library relies on the goodwill of locals. It relies on the notion of the public good. Whatever it is you’re doing, you have created a controversy and Mr. Brady does not want his only child dragged into it.”
She raised a hand suddenly to her cheek. “Oh, my. Mrs. Nofcier will not be happy when she hears about this. She will not be happy at all.”
“But—but Beth Pinker just broke her arm. We’re already one librarian down. If we lose Izzy, too, the library won’t be able to continue.”
“Well, perhaps you should have thought about that before you started mixing things up with your . . . radical literature.” It was then that she noticed Alice’s face. She blinked hard, frowned at her, then shook her head as if this, too, were evidence of something going deeply wrong down at the Packhorse Library. Then she swept out, Izzy throwing a despairing glance their way as she was pulled along by her sleeve toward the door.
* * *
• • •
Well, that’s torn it.”
Margery and Alice stood on the stoop of the now empty meeting hall as the last of the buggies and murmuring couples disappeared. For the first time Margery seemed truly at a loss. She was still holding a crumpled leaflet in her fist and now threw it down, grinding it under her heel into the snow on the step.
“I’ll ride tomorrow,” said Alice. Her voice still emerged muffled from her swollen mouth, as if she were speaking through a pillow.
“You can’t. You’d spook the horses, let alone the families.” Margery rubbed at her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll take what extra routes I can. But Lord knows the snow has pushed everything back already.”
“He wants to destroy us, doesn’t he?” said Alice, dully.
“Yes, he does.”
“It’s me. I told him where to put his fifty dollars. He’s so mad he’ll do anything to punish me.”
“Alice, if you hadn’t told him where to put his fifty dollars, I would have done it and in capital letters. Van Cleve’s the kind of man can’t bear to see a woman take any kind of place in the world. You can’t go blaming yourself for a man like him.”
Alice shoved her hands deep into her pockets. “Maybe Beth’s arm will heal quicker than the doctor said.”
Margery gave her a sideways look.
“You’ll work something out,” Alice added, as if she were confirming it to herself. “You always do.”
Margery sighed. “C’mon. Let’s head back.”
Alice took two steps down and pulled Margery’s jacket tight around her. She wondered whether Fred would come with her to pick up the last of her belongings. She was afraid of going by herself.
Then a voice broke into the silence. “Miss O’Hare?”
Kathleen Bligh appeared around the corner of the meeting hall, holding an oil lamp in front of her with one hand and the reins of a horse in the other. “Mrs. Van Cleve.”
“Hey, Kathleen. How are you doing?”
“I was at the meeting.” Her face was drawn under the harsh light. “I heard what your man there was saying about y’all.”
“Yes. Well. Everyone has an opinion in this town. You don’t want to believe everything you—”
“I’ll ride for you.”
Margery tilted her head, as if she wasn’t sure she was hearing right.
“I’ll ride. I heard what you was saying to Mrs. Brady. Garrett’s ma will mind the babies for me. I’ll ride with you. Until your girl’s arm is mended.”
When neither Margery nor Alice responded, she said: “I know my way around every holler for twenty miles yonder. Can ride a horse as well as anyone. Your library kept me going and I won’t see some old fool shut it down.”
The women stared at each other.
“So what time do I come by tomorrow?”
It was the first time Alice had seen Margery truly lost for words. She stuttered a little before she spoke again. “A little after five would be good. We got a lot of ground to cover. Course, if that’s too difficult because of your bab—”
“Five it is. Got my own horse.” She lifted her chin. “Garrett’s horse.”
“Then I’m obliged to you.”
Kathleen nodded at them both, then mounted the big black horse, steered him round, and was lost in the darkness.
* * *
• • •
When she looked back afterward, Alice would remember January as the darkest of months. It wasn’t just that the days were short and frozen, and that much of their riding was now done in the pitch black, collars high around their necks and their bodies swaddled in