Read Online Soldier Doll by Jennifer Gold - Free Book Online Page A

tea.” He offered the steaming cup to his daughter, who stared at him blankly. “Tea.” he repeated. He looked awkward.
    Meg blinked and nodded absently at him. “Thank you.” She took the cup and held it with both hands, but did not take a sip. She caught the familiar scent of fresh bread and felt again as if she might be sick.
    â€œI am truly sorry.” He sat down at her desk chair. “Ned was a wonderful boy. I often thought of him as a son.” His voice choked slightly.
    She said nothing, continuing to stare down at her teacup.
    Mr. Merriweather reached behind him and pulled out a small box. “The Robertses, they felt you should have these,” he said, offering her the box. Meg set the teacup gently on the floor by the bed and took the box from her father. Was this all that was left of him? She opened it.
    â€œHis effects,” said her father. Inside were his watch, his cap, and a small parcel of her letters, tied neatly with a piece of old cloth. There was also a medal he had been awarded for his bravery, presented to his parents upon his death. Meg turned it over in her hands, disbelieving that this was all that was left of his life.
    â€œMr. and Mrs. Roberts should have these, really.” Meg took out his cap and stared at it.
    â€œNo, they felt these things belong to you,” said her father. “Henry, he was quite firm about it.”
    Meg looked again at the objects in the box. Where was the little soldier doll? She shook the contents and checked again. It wasn’t there. She wondered what had happened to it.
    â€œThank you, Father.” Meg folded her hands. “I must thank the Roberts’s,” she said. Then, thinking of facing Ned’s mother, her chest tightened.
    Her father looked awkward again. “Meg,” he said. His face was red.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œIs there—is there anything you wish to tell me?”
    Meg put her hands on her stomach again. “I think you know,” she said in a dull voice.
    â€œOh, Meg.”
    â€œWe were handfast.” Her voice caught. “I’m sorry, Father. The shame—”
    â€œNever mind that.” He put a firm hand on her shoulder. “You just take care of yourself now.”
    â€œI’ll have to tell Mr. and Mrs. Roberts.” Meg’s eyes were closed, and she was bent forward slightly, breathing heavily as if she was having trouble getting enough air. Her voice betrayed a mixture of fear and grief.
    â€œThey’ll be pleased, I think. It’s not the same as it was. Not with the war.”
    â€œI hope so.” It was hot in the cottage, but she was shivering. She wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection and tried to take a deep breath.
    Her father stood. “I’ll leave you now. I’m sure you want time to grieve alone.” He made for the door, but before opening it, he turned back to his daughter. “The pain…it does subside eventually. Somewhat.” His eyes clouded over.
    Meg nodded, but didn’t speak, watching as her father quietly closed the door.
    Meg looked down at Ned’s watch and cap. A tidal wave of grief swept over her, her breath catching as if she’d been knocked to the ground by it. She swam for air.
    Her stomach heaved again. Meg grabbed a bowl from the desk and retched. Settling back down, she felt something else: something familiar and unwelcome. The cramps seized her unexpectedly. Meg gasped, and her arms flew protectively across her stomach. The feeling passed, and Meg exhaled, relieved. Tenderly, she stroked her abdomen. “Be well, little one,” she whispered softly.
    Then it happened again.
    The cramping was worse this time. Meg paced the small room until it passed, then collapsed at her desk. When she stood up, she noticed the blood. Just a little—she pretended not to see it, at first. Another wave of cramping overtook her, then more blood. An odd feeling, hot and damp between