Scarlett Rose's Arc

Chapter 18 of 57

Scarlett called Rose from the cottage porch while the sun climbed over the ridge. The greenhouse had held. The citrus was green. But her mind was already on the room down the hall — the one Clayton had built and left bare, waiting. He had framed the walls, hung the door, and set the window. Then he had stopped, because the rest wasn't his to decide. She wanted him to walk in and see a real room for a child, not an empty box with good bones. She told Rose about it before she told her about the dress. Rose listened, then took over. She would come a day early. She would bring the crib set she'd been eyeing on that Pinterest board of hers, shipped ahead to the feed store. Scarlett laughed and let her. Rose arrived Thursday in a turquoise blouse and too much jewelry for the gravel drive. She hugged Scarlett hard, then pointed at the truck. "Unload. We have one day." They worked while Clayton was out moving cattle to the south pasture. Scarlett swept the sub-floor and wiped the window glass. Rose unboxed the nursery furniture piece by piece — a curved crib, a dresser with soft drawer pulls, a changing table with a low rail. The wood was pale and warm. Scarlett ran a hand along the crib rail and felt the shape of it settle into the room. "Put the crib on the inside wall," Rose said. "Away from the window. Cold drafts." They set it there. Scarlett folded a soft blanket over the rail. Rose hung a small framed print above the dresser and stepped back. The bloodhound pup Clayton had brought over months ago padded in, sniffed the crib leg, and lay down beside it like he'd been assigned the post. By five o'clock the room was done. Curtains up. Rug down. A lamp with a low, warm bulb on the dresser. Scarlett stood in the doorway and could not stop looking. Clayton came in at dusk with dust on his sleeves. She took his hand at the kitchen and walked him down the hall without speaking. She opened the door. He stopped in the frame. He looked at the crib. He looked at the dog on the floor. He took his hat off and held it against his chest. "You did this today," he said. "Rose helped." He crossed the room and put a hand on the crib rail where hers had been. "It's a room now." "It is." He turned to her. His eyes were wet and he didn't hide it. "We're going to need it sooner than I planned." Scarlett's hand went to her stomach before her mind caught up. She had been three days late and had not said a word. "Clayton." "I know," he said. "I counted too."