And then in a burst of cheer, they returned. Annabelle insisted on stopping in to see her mother on the way home from the station, and Consuelo was delighted to see her, looking healthy, happy, and brown. Josiah looked well too. They still bantered with each other like children in a schoolyard, teasing, laughing, making jokes about everything. Annabelle said that Josiah had taught her fly fishing and she had caught an enormous trout on her own. Josiah looked proud of her. They had ridden horses, gone hiking in the mountains, and thoroughly enjoyed life on the ranch. She looked like a child who had been away for the summer. It was hard to believe she was grown-up and married. And Consuelo could see none of the subtleties and innuendoes of womanhood on her face. She had no idea if a baby had been conceived, and she didn’t want to ask. But Annabelle looked like the same gentle, loving, happy young girl she’d been when she left. She asked how Hortie was, and Consuelo said she was doing well. She didn’t want to frighten Annabelle with stories about the birth, and it wouldn’t have been suitable for Josiah’s ears anyway, so she simply said that all was fine, and told her the baby had been named Charles. She left it to Hortie to tell Annabelle the rest, or not. And she hoped not. Most of it was too frightening for a young woman to hear. Particularly one who might be going through the same thing soon. There was no point terrifying her.

They stayed for an hour and then said their good-byes. Annabelle promised to visit her mother the next day, and they both would dine with her that night. And then after hugging Consuelo, the young couple went home. It had cheered Consuelo immeasurably to see them both, but the house seemed emptier than ever when they left. She was hardly eating these days, as it was too lonely sitting in the dining room alone.

True to her word, Annabelle came to have lunch with her mother the following day. She was wearing one of the outfits from her trousseau, a very grown-up-looking navy-blue wool suit, but she still looked like a child to her mother. Even with the trappings of womanhood, and a wedding ring on her finger, she acted like a young girl. She seemed very happy as they chatted over lunch, and Annabelle asked her what she’d been doing. Her mother said she hadn’t been in town for long, and had stayed in Newport later than usual, enjoying the September weather, and now she was planning to start her volunteer work at the hospital again. She expected Annabelle to say she’d join her, or mention that she was going back to the Hospital for the Ruptured and Crippled again, but she surprised her mother and said that she wanted to begin volunteering at Ellis Island instead. The work there would be more interesting and challenging for her, and they were so shorthanded that she would have more opportunity to help with medical work, and not just observe or carry trays. Hearing about it, her mother was upset.

“Those people are so often sick, they bring in diseases from other countries. The conditions there are terrible. I think that’s a very foolish thing for you to do. You’ll wind up catching influenza again or worse. I don’t want you to do that.” But she was a married woman now, and it was up to Josiah what she did. She asked her daughter if he knew what she had in mind. Annabelle nodded and smiled. Josiah was very sensible about things like that, and he had always been understanding and enthusiastic about her medical interests and the volunteer work she did. She had told him about her new plans.

“He thinks it’s fine.”

“Well, I don’t.” Consuelo frowned, gravely upset.

“Mama, don’t forget that the worst case of influenza I ever had, I caught in a bunch of ballrooms, going to parties when I came out. Not working with the poor.”

“That’s all the more reason for you not to do it,” Consuelo said firmly. “If you can get that sick at parties among healthy, well-kept people, imagine how sick you will get working with people who live in terrible unsanitary conditions and are riddled with diseases. Besides, if you get pregnant, which I hope you will or are, that would be a terrible idea and would put you and the baby at risk. Has Josiah thought of that?” Something crossed her daughter’s eyes that Consuelo didn’t understand, but it vanished in a flash.

“I’m in no hurry to start a family, Mama. Josiah and I want to have some fun first.” It was the first time Consuelo had heard her say that, and she was surprised. She wondered if she was using one of the new, or even ancient, methods to keep from having a child. But she didn’t dare to ask.

“When did you decide that?” Her daughter’s comment had answered Consuelo’s question about whether Annabelle had gotten pregnant on the trip. Apparently not.

“I just feel too young. And we’re having so much fun without a baby to worry about. We want to take some more trips. Maybe to California next year. Josiah says that San Francisco is beautiful, and he wants to show me the Grand Canyon. I can’t do that if I’m expecting.”

“The Grand Canyon can wait,” her mother said, looking disappointed. “I’m sorry to hear it. I’m looking forward to grandchildren,” she said sadly. She had nothing in her life now, except visits with Annabelle, rather than living with her, which she loved. Grandchildren would have filled a void for her.

“You’ll have them,” Annabelle reassured her. “Just not yet. Don’t be in such a hurry. As Josiah says, we have lots of time.” He had said it more than once on the trip, and she had no choice but to agree. He was her husband after all, and she had to follow his lead.

“Well, I still don’t want you working on Ellis Island. I thought you liked the volunteer work you were doing.” The Hospital for the Ruptured and Crippled was bad enough, in Consuelo’s opinion. Ellis Island was unthinkable.

“I think Ellis Island would be more interesting, and give me more of a chance to improve my skills,” Annabelle repeated, and her mother looked startled by what she said.

“What skills? What do you have up your sleeve?” Annabelle was always full of new ideas, particularly about medicine and science. They were clearly her passion, even if she didn’t get to exercise them in any official way.

“Nothing, Mama,” Annabelle said seriously, looking a little sad. “I just wish I could help people more, and I think I’m capable of doing more than what they let me do at the hospitals here.” Her mother didn’t know that she wished she could be a doctor. It was one of those dreams that Annabelle knew would never come to fruition, so why talk about it and upset her? But at least she could come as close as possible, as a volunteer. Ellis Island, and their acute need there, understaffed and overpopulated, would give her a chance to do that. It was Henry Orson who had suggested it to her. He knew a doctor there and had promised to introduce her. And because it was Henry, Josiah had approved the plan.

Annabelle went to visit Hortie after lunch with her mother. She was still in bed some of the time, but getting up more and more often. Annabelle was shocked by how thin she looked, and how tired. The baby was big and beautiful, but Hortie looked like she’d been through the wars, and said she had.

“It was awful,” she said honestly, with eyes that still told the tale. “No one ever said it would be like that. I thought I was dying, and my mother said I nearly did. And James says he wants another one soon. I think he’s trying to start a dynasty, or a baseball team or something. I still can’t sit down, and I was lucky I didn’t get an infection. That probably would have killed me like Aimee Jackson last year.” Hortie looked seriously impressed and badly shaken by what she’d been through. And Annabelle couldn’t help wondering if the baby was worth it. He was adorable, but it wouldn’t have been adorable if his arrival had killed Hortie, and it sounded like it nearly had. It seemed terrifying when Hortie told her what it had been like. “I think I screamed for all twenty-six hours. I’m not even sure I want to do that again. And imagine if it were twins, I think I’d kill myself rather than go through it. Imagine having two in one night!” She looked horrified, whereas six months before she had thought having twins would be funny. Having babies had turned out to be far more serious business than she’d previously thought. And the story she told was scaring her old friend. Enough so that Annabelle was grateful that she wasn’t pregnant. “What about you?” Hortie asked, looking mischievous suddenly and more like her old self. “How was the honeymoon? Isn’t sex fabulous? It’s a shame it has to end up in childbirth, although I guess it can be avoided, if you’re lucky. Do you think you’re pregnant yet?”

“No,” Annabelle said quickly. “I’m not. And we’re in no rush. And what you’re telling me makes me never want to do it.”

“My mother says I shouldn’t talk about it to women who haven’t had babies.” Hortie looked guilty then. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“That’s all right,” Annabelle said sunnily. She had offered no comment about their sex life and didn’t intend to. “You just make me glad I’m not pregnant.” Hortie lay back in bed then with a tired sigh, as the wet nurse brought the baby in to show them how fat and handsome he was. He was a lovely baby, and sleeping soundly in the nurse’s arms.

“I suppose he was worth it,” his mother said, sounding uncertain, as the nurse left again. Hortie didn’t like to hold him often. Motherhood still scared her, and she hadn’t forgiven the baby yet for the agony he’d caused her. She knew she’d remember that for a long, long time. “My mother says I’ll forget eventually. I’m not so sure. It was really awful,” she said again. “Poor James has no idea, and I’m not allowed to tell him. Men aren’t supposed to know.” It seemed a strange principle to Annabelle, since they would have told him if she died. But failing that, it was supposed to remain a mystery, and one was supposed to pretend that everything had been easy and fine.