlier silence, Luke began reminiscing about his youth. “Your dad,” he said to Erich, “was as close to me growing up as you and Mark ever were.”

At ten o’clock they went home. Erich helped her to clear the table. He seemed pleased at the way the evening had gone. “Looks as though Mark and Emily are pretty close to an engagement,” he said. “Luke would be glad. He’s been after Mark to settle down.”

“I thought so too,” Jenny agreed. She tried to sound pleased but knew the effort was a failure.

In October it became sharply colder. Biting winds stripped the trees of their autumn finery; frost dulled the grass to brown; rain became icy. The furnace hummed constantly now. Every morning Erich started a fire in the kitchen stove. Beth and Tina came to breakfast wrapped in warm robes, eagerly anticipating the first snowfall.

Jenny seldom left the house. The long walks were too tiring and Dr. Elmendorf advised against them. Her legs cramped frequently and she was afraid of falling. Rooney came to visit every afternoon. Between them they’d made a layette for the baby. “I’ll never sew properly,” Jenny sighed, but even so it was gratifying to make simple kimonos from the flowered cloth that Rooney ordered from town.

It was Rooney who showed Jenny the corner of the attic where the Krueger bassinette was covered with sheets. “I’ll make a new skirt for it,” Rooney said. The activity seemed to brighten her and for days at a time she was never confused.

“I’ll put the bassinette in Erich’s old room,” she told Rooney. “I don’t want to move the girls and the other rooms are too far away. I’d be afraid I wouldn’t hear the baby at night.”

“That’s what Caroline said,” Rooney volunteered. “You know Erich’s room used to be part of the master bedroom, kind of an alcove of it. Caroline put the bassinette and baby dresser there. John didn’t like having the baby in his room. Said he didn’t have a big house so he’d have to tiptoe around an infant. That’s when they put the partition in.”

“The partition?”

“Didn’t Erich ever tell you that? Your bed used to be on the south wall. Behind the headboard where it is now is the sliding wall.”

“Show me, Rooney.”

They went upstairs to Erich’s old room. “Course you can’t open it from your side with the headboard there,” Rooney said, “But look-see.” She pushed the high-back rocker aside and pointed to a recessed handle in the wallpaper. “Just watch how easy it works.”

Noiselessly the panel slid open. “Caroline had it made like that so when Erich was bigger you could just close off the two rooms. My Clyde made the partition and Josh Brothers helped him. Didn’t they do a good job? Would you ever guess it was there?”

Jenny stood in the opening. She was behind the headboard of her bed. She leaned over. That was why she had felt a presence, reached out, touched a face. She remembered the constant sensation of long hair. Rooney’s hair removed from that tight bun was surely quite long. “Rooney,” she tried to sound casual, “do you ever come into this room and open the partition at night? Maybe look in at me?”

“I don’t think I do. But, Jenny…” Rooney put her lips to Jenny’s ear. “I wouldn’t tell Clyde because he’d think I’m crazy. Sometimes he scares me. He talks about putting me away for my own good. But, Jenny, I’ve seen Caroline walking around the farm at night these last few months. Once I followed her here to the house and she came up the back stairs. That’s why I keep thinking if Caroline is able to come back, maybe my Arden will be here soon too.”

29

This time it wasn’t false labor. Quietly Jenny lay in bed timing the contractions. From ten minutes apart for two hours, they suddenly accelerated to five-minute intervals. Jenny patted the small mound in her abdomen. We’ve made it, young Mr. Krueger, she thought. For a while I wasn’t sure we would.

Dr. Elmendorf had been cautiously pleased on her last visit. “The baby is about five pounds,” he said. “I’d wish it bigger but that’s a comfortable weight. Frankly I was sure you were going to deliver prematurely.” He’d done a scan. “You’re right, Mrs. Krueger. You’re going to have a boy.”

She went down the hall to call Erich. The door of his bedroom was closed. She never went there. Hesitating she knocked. “Erich,” she called softly.

There was no answer. Could he have gone to the cabin during the night? He’d started painting again but always came home for dinner. Even if he went back to the cabin for the evening he returned to the house at some point.

She’d asked him about the panel that separated his old room from the master bedroom. “My God, Jen, I’d forgotten all about it. Why do you get the idea someone has been opening it? I’ll bet Rooney is in and out of this place more than we realize. I warned you against getting so cozy with her.”

She hadn’t dared tell him that Rooney talked about seeing Caroline.

Now she pushed open the door to the room he’d been using and reached for the light. The bed was made. Erich wasn’t here.

She’d have to get to the hospital. It was only four o’clock. There wouldn’t be anyone up until seven. Unless…

Padding softly on bare feet down the wide foyer, Jenny passed the closed doors of the other bedrooms. Erich would never use any of those except…

Cautiously she opened the door of his old room. The Little League trophy on the dresser glistened in the moonlight. The bassinette, now frothy with a yellow silk skirt overlaid with white net, was next to the bed.

The bedcovers were rumpled. Erich was asleep, his body hunched in his favorite fetal position. His hand was thrown over the bassinette as though he’d fallen asleep holding it. Something Rooney had said came back to her. “I can see Caroline rocking that bassinette by the hour with Erich fussing in it. I used to tell him he was lucky to have had such a patient mother.”