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312 pages, Paperback
Published August 29, 2023
“I c-curse—I c-curse them greedy bastards,” he grits out. “I—I—” and with the curse still on his lips he slumps, his head rolling onto Roan’s shoulder. A horrid sound wrenches from Mose and a terrible pain fists itself from Roan’s belly up through his chest. He catches himself on a sob and is startled like a child who’s known only the pain of the flesh. He drops his forehead against that wildly thatched brow and his mouth trembles.
He is struck with the desire to beat the remaining snow from this cold grave, to shovel down through the earth until he reaches Frances Elizabeth and the little nest of bones upon her skeletal breast. Then all would be still, the spirits pummelled back into their graves and he restored to what he was before the old nurse spun out her confession.
Uncle Jack sings, his voice starting to hoarsen, sounding rougher than an anchor dragging the ocean floor. “Abiiide with meee, ooooh, abiiiide with me.” The men sing with him: they sing to keep themselves going, they sing to banish the cries of the dying, they sing to banish their own fear of dying, they sing to banish the night and banish thoughts of their weakening legs and frozen fingers and hungry bellies, and their songs are their tears and their voices are as one and it is louder than the winds.