“Shhhh. Don’t tell my boss. That’s the last thing I need—her up my ass,” She admitted, right before she headed for the door. “Drive safe.”
And with that, she left.
When she was gone, Corbin touched the two wedding bands that were around his neck, on a chain. He imagined it hurt Alex when they were having sex, and all he saw was that.
While he still felt a little guilty about moving on, he was doing it for Will.
He deserved peace.
Pulling on his clothes, he made the mental note to give that peace to Alex next.
God knew he deserved it.
Oh, and he was going to get him to tell him about his past. If they were going to start something, anything, he knew what they needed.
The truth.
All of it.
Chapter Nineteen
Damascus
After Seven
Meeting Time
When Wyler woke up that morning, he felt a million times better about the trajectory of the last days of his life. Oh, deep down, he knew he wouldn’t live a long time, but at least he had some peace.
And Ethan did too.
He was actually looking forward to today, since his son was taking on the job of Shaman.
This was a long time coming, and the rez needed a shaman to be here. If not to help walk in the smoke, at pow-wows, and for celebrations, just to be there for the people who needed to talk. The spiritual advisor role was important to the Native people, and no one was more qualified to do it than his son.
Ethan was a wise soul, and he would be a good leader. He was compassionate, and he understood pain more than anyone. Today, he would step into his grandfather’s footsteps, and do the Blackhawk name proud.
He could tell.
Wyler felt it to his bones.
When the door to the renovated cabin opened, and out stepped his son, he was dressed in traditional Native attire, and it was in the family colors of turquoise and yellow. His hair was down, and it was just past his shoulders. On his finger was the ring that once belonged to Timothy, gifted by the tribe, as a symbol that he was the Shaman.
Tears filled the older man’s eyes.
“Ethan, my boy,” he said, moving toward him to hug him. He enveloped him in his arms and hugged him. “You are your grandfather’s heir,” he said. “I’m so proud of you.”
The man smiled.
“I couldn’t wear a suit,” he said, amused. “I’m happy that granddad’s things fit. Apparently, I’ve put on some weight in my happy married years.”
He laughed.
“Your wife had them tailored for you,” he said. “She slipped them out and back without anyone knowing, but me. She took them to one of the women on the rez, with your dress pants, and had them taken in. Eat something.”
That touched him in ways that he couldn’t even articulate. His wife was the driving force behind the Blackhawks, and each and every one of them was blessed.
In her day of countless hours, so much work, and the stress that could break a mere mortal, she held up and still had time to take an active role in their lives.
