The snow has thickened over the past few days since Madame Oliver banged on the door. In that time, Rose barely left the house except to get water, and she returned home as soon as she was done.
Her mother seemed to be doing better, but it was hard to say she was truly recovering. She was still bedridden and required a lot of help to do anything.
Rose knew exactly how hard it must have been on her father. As her mother's primary caregiver, having that job passed on to him as well as providing for the house most definitely had its effects.
Her mother wasn't exactly healthy, but her father certainly said she was getting her spirit back and Rose thought so too. She was as mouthy as ever, according to him.
Her father seemed unsure whether it was because of Rose's presence or Lord Paul's remedy. He refused to believe it was the latter, and Rose didn't argue with him on that.
Her parents didn't directly ask her about what happened while she was at the castle, but she could tell they were curious. Rose, however, didn't want to tell them, and when her father would subtly ask, she gave him vague answers.
She also didn't have the heart to tell them she would be returning, as Caius would soon call her back when he saw fit. She wanted to give it some more time. They were so happy to see her, she didn't want to break their hearts again.
"Wha are ye t'inking so deeply about again, Rosie?" her mother called.
Rose jerked as she sat on the bench watching the fire crackle. She glanced at her mother and smiled at her. "Oh, nothing," Rose said. She lifted the bench and pulled it closer to the bed.
"Ye are lyin', aren't ye?"
"I am not lying, Mot'er. Aren't ye supposed to be sleeping?" she asked as she arranged the covers around the woman.
"Isn't tha all I do?" she said in her usual snarky tone, and Rose grinned.
"There is nothing wrong with sleeping," Rose replied, still tucking her mother in.
Her mother slightly lifted the corner of her nose, looking at her daughter in practiced annoyance. "I am not a baby, Rosie."
Rose smiled genuinely, feeling her heart squeeze a little. It had been some time since she heard her mother complain about how Rose fussed over her.
"I know," she responded, still smiling.
Her mother didn't look very pleased about Rose's expression. "'Elp me sit up," she said.
"Mot'er, you have been sleeping less and less these past few days."
"If I am not complainin', I don't see 'ow it is any business of yers."
"Aye, aye," Rose answered and stood to her feet, ready to lift the older woman.
She adjusted her mother carefully against the wall and pulled the covers closer to her. It was still very cold, even colder. The wood Thomas had brought was certainly very helpful, Rose didn't want to imagine what the situation would have been like without it.
Rose glanced at her mother's hand as she adjusted the covers around her legs. Her mother's hands were thin as a twig, and Rose could easily wrap a palm around them with space to spare.
"Would ye like something to drink?" Rose asked as she tried to distract herself from her mother's state.
"No!" her mother said stubbornly. "Sit wit me."
"Isn't that what I am doing?" Rose asked in the same tone as her mother.
The older woman chuckled. "Yer Fat'er went out, rig't?"
Rose nodded.
"I always tell 'im not to work too 'ard in tha snow, but ye know yer fat'er never listens."
"I know, but he promised to return early."
"Mmm," she scoffed, then her face turned serious.
Her mother lightly moved her finger and Rose instinctively grabbed her hand. Her mother sighed as though content.
"'Ow are ye farin' in Edenville? I am sure it must be too small for ye. Tha capital must be four, nay, ten times tha size of Edenville."
"Mot'er," Rose called. "Nowhere is better than Edenville."
Her mother scoffed. "'Tis a backwater town. Ye oug't not to joke about tha."
"I like Edenville just fine," Rose replied. "Ye should not think about nonsensical things."
Her mother opened her mouth to speak but promptly closed it. Rose suspected what her mother was hinting at, but she didn't want to think about it.
She was glad the woman didn't bring up something like trying to find a new fiancé—or worse. Rose knew her mother was worried about her, and even though it was simply Rose's choice not to get married earlier, her mother would always blame herself.
"It's not nonsense," she said after some deliberation. "I 'ave taken too—"
"What about another lunch?" Rose suddenly asked. "I won't start preparing dinner until later, but I can always make something simple for you to eat."
Her mother tilted her head to the side, her eyes twinkling with unshed tears. She didn't say anything for a bit, just stared at her daughter.
"I couldn't 'ave asked for a better daug'ter," she finally said. "I love ye, mi little Rosie."
"I am not little anymore," Rose reflexively replied. It was either that or she might cry. They both knew they didn't have much time.
Her mother laughed. "As long as I birthed ye, ye will always be little to me."
"I love ye, Mot'er. I really do, and I am sorry I was away when ye needed me the most."
"I 'ave not said tis, 'ave I?" her mother mumbled.
"Said what?" Rose asked with a puzzled expression. The fire crackled beside them and outside, she could almost hear the snow fall.
The small familiar room was warm, and it felt like every winter, but things had changed irrevocably, and there was nothing Rose could do about it. It hung in the atmosphere even as she tried hard not to think about it.
"Ye saved ye father. T'ank ye for tha, and I wanted ye to know tha no matter wha 'appened ye will always be our little Rosie," her mother said with a smile. "I want ye to be 'appy, always."
Rose felt tears pool in her eyes, and she nodded at her mother's words. She didn't want to cry, as she doubted she would be able to stop.
Her mother squeezed her hand. "I don't know wha 'appened, but I know I am glad tha yer are back 'ere wit us. Yer fat'er is too."
"I know," Rose mumbled and leaned against her mother, trying hard not to cry.
She lay in this position with her mother lightly tapping her back and didn't stir until she heard the sound of her father returning home.
Vallyn bent his head as he walked into the house, sheepskin around his shoulder. He took his headgear off, which sprinkled snow onto the ground—some of it started to melt immediately.
"Fat'er," Rose called excitedly.
"Rosie," he grinned, taking off the sheepskin. He laid it in the corner before he ventured closer. "How is ye mot'er?"
"Ask 'er instead," her mother replied, glaring at him. "Ye stayed out too long."
"I 'ad to," Vallyn said apologetically. "A snowstorm is comin'. I 'ad to get wha I need. It looks like the storm might last at least a week."
"A storm?" Rose asked, worry in her voice.
They weren't particularly lacking anything and would likely survive being holed up for a week or more, but a snowstorm was a little concerning. There was a high chance it could be more than just a snowstorm.
"Aye," her father said as he joined her on the bed. "No need to worry. I don't t'ink it will be anyt'ing too 'eavy for us to deal wit."
"Ye won't go out in the snowstorm, rig't? Not for anyt'ing."
Rose knew what her mother was talking about. Her father was one of the largest men in the village and probably one of the strongest, especially since he dealt in lifting wood and carrying them about.
"I won't. Besides, tha merc'ant gave me a job. I will be busy all winter. I need drier wood, but tis will 'ave to do for now. I left tha wood at tha back."
"Wouldn't that make them even wetter?" Rose asked with a frown.
Her father did have a workshop where he kept his wood, but it wasn't a good place to store it, as the pieces could get damp from the cold. Rosie's room on the other hand was too small for some of the furniture most of the time.
"I'll move it. I need to cut it into smaller pieces first. I will do tha tomorrow. Don't worry about tha. Ye aren't going to teac' yer fat'er 'ow to do 'is job now."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Rose grinned. "If you need help, I am right here." She could barely hide her excitement as she offered her help. It wasn't usual for her to help him.
Her father smiled and touched her shoulder. "I will need all tha 'elp I can get."
"Yes," Rose cried happily, and then her expression changed as she noticed the room wasn't as bright as before. She rushed to her feet, startling both her parents.
"Wha is it?" her mother asked first. Her father looked like if his wife had waited just a moment, he would have asked the question too.
"Dinner! I have to prepare dinner," Rose yelled as she walked towards her room, which also served as a store.
"Is tha reason ye are in a 'urry?" they asked in unison.
Rose could hear the hint of laughter in their voice as she rushed away. It was warm. This was nice. She hated that she couldn't help but think it wouldn't last but for now, she would enjoy every moment with her parents.