“You’re not cursed.”
“My heart knows that now. But at the time, I couldn’t see that. When things started to get worse with Na…your father, I ran to your grandfather for help. He said he would help me under the conditions that I leave you children with your father and give my baby up for adoption. I told him I couldn’t do that. Without a second thought, he turned his back on me.”
“That’s why we never went to him after…”
“Yes.” She looked away from him as if ashamed by what she had done.
“I’ve been having dreams about that night.”
Elizabella gasped and got from around her desk and stood beside him, then gently leaned his head on her stomach. “You were not at fault for that night, my Quinny.”
“But I was the one that…”
“No,” she said, cutting him off. She kneeled in front of him. “I should have been strong enough to protect my children, but I was weak. I should have left when things got bad, but I was also selfish and wanted to prove my father wrong.”
“You were also pregnant.”
“It doesn’t excuse what I did. If anything, I should have left with you and your sisters when I found out I was pregnant. I should have listened when your grandfather said he was against it. I cannot and will not regret having my children. If there is anything you want to remember about that night, remember that the person who pulled the trigger was me.”
“But, Mama,” he started.
“No, my son. I take the blame for that night.”
Quintus couldn’t let his mother live with the guilt of thinking she was the one who had killed his father. Not when he was the one who pulled the trigger.
“Listen to me,” she said cupping, his cheeks. “You are not the one who killed him.” The determination behind her words almost made Quintus believe his mother—hat she was the one to kill his father. She leaned up and kissed him on his forehead before standing. “I’ve let that night hold me back as well. I’ve let my own fear and guilt keep me from giving my everything to a man that’s been patient with me. You might not remember much about that night, but we had some help.”
Snippets of that night came back to him, and he remembered his uncle Mohe showing up. “Your brother was there.”
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I miss him. Mohe never judged me for my decisions and was angry with your grandfather. He gave me some money and told me to take you kids and get out of town.”
Mohe had worked for the deputy department. Quintus wasn’t sure in what capacity, but he remembered how soft-spoken his uncle was.
“You look like him so much. I’m sure he would be proud of the man you’ve become.”
“Please, Mama. I don’t want to be told that I look like my bastard father.”
“You misunderstand me, my Quinny. You look like Mohe.” She sighed. “I’ve done wrong as your mother and not taught you about your Cherokee heritage.”
“What do you mean?”
Elizabella walked over and cupped his cheeks again. “The men in our family are all born with eyes of gold or silver. According to our ancestors, the gods and goddesses leave their marks on those they deem worthy of their blessings.”
“So, I don’t have that bastard’s eyes? I thought they looked like mine all this time.”
“No, Na…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Nathaniel’s eyes were dark brown.”
“Do you know how long I’ve hated looking in the mirror, because I thought I looked like him?”
“Oh, my Quinny. Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, still kneeling in front of him.
The sadness in her eyes broke him. “I didn’t want you to think about him or bother with my childish silliness.”
“How you see yourself is not silly. You are handsome, and it has been a pleasure as your mother to watch you grow up. And one day you will watch your son or daughter grow up.”
“You haven’t failed as my mother. But I think it’s time you should take your own advice and throw caution to the wind.”
“I know, and I will let Gabe mark me. I know he is my second mate. But first, I need to let go of my fear.”
