Ethan shook his head.
“You can stay, Winn. You’re off duty. No one is coming here to hurt us, and there’s nothing going to be said that you can’t hear—or haven’t heard before.”
The man just nodded.
Ethan focused on his father.
It was time to close that hole between them, and the main reason was because of what his mother had said. It was time to stop this, once and for all.
Yeah, he’d planned that before, but there had always been that little piece that didn’t forgive.
Time was running out, and he knew it.
His father was on borrowed time.
Every day, he looked older as his body was fighting cancer, and he knew the odds.
They weren’t in his favor.
“I went into the smoke after you left,” he admitted, sitting down at the island that Elizabeth had wanted when they renovated the kitchen.
Wyler handed him a bowl of stew as Ethan began buttering some bread.
“And?” he asked.
He shared.
“First, I’m sorry that I busted your balls about this. I get angry easily, and I’m working on that. I had it under control for many years, but what happened when we went to Philadelphia brought it back out. It’s in control again.”
Wyler didn’t say anything.
He let his son talk.
How was he supposed to follow that up? His boys had so much trauma, and as their parent, it had been his job to protect them.
And he hadn’t.
“I don’t want to be angry,” he said. “I want to have peace. That’s part of why I came back and made the decision to stay. Tomorrow, I’m going to go to the council and talk to them about a Blackhawk taking up being the shaman again. I’m not Timothy, by any means, but I think I can hold my own. The reservation needs one of us, and I’m ready.”
Immediately, Wyler apologized.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to be that person and do the job,” he stated. “We’re a lot alike, Ethan. We both lost our mothers early, and had issues with our father. You had it worse, but I was made into this, too. I’m grateful you found yourway out of the destructive behavior early, and made a life for yourself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
He was, too.
Only now, he understood better. He’d not climbed out alone. He’d stood on the shoulders of the men before him. Timothy held up his son, and Wyler had let him climb up and use him to find a way out.
“I saw Mom.”
That hung there.
At his words, Wyler’s heart hurt. He always wondered if she’d show up if Ethan went into the smoke. God knew she’d never show up for him—like he never showed up for her.
Honestly, he didn’t deserve it, and he knew it.
“Can I ask a question?” Ethan asked. “And will you be honest with me?”
He nodded.
