She bore a dark birthmark that swept across her cheek and neck, and she married a farmer known for being heavyset, slow, and rough. Few knew what became of them after… The bus groaned down the dirt road, rattling as the August sun slanted gold across the fields. Clara clutched the cloth bag in her lap, her hands thin, her heart braced. She was thirty-one now, long resigned to her reputation in town as the woman no man wanted. Her face told two stories—delicate features, thoughtful eyes, and that