Gladys pulled her attention away from Oliver and stood up straight. “Yes. Right through that door there. A midwife is in there with her. I can show you the way.”

“That won’t be necessary. The fewer people, the better.”

Margaret hoped that his skills were more profound than his demeanor. Then again, he must be particularly busy with such cases right now. According to Catherine, Dottie’s predicament was not an uncommon one.

It didn’t matter, as long as he took good care of Dottie.

The doctor departed, closing the door behind him, and the next fifteen minutes were nerve-racking for Margaret. Gladys and Oliver continued their conversation with palpable ease, as if there was not a sick woman just feet away from the other side of the brick façade. Margaret was distracted with worry and heard little of what they were saying, though it seemed that Gladys said she would consider meeting up next weekend at a restaurant that Oliver was keen on. Margaret decided to walk around the block to clear her head and circled the route four times before an update seemed forthcoming.

Her heart clenched when Catherine came back outside.

Please let it be good news.

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

The Browns’ house in Chilton Foliat backed up to a fingerlike branch of the River Kennet. At that point, it was not much more than a stream, but it still attracted some of the rainbow trout that the river was known for. Open-windowed mornings at the kitchen table invited the sound of the gentle babble of its movement over the stones in its bed. Tom found peace listening to it, accompanied only by some distant noises from nearby Leverton Lane.

Autumn trees had begun to boast a spectrum of colors, and it made Tom miss his favorite season back in Virginia.

He liked being near the water because it was easier to pretend that he was back at home. Though in the Chickahominy, the bounty was different—often yellow perch and black crappie and his favorite—largemouth bass. When he closed his eyes, he could taste the bass with lemon, garlic, and pepper—a Friday night staple at his house, and later the dish his mother always made when he returned home on the first night of a semester break.

So he was delighted to discover that Mrs. Brown prepared the trout in much the same manner. A reminder of simpler days, quelling the ache of being so far away.