“I stand corrected.” The nurse nodded at Rose and winked.

Yuck! Rose thought. She couldn’t bear that patronizing voice. She turned to the nurse. “I think Gran and I need to be alone.”

“Of course, dear. Just ring the buzzer if you need me.”

Rose nodded.

She pulled a chair up to the bed and took her grandmother’s hand. The skin felt papery. Her knuckles were knobby and hard as rocks.

“Hey, Gran,” she said softly. “You’ve got dirt under your fingernails, you know that?”

“Oh yes. I was transplanting some Italian radish seedlings when I started to feel a little whiffy.”

“Whiffy?”

“Short of breath. Happens to me occasionally.” She paused for the better part of a minute. Then she opened her eyes wide and clutched Rose’s hand tightly. It was an amazing grip for a whiffy old lady on oxygen. “I’m trying to think of how to put this, Rose.”

“Put what?”

“You know.” She nodded slightly, and Rose felt a sudden relief. Gran knew! “You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Been where?”

“Cluelessness is not your strength, dear. You have no talent for it.”

“Hatfield.” Rose whispered the word.

“Hatfield, you said?” Gran replied. Rose nodded. “Richmond was my first visit. Hung about there for quite a while.” She paused. “You see, you got the gene.” She snorted now. “Genes, they didn’t even know what genes were back then. Mendel wouldn’t start fooling around with his peas for another three hundred years or so. Darwin? Forget about it.”

“My mom had the gene too, I think.”

“Yes, she did. It’s why she and I had a falling out. I tried to stop her from going back. All I could imagine for her was heartbreak. It was a mistake.”

“But it wasn’t heartbreak for you?”

“No, it saved me. You see, once, long ago, I had a really bad husband.”

“A husband from then?” Rose asked.

“You mean from five hundred years ago? The sixteenth century?”

“Yeah.”

“No, no, he was from now—well, the twentieth century.” She took a deep breath. A film of tears covered her eyes. She began to speak haltingly. “He . . . he . . .”

“He what, Gran?”

She sniffed and wiped her nose briskly. “He left.”

“Left? He just left?”

“Left with some of my money after your mother was born. Left us both.” She sighed again. “Some people can fall out of love as quickly as they fall in love.”

“But was your husband’s name Ashley?”

“Good heavens no. I took the name Ashley for myself and your mother because I met some Ashleys from way back when at Richmond, and they already had a reputation for being intelligent, kind people. Learned people for those times.”

“So that man who left you was my grandfather, but who was my father?”

“I don’t know.”