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Tommy looked up from his work as Alec approached and offered him the whip. The smith put down his hammer and the horseshoe he was working on, wiped his hands on his shirt. He took the whip, gave it a good look, then threw it into a corner.
“I deserve it,” Alec admitted.
“Mebbe. But I’m not in the mood.”
Alec stared hard at his father, his eyes narrowing.
“You did wrong, boy,” Tommy said. “You hurt Jesse. An’ I hafta tell ya, I jus’ don’t understand why.”
“Because I am a fool. All I could think was that, somehow, if I knew who did it, it would make it easier. But it didn’t. It didn’t make any difference at all.
“And I just couldn’t...” Alec went on, “I’d waited so long to find out, and it didn’t make any difference at all. I just wanted to forget. I thought—I don’t know what I thought any more. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just wanted to forget.”
“Did you?” The question was spoken softly, but cut to the bone.
“NO!” Alec swayed on his feet. “No. How could I ever forget?”
“Do you still want to?”
“No.” It was hardly more than a whisper. “I just want it not to hurt so much.”
A long arm reached out to him. A strong hand fastened itself behind his head. He was pulled in against the broad chest, held by arms that seemed made of steel. He clutched the sleeves, pressed himself tight as if to draw on the strength of his father’s body, and gave way to sobs once more.
“I want her back!” he cried. And heard the deep, sonorous voice whisper brokenly.
“So do I, boy. So do I.”
***
LATE IN THE AFTERNOON, when the stable was warm with fire and steam, Annie returned. At his workbench Alec sat engrossed, engraving a silver medallion. Approximately the size of a silver dollar, but an irregular shape, he’d carved the upper portion with tiny leaves, and was now working on the lower half, carving in the trunks. He was still wearing the torn velveteen shirt.
She stood behind his shoulder as he worked silently. She’d never been at ease with him, although they were close in age. They’d been in school together for several years and Annie had grown up in the cottage next door, yet they’d never become close, for her shyness was as pronounced as his reticence. He put his tools down finally and picked the piece up, showing her that the reverse side was identical.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
He took her hand, opened it, and placed the medallion in her palm. “For you. With my thanks.”
“Thank you!” She held it up to let the light sparkle through. “I’ve always admired your work. I’ve always wanted one of these.”
From his forge, Tommy watched them and was satisfied. Maybe he’ll learn. Maybe it won't be so bad after all. He’s started to make amends. I only hope Daniel can forgive him.
He said he’d go tomorrow. I guess he has to work up the courage. It ain’t easy to tell your best friend you’re a fool. And who would know better than me? I once accused John Patrick of prejudice, just because he forgot to invite me and Elena to some little shindig when he first moved here. Wasn’t he the only man who ever came to these parts and talked to the tribe before he moved onto the land?
I guess we’re all fools from time to time. I guess that’s why we need our friends so bad—keeps us humble. His hammer rang with every thought. I hope Daniel can forgive him.
***
THAT AFTERNOON, BRIAN rode into town to pick up supplies and returned to the canyon with the news that Jesse’s secret was a secret no more.
Adam’s eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw grew hard. He paced endlessly up and down in the barn, trying to find a reason, any reason, not to tell her. How can I face her with this? But she was sure to hear it sometime and he cursed himself as a coward. How can I let anyone else?
With that final thought, he crushed out his cigarette and strode to the house, stalking past his brother and Rebecca at the kitchen table, knowing he’d lose his courage if he hesitated at all. At the bedroom door he faltered, his hand on the knob, the knot in his heart choking him. But she called out to him.
He went in slowly, like a condemned man to execution, and saw the faint tinge of rose in her cheeks. She was still so sick, her small strength used up combatting the nausea she suffered. He took her hands and brushed his lips over them.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He could scarcely reply. “Jesse, there’s something I’ve got to tell you. It’s bad news, love. Brian heard it in town.” He stroked her bright hair, fighting for words as her troubled frown questioned him.
“Jesse,” he managed to say, “it’s about your brother. And... and Elena. Alec told... everyone in town... ”
He couldn’t go on. His wife nodded silently and closed her eyes against the day. She didn’t respond and she didn’t cry. But it was a long hour before her trembling stopped, and another before she slept.