Free Bone River by Megan Chance

I could find her in time I could save myself.
    The thought surprised me. I could only stare at her, motionless, disconcerted. For weeks I’d wanted nothing more than to be right here, but now that I was, I felt at a sudden loss. I was so ill equipped for this. I wasn’t certain what to do, how to go about it. I tried to think of Papa, of the rigorous course of study he’d crammed into my head. I would have to draw her, of course, but before that...Skull measurements, I remembered. Morton’s
Crania Americana,
the measurement of brain capacity. But no...this was no skull to fill with lead shot, and now it was all about craniometry anyway. Agassiz’s eight types, a cephalic index...The words leaped around in my head, confusing. I could not remember the categories, or even how to measure, so instead I satisfied myself by looking, noting my every observation in the notebook: where the skin was cracked or tearing, the number of teeth and their locations, discolorations. Drawing and observing was something I
could
do. I was so completely caught up in it that when I heard the movement at the doorway I jumped, nearly dropping the notebook.
    It was Junius. “Here you are. When did you come out here?”
    I realized how light the day was beyond him. “Near dawn.”
    “Didn’t you hear Leach shouting? Schooner’s coming in. Get your gear. We’ve got to get going.”
    The schooner from San Francisco was in Bruceport to buy oysters. There hadn’t been one in weeks, and we’d all been waiting. It needed all of us to load the sloop and get there in time—first come, first served, and a late arrival meant perhaps not selling at all. The day I’d planned with the mummy would not happen after all.
    Disappointment overwhelmed me, along with the sharp memory of her unflinching, terrifying gaze, demanding my presence, my study. I couldn’t go. She wanted me here. But no, that was ridiculous. She couldn’t
want
anything, and I couldn’t stay. Junius and Lord Tom needed me.
    I said to Junius, “I’ll be there in a moment,” and he went out again, and I turned back to the mummy, thinking I’d take just one more moment. One more look here, at the scraped elbow, and then her clasped hand—
    “Leonie, what the hell are you doing?”
    I whirled around.
    Junius again, furious now. “We’re waiting for you. What the hell’s taking you so long?”
    “I’m sorry, I—”
    “Get your gear.” He was thin-lipped as he stalked over to me. I stood there like a stone. He jerked his head at me. “Go on. I’ll put it away. You’re costing us time. Hurry up. Lord Tom and the boy are at the sloop.”
    The boy.
It took me a moment to remember who that was. Daniel. Junius’s son. I’d forgotten all about him. I felt caught in a haze, caught in her orbit and my dream, and nothing felt real but the barn. It wasn’t until I walked out that the feeling cleared, that I remembered myself. The oysters. The schooner. We were already late. There was no time to do more than grab my oystering boots and my hat and the heavier leather gloves and then race out to where Lord Tom and Daniel were waiting by the plunger.
    Lord Tom frowned. Daniel did little more than nod a good morning. He huddled, his hands in his coat pockets and his hat pulled down hard, his face more finely sculpted now in the harshness of the morning light, or perhaps only because he was cold.
    Lord Tom turned to the plunger, and I realized that Junius was already behind me, having rushed from the barn. “Let’s go,” he said, and within only a few moments, the four of us were on our way.
    Bruceport was maybe three miles away by land, but no one went anywhere by land, because the way was all hilled forest and salt marsh and tidal sloughs that were full of water when the tide was in, and thick viscous mud when it was out. Impossible to cross, and Daniel had been lucky—it wasn’t uncommon forthose who tried to get stuck and sometimes drown when the tide came in. This morning