“LET GO,” Harve ordered, shaking Penny’s arm. “I’ve got to get my toolbox.”
“Then get it,” said Penny. She stepped away and crossed her arms. “Good grief, couldn’t you give that poor woman a moment alone?”
Harve trudged to the truck bed and heaved out his toolbox. He stalked toward Penny’s rusted green car and cast a look of rebuke toward the house. “I bet he can’t fix a clogged U trap.”
“Who? Josh Morris?” Penny asked, with a challenging tilt to her head.
“Yeah, him.” Harve sneered. “I see he finished fixing that drainpipe. Those nails look whacked every which way. How long did it take him?”
Penny paused, suddenly not looking quite so superior. “About half an hour. Well, maybe more.”
“Ha!” Harve said in triumph. “I could have done it in three minutes.”
He knelt behind her car and opened his toolbox. Penny stepped closer, as if to supervise him. “Could you take a picture of a rhinoceros charging right at you?” she asked.
“No.” Harve snorted. “I wouldn’t want to. I’m not that big a fool.”
“Could you if you had to?” she persisted.
He ignored her. “How long you been driving around like this? This license plate is so bent up it looks like a paper airplane.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “A couple of weeks maybe.”
“Well, why didn’t you fix it sooner?” he grumped. He removed the license plate and bent it back into shape.
“Wow,” she said with grudging admiration. “You did that with your bare hands.”
“My hands aren’t bare. I got on gloves.”
“You know what I mean,” she said.
Oddly, her words filled him with warm pride. “You could have fixed this yourself if you’d got to it soon enough. What’s the matter? Don’t you have a screwdriver?”
“No,” she said matter-of-factly.
He stopped and stared at her. She leaned against a walnut tree, her green parka and cap in bright contrast to her flame-colored hair. He realized again that she was an attractive girl in her offbeat way.
“You don’t have a screwdriver?” he said in disbelief.
“We lost it,” she said without a note of embarrassment.
“You only got one?”
“There’s another one somewhere, but we can’t find that one, either,” she said.
“Well, then,” he said, head cocked, “how do you get anything fixed?”
“Mostly we don’t. Our father used to do all those things. Since he died, we’ve been trying to cope. We’re getting better. We do fine.”
“I bet,” Harve said and went back to screwing on her license plate. Her bumper looked crooked to him, too. Also, her tailpipe was rusted and bent.
“Umph,” he said. “I bet your house needs a thousand things done to it.”
“We get along just fine, thank you,” she said. But she didn’t sound quite so snippy.
He could hardly imagine two women silly enough to own only two screwdrivers and to lose both of them. Still, she was a feminine sort of little thing, and he supposed that accounted for it. Then he remembered he was supposed to be thinking of Briana.
“I’m going to come back tomorrow and fix that U trap,” he said, standing. “It’ll save her a plumber’s bill.”
“And what if she tells me not to let you do it?” Penny asked. The cold breeze blew a strand of hair across her eyes, and she swiped it away. Her eyes, he noticed, were almost as green as her cap and gloves.
“I’ll come and see anyhow,” he said stubbornly. “It’s the neighborly thing to do.”
“Suit yourself,” she said with a toss of her head. “But if she gives me orders, I’ve got to carry them out.”
“Fine,” he said, standing tall. As if in afterthought, he said, “Maybe I’ll straighten that bumper of yours, too. If you ever tried to tow anything, it’d pop right off.”
“Why would I ever tow anything?” she asked. A smile played at the corner of her mouth.
“Because you never know what might happen,” he told her.
She gave him a thoughtful look. “That’s true. That’s absolutely true.”
An odd feeling stirred deep inside him.
“Thanks for the help,” she said, moving toward her car. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”
“Yeah,” he said, his heart beating strangely hard. “Guess so.” He picked up his toolbox and loaded it in the truck. He gazed after her as she drove down the frozen lane.
Was that a wobble in her right rear tire?
It ought to be fixed.
BRIANA HIKED up the snowy hill to Leo’s house. She went reluctantly and only because she did not want to make a scene and upset her father.
But this could not go on, she told herself. She wanted to be with Nealie, and Nealie would rather stay with Josh. Briana didn’t blame her. She yearned to talk to Josh herself. But right now Leo held the winning cards.
It was unpleasant to think in those terms. Josh had always claimed that Leo played emotional games, that he manipulated her. She had always denied it.
She knew, of course, that her family had long deferred to Leo, that her mother had pampered him and trained Briana to do the same. He was her poppa. She had always thought him wonderful and adored him as her mother had.
He could be a man of enormous charm when he wanted to. Lately, he hadn’t wanted to. He was by nature good-tempered—although again, not lately.
She felt guilty and disloyal thinking such things, but she couldn’t help it. She opened the door and went inside. Leo sat in his recliner. He used his remote to turn down the volume of the television.
“You took your time,” he said with a hurt look.
“I had things to do,” she said. “I’m running behind these days. You’re sick, Nealie has her allergies, and I have all these trips to the city.”
“Feeling better?” he asked with his old air of kindness and concern.
“About the same,” she said, but that was not quite true. She was taking fertility shots and could already feel them toying with her hormones.
“I wish you could do this closer to home,” he said. “I worry about you being on the road so much.”
“I wish it was possible, too, Poppa.”
“Nealie didn’t come again today,” he said, clearly disappointed. “Doesn’t she love her old grandpa any more?”
“Of course, she does. It’s just that she gets to spend so little time with her father—”
“That’s God’s truth,” said Leo, his tenderness vanishing.
“—and she hasn’t been strong all this winter. She’s missed a lot of school. It’s best she sleeps in her own bed, sticks to her routine.”
“She’ll outgrow these allergies,” Leo said with confidence. “She comes from strong stock. At least on our side. Besides, it’s not like she’s a boy.”
Briana closed the coat closet and turned to him, her eyebrow lifted. “What do you mean by that?”
“She’s not a boy,” Leo said, laughing. “She’s not going to have to grow up and use her back, like Larry does. She’ll never have to take a wrench to a tractor and heave around hundred-pound bags of fertilizer. She’ll use her brains.” He tapped his forehead and winked his most beguiling wink. “Like you. And your mother. And Inga.”
“Oh,” said Briana. “So now it’s Inga, not Mrs. Swenson?”
Leo looked at her with wide, innocent eyes. “For goodness’ sake, I’ve known the woman from childhood.”
Briana gave him a one-cornered smile. “Yes. When she had no meat on her bones and her hair was the color of a barn rat.”
“Time changes all,” Leo said, trying to sound philosophical.
“She was a priss and do-gooder, too, as I recall,” teased Briana.
“I was young and inexperienced,” Leo said. “I didn’t appreciate her virtues. I was too busy being a red-blooded American boy.”
“And her virtues are…?” Briana coaxed.
“She’s a very organized woman,” Leo said. “Remarkably organized. Also an excellent cook. I’ve never liked winter squash. Tried to. Couldn’t. Yet she made a side dish—I can’t describe it. I must give more time to promoting winter squash.”
“Squash has long needed a champion,” Briana said dryly. “So she takes good care of you, eh?”
“She does an adequate job,” he admitted. Then, as if he felt he was revealing too much, he changed the subject. His look grew serious, even stern. “Why didn’t you let Harve fix that bathroom sink?”
“Because I don’t want him to.”
“Why not? The sink’s not working. He volunteered to take care of it. But you refused. That’s not neighborly.”
Briana sighed and prayed for patience. “I’m afraid his interest is more than neighborly. I don’t want to give him false encouragement.”
Leo raised one white eyebrow. “Sometimes there’s a person who seems…very ordinary to you. Then one day—bam!—you look and everything’s different. That could happen to you and Harve.”
It could happen to you and Inga, she thought, not sure how she felt about the idea.
“Just be kind to the poor man,” Leo said. “After all, he’ll be here long after lover boy’s gone.”
Don’t call him lover boy, Briana wanted to snap. Instead she said, “His name is Josh.”
“Whatever,” Leo said, turning his attention to the television screen. “Anyway, he’ll be gone. And you know it. But Harve will be here for the rest of your life.”
“Do I need to make you some supper?” she asked, her jaw clenched.
“I suppose,” Leo said. “Inga made a diet meat loaf. It’s in the refrigerator. All you have to do is warm it up. She said I should have a nice salad, too. She brought all the fixings.”
Briana looked at him, nestling cherubically in his chair, so content to be served, so confident it would be done. Don’t blame him completely, she scolded herself. You helped make him this way.
She set out for the kitchen. “I mean it,” Leo called after her. “Harve’ll be here for you forever. Think about it.”
JOSH WAS ON THE COUCH nearly asleep when the phone rang. He raised himself with a start and glanced at his watch. It was past eleven.
He stood and made his way in stocking feet to grab the receiver.
“Josh?” The voice was Briana’s, soft and low. Instantly he became alert.
“Babe?” he said.
“Is it too late?” she asked. “I looked down the hill. The living room lights were on. They were dim, but I thought you might still be up.”
“I was watching the nature channel,” he said. “Do you know that houseflies taste with their feet? Sounds unsanitary to me.”
He was joking. The television set wasn’t even on. He’d been trying to sleep on the couch because he didn’t want to sleep in Briana’s bed. He’d tried to last night. It had nearly driven him crazy.
The sheets smelled faintly of her sweetness. The whole room did. He remembered the warmth and pliancy of her body in that bed, of the hours they had spent there, the things they’d done, how she’d felt, how she’d tasted, how she’d sounded when she’d made little gasps of desire and fulfillment.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” she said.
“I wanted to talk to you, too,” he said. He imagined her in Leo’s house and wondered if she was dressed for bed. Did she still wear funny nightgowns? He’d always had them off of her in record time.
“It took Poppa a long time to get drowsy,” she said. “I think he’d been napping all day.”
“So he could stay up all night guarding you with a shotgun?”
“Very funny.”
“Very true.”
“How’s Nealie?”
“A superior child in every way. She went to bed with no trouble. But she misses you. She wants to know how long you’ll keep spending nights up there.”
He heard her sigh. He closed his eyes, remembering how she used to sigh against his neck, her bare body pressed to his, her naked legs twined with his.
He said, “Don’t tell me. I know. He’ll try to keep you there as long as I’m around.”
She said, “I’m afraid you’re right.”
He was surprised. “Once you’d never have admitted that.”
“I—I don’t know what to think,” she said. He could hear the unhappiness in her voice. “It’s like Poppa’s changed.”
From a toad into what? Josh thought. Knowing this wasn’t the most tactful of questions, he said, “Changed how?”
“He just seems a lot more calculating about Harve and me.”
“And what time should I expect your rural Romeo next? About three a.m.? Is he bringing a concrete truck? Will he be pouring a new basement floor?”
She laughed, although he could tell she didn’t want to. “Harve’s not a bad man.”
“To me he is. He’s a rival. He fights dirty. He can fix things.”
“Can’t you fix a U trap?”
“I don’t even know what a U trap is,” he said in all honesty. “It sounds like something for catching U-boats.”
“Well, I think Poppa and probably that Inga woman are encouraging him to be assertive.”
“That Inga woman? Hmm. Sounds like you don’t like her.”
“Actually, she’s done wonders for Poppa. The place already looks cleaner and brighter. She’s gotten him to eat things he’s never eaten before. She made him a meat loaf with tofu in it.”
“Tofu? My God, next she’ll have him doing yoga and standing on his head.”
“She might. She’s obviously got great persuasive powers. I’m just afraid she’s trying to use them on Harve’s behalf.”
“So is he starting to look better to you? That cap with the earflaps bit, that was pretty sexy.”
He liked joking with her like this, the old teasing way. Sometimes after sex, they’d lay in bed, cuddling and trying to make each other laugh.
But she didn’t laugh. “I feel sorry for him. I have the feeling that his aunt truly feels she’s doing the right thing. But she’s not.”
“No,” he said. “She isn’t.”
“There’s more,” she said. “Poppa’s much more openly hostile about you than he ever was before. I guess he feels threatened.”
He should feel threatened. If I could, I’d carry you off and ravish you in ways he’d hate to imagine.
“I’m afraid he’s a little jealous of how much Nealie cares for you.”
Josh forced himself to be generous. “That’s natural. Most of the time, he’s the main man in her life.”
“But not in her heart,” Briana said, making his own heart crack a little. “Maybe Poppa’s acting this way because he’s getting older. He’s facing his own mortality and worrying more than usual about the family and the farm.”
And maybe he’s getting careless and transparent, Josh thought. And you’re finally seeing through him.
She said, “But all I’m doing is talking about me. I wanted to talk about you, Josh. Why didn’t you ever tell me? About what happened when you were eleven?”
The old shame and sickness swelled in him, the old desire to keep his secret. “I don’t like talking about it.” But he knew he had to give her more than that. “I don’t even like thinking about it. So most of the time I don’t.”
Denial, he thought. The same thing for which he’d criticized Briana. If you didn’t think about it, never spoke of it, it was as if it never happened. But he’d been doing it for longer than she had. Years longer.
“I think I can understand,” she said.
He thought this was true. If anyone one could, she could.
Softly she said, “I wish you’d told me about this years ago.”
He stared at the afghan under which Nealie so often lay. One of her stuffed animals rested beside it. “What would it have changed?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “You wouldn’t have had to keep it locked up inside. You wouldn’t have had to be alone with it.”
He walked to the couch and picked up the toy, a small teddy bear, hardly larger than his hand. He said, “So now you know. After it was over and done with, I tried to forget it. You’re the first person I ever told.”
“Such a thing had to change you,” she said.
He turned the small bear around to examine it. It was dressed like a farmer, wearing little overalls. “Yeah,” he said in a rasping voice. “Maybe it did.”
“Oh,” she said, “Poppa’s awake. He’s calling that his throat’s sore and he wants some cough syrup. I have to go.”
He tossed the farmer bear up and caught it. It even had a tiny straw hat. “Will you call again?”
“If he goes back to sleep. He may want to stay up and watch television. If he does, I’ll go to bed. Snow’s predicted for tomorrow. They want to monitor me again at the clinic, and it’s a slow drive when it’s snowing.”
“Good night, babe.”
“Good night, Josh. Take care.”
He hung up the phone. He looked at the toy bear and wanted, irrationally, to throw it against the wall. Instead he set it on the coffee table. It was, he supposed, the perfect toy for a child who lived on a farm, but he’d rather Nealie had a bear with cargo pants and a camera around its neck.
He lay down on the couch. He thought of going upstairs to Briana’s room and sleeping alone in the bed they’d once shared. He couldn’t do it.
THE DAYS went by slowly. Leo and Inga contrived dozens of ways to keep Briana and Josh from being alone. But Harve was not cooperative.
Every morning he brought Inga to Leo’s. He stayed for an hour or so, repairing things that Larry hadn’t had time to get to, but having been rebuffed by Briana once, he was reluctant to approach her again.
But Inga had been after him, and he knew he must try. At the kitchen table, Leo was happily eating his omelette. Inga was tidying a cupboard, and Harve watched Briana’s house through the window. He had lingered there as he finished repairing a latch.
At Briana’s, Penny Pfeiffer had arrived in her broken-down green car. The old wreck belched smoke, too. It obviously needed a new filter. Couldn’t she see these things? Penny went into the house.
A moment later, Briana came out, laughing and blowing kisses over her shoulder to Nealie. Even from this distance, she looked so pretty and light on her feet that Harve’s heart tightened. Her truck wasn’t much newer than Penny’s old compact, but at least she kept it in good shape. She got in it and drove off toward the mysteries of the city.
Harve wondered what was wrong with Briana that she needed to get so many shots from a fancy doctor. Inga hinted it was a delicate problem, soon to be cured. Harve could imagine no problem. Briana always seemed full of energy to him, could work hard as a little horse—the perfect farmer’s wife.
Then Josh Morris came out of the house, holding Nealie by the hand. The kid was buttoned up, a muffler wound around her neck, big furry boots, a cap pulled down nearly to her eyes.
Josh strapped Nealie into her car seat in his rented car, got in, and they, too, disappeared down the lane. Good riddance, thought Harve. It was time for him to move.
He put his screwdriver into his tool belt. Without looking at his aunt, he said, “Think I’ll go down to Briana’s and start on that sink now.”
“Better late than never,” Inga said, but she sounded happy, not disapproving. “I’ve found some more things for you to do around here when you get back. I’m just determined to see this house put in order.”
Harve put on his heavy jacket and zipped it to the throat. He put on his wool gloves and his cap with the earflaps. He got in his pickup and drove the short distance to Briana’s house.
He took a deep breath, and when he knocked at the door, he tried to make the knock sound authoritative and masculine. The door swung open almost immediately, and Penny Pfeiffer stood there, all five feet two inches of her.
She pushed a red curl out of her eyes. “Well, look who’s here,” she said. “I heard you drive up. I knew it was you.”
“I came to fix the sink,” Harve said, drawing himself to his full height. He was well over a foot taller than she was. It gave him an unfamiliar feeling of machismo.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “My orders are not to let you fix the sink. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. If you want to come in and have a cup of coffee, that’s fine, but then you have to go.”
“But I even got a new U trap in case she needs one.”
“Nope. And that’s the final word from headquarters.”
Penny’s air was resolute, but he thought when he looked into her green eyes that he saw something like fellow feeling.
“Oh, come in,” she said, opening the door wider. “I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee and I’m not good for anything until I’ve had my second cup.”
Harve wasn’t sure. Having coffee was like settling for a consolation prize. But she had such a natural, no-nonsense air about her that he found himself inside the house and once again sitting beside her at the counter.
She made coffee so strong a horseshoe would float in it. “Good coffee,” he said.
“Caffeine,” she said, “nectar of the gods.”
A silence settled between them. An uncomfortable silence.
At last she planted her elbow on the counter and leaned her cheek against her fist. She regarded him with sympathy that seemed half kindly, half amused. She said, “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
Her words startled him. His coffee cup stopped in midair. “What do you mean?”
With one forefinger she traced a heart on the countertop. “Briana. I’ve been watching you this past week or so. You really do have it bad for her, don’t you?”
He tried to recapture his dignity. “I’m kind of partial to her,” he said.
Penny laughed, but not in a mean way. “Kind of partial,” she mocked. “Oh, Harve,” she said. “Sometimes you’re just too Jimmy Stewart.”
“Whadya mean by that?” he sputtered.
“I mean, you’re this big, tall, gentle guy who’s so impossibly shy about his emotions. You come courting with a lug wrench.”
“You mean I’m comical?” he asked. “Stupid?”
She shook her head, and the fiery curls bounced. “No. I’m sorry. It’s kind of sweet, actually.”
Embarrassment flooded through him. “But it shows? How I feel?”
“Is a bluebird blue?” she asked with a wry look.
“Of course, it’s blue,” he said. He set down the coffee cup. “Do people talk about me?” The thought was almost too horrible to bear.
She made a dismissive gesture. “A little tiny bit. This is a small town. Everybody gets talked about. Even me.”
“You?” he asked, still more confounded. “What do they say about you?”
“Oh, that I went off to Branson and lived the wild life of a musician.”
“Did you?”
“No. I was pretty square. I dated a drummer once. That was about it.”
A drummer. That sounded fairly wild to Harve. Drummers were known to have long hair and smoke marijuana.
“So what do they say about me?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, and her voice was kind. “Except that you’ve liked her a long time.”
“But that she doesn’t like me,” he said, plunging into dejection.
“It’s just she’s got this thing she has to resolve with Josh,” Penny said. “They saw each other and it was kismet—you know, fate.”
“That’s movie stuff. Life isn’t like that,” grumbled Harve. “What else do people say?”
She tapped the countertop thoughtfully. She gazed toward the kitchen window. “They say—well, they say if Briana doesn’t, shall we say, return your affection? That it’s her loss. There are plenty of other girls who wouldn’t mind if you came calling.”
He blushed so hard his ears burned. “W-what other girls?”
“There you go, being Jimmy Stewart again. Don’t you ever notice anything?”
“I notice things. Your tailpipe is rusty. Your right rear wheel wobbles. I notice lots of things.”
She laughed again. She rose and filled his coffee cup. He didn’t object. The conversation was uncomfortable, but it was also interesting. Hardly anyone had ever sat down with Harve and talked to him about himself. Except Inga, and she talked to boss him.
He said, “You didn’t answer. What girls?”
“Lots.” She sat beside him again.
“Name one,” he challenged.
Penny put her elbows on the counter, knitting her fingers together. “She’d kill me for saying this….”
“Yes?” Harve prodded.
“She’d never admit it in a million years….”
“Yes?” He leaned closer.
“She’s never actually come out and said it, but…”
“Yes?” His curiosity was rising to flood tide.
“I just sort of suspect,” she said slowly, “that my sister might kind of like you.”
He recoiled. “Tammy? The schoolteacher?”
Tammy was short like Penny, and she wasn’t bad looking, but she had no more personality than a fence post. Also, she sang soprano in the church choir, and when she hit high notes, she made Harve’s ears hurt.
“You and Tammy are a lot alike,” Penny offered. “You’re both quiet, sweet-natured, dependable. That’s an important quality, dependability.”
Harve had gone from excitedly curious to depressed. “You think Briana doesn’t want me, and you’re trying to matchmake.”
“No. I’m just saying there are other fish in the sea.”
Harve was obdurate. “I don’t want another fish. I want Briana.”
“Okay, okay,” Penny said, throwing her hands up in surrender. “It’s just that I wanted to let you know other women have said you’re attractive. You’ve got this kind of puppy-dog charm—”
“I’m tired of talking about fish and puppy dogs,” he said, pushing away from the counter. “Look, is there something around here I could fix? Just so I don’t feel like a complete fool for coming?”
She looked at him a long moment, as if having an argument with herself. “Maybe the doorknob on Briana’s office,” she said at last.
“What’s wrong with it?” he asked, mollified only a bit.
“It’s hard to turn. For her, it’s nothing, but me, with this trick wrist? Sometimes I have a real problem with it. It tends to swing shut.”
He sighed. “I can fix that with no problem. Will she get mad at me?”
She stood and motioned for him to follow her upstairs. “Don’t worry. If she gets mad, I’ll take the blame.”
He followed her upstairs. She wore jeans and little black slippers. He imagined her in her little blue skirt with white stars swinging back and forth from her hips like a bell. He imagined her in white cowboy boots.
I’ve got a certain puppy-dog charm, he thought irrelevantly. There are women who would welcome my attentions….
WHEN JOSH CAME BACK to the house after taking Nealie to school, it seemed achingly empty without her and Briana. Penny was upstairs working, but she kept to herself, did her job. She said Harve had come to fix the sink, but she hadn’t let him.
Josh was at loose ends. Bored. He decided to hike around the farm and take some art shots in black and white. He was checking his camera equipment when Glenda phoned.
Larry had a chest cold and was staying home. He could watch the kids while she went down to the greenhouses. The tomatoes were due for another transplanting, and she needed to get in all the work she could.
Would Josh like to come and keep her company? He said he would. He met her at the oldest greenhouse and tried to help. But his hands, so clever with a camera, were awkward with the seedlings. Glenda expertly transplanted six in the time it took him to do a bad job of one.
He knew, for the thousandth time, he wasn’t meant to be a farmer.
“They’re giving you a tough time, aren’t they?” Glenda asked. “It’s like they’re trying to keep you and Briana apart.”
“Trying,” he said. “They’re doing a damn good job, if you ask me.” He accidentally snapped the stem off a plant and swore. He said, “I don’t get this sudden ascendance of Inga. It’s like she appears and is the puppet mistress, pulling everybody’s strings.”
“She’s cast a spell on Leo, that’s for sure,” Glenda said. “But in a way it’s good. She’s getting the place cleaned up. She’s getting him to eat right and even exercise a little more.”
And she’s keeping me away from my wife, he thought with acrimony.
He said, “She’s pushing Harve at Briana for all she’s worth.”
Glenda tossed him a sad glance. “She’s really fond of him. He’s the only relative she has, you know. And she’s convinced you won’t stay around.”
He broke another stem and spilled potting soil on the counter. “I don’t quite fit in here, do I?”
“If you want Briana, keep fighting for her,” Glenda advised. “They’ll keep trying to come between you. You’ve known that from the start. It’s just gotten more obvious. A lot more obvious.”
They were silent for a moment. Then Josh said, “You wouldn’t mind if she went away, would you? Briana, I mean.”
Glenda looked at the tray of plants and picked up another seedling. When she spoke, it was with an air of reluctant confession.
“She’s my sister-in-law, and I love her, but Larry will always be in her shadow. I’d like to see him come into his own. He never will with Briana always here. Leo never listens to Larry’s ideas. It doesn’t help Larry’s disposition.”
Uh-oh, thought Josh. He gave her a sidelong glance. “You and Larry. Are things okay between you?”
She nodded. “Mostly. But we—we’ve had words. I told him after this baby, no more children. He finally agreed. I think the babies were one of his ways of proving he’s a man. I told him there are other ways.”
“Yeah,” Josh said.
“Harve’s wrong for Briana,” Glenda said. “I’ve always known that.”
Josh stopped mutilating plants for a moment. “But am I right for her?”
She looked at him searchingly. “I wish I knew. Sometimes love just isn’t enough. You know?”
Her cell phone rang. She wiped her hand on her apron and answered. “Yes, honey,” she said. “Yes, honey. Well, make him stop. You’re his father. Just make him. Yes. I’ll be right there.”
She tucked the phone into its holder and untied her apron. “Larry. He can’t hold the fort any longer. I’ve got to go back.”
He helped her into her coat, put on his own and walked her to her van. He watched her drive off. She was a brave woman in her own way.
He hiked uphill against the wind to Briana’s house. Tonight he would somehow get her to himself and talk to her the whole night long, if necessary.
He vowed he would.
But it was not to happen.
Instead, it was the night Harve Oldman’s farmhouse caught on fire.