Ben stood there in his night shirt hair flattened carrying a worn cloth rabbit in one hand. He looked at Clare. She looked back. "Come sit with me," she said quietly. "I don't bite."
He crossed the room with his particular careful walk. He climbed up onto the sofa beside her and sat with the rabbit in his lap and leaned very slightly against her side. Clare kept her eyes on her mending. She did not make a fuss. She did not react with the kind of exclamatory warmth that would have startled him back.
She simply kept mending and shifted slightly so that he was more comfortable and let the quiet hold them both. After a while, Ben said in a voice so small it was almost not there at all. Miss Clare. Yes, she said just as quietly. Does the rabbit need a name?
She looked at the cloth rabbit in his lap. I think the rabbit probably already has a name, she said. But maybe he hasn't told you yet. Ben looked at the rabbit for a long time. "George," he said.
"That's a good name," Clare said. Ben leaned a little more firmly against her side. "George says so, too," he said. Clare kept her eyes on her mending and did not let herself feel anything about this for approximately 30 seconds. Then, she felt everything about it.
On a Thursday evening in her third week at the Walker Ranch, Thomas came in from the barn later than usual and found Clare at the kitchen table going over the household accounts. Not his financial accounts, but the household running costs because she had noticed they were spending more than necessary in certain places and less than necessary in others. And she had some thoughts about it. He stopped in the doorway. She looked up.
I reorganized the pantry and the supply lists, she said. If you buy the flour and sugar in larger amounts at Morrison's instead of the smaller bags, you save about 30 cents a month. And Lily's going through lamp oil faster than she needs to. I think she's keeping her lamp on long after she's actually asleep. I'll talk to her about it.
Thomas looked at her. He said nothing for a moment. Then he said, "My children are eating better. The stew needed balance." Clare said more vegetables.
Emily's been drawing. He said she has a gift. Jacob came home yesterday talking about something his teacher said in mathematics. Thomas said this like a man reporting a small miracle. He hasn't talked about school in 2 years. Clare set down her pen.
She looked at him steadily. They're good children, Mr. Walker. All five of them. They've been trying to take care of you while you've been trying to take care of them, and nobody has been taking very good care of themselves. Thomas's jaw moved.