From him?
When had he let his circumstances dictate his feelings? He couldn’t say when it began, perhaps when he’d laid Ma in the ground and escorted a confused pa and angry sister home. And day after day, endured the endless brass sky.
Pushing aside the wandering thought, he led the way across the edge of the hill until the dip of the ground lay before them. He stared in disbelief.
“It’s filled with flowers like an oasis of color in the dusty grass.” His voice rang with his surprise. He laughed from pure delight. “We called it Ma’s flower patch, but she said it was God’s and she only enjoyed it.” The blossoms’ sweet fragrance filled the air in defiance of the heat, like a promise from God that He hadn’t forgotten their needs.
“Many summer evenings, she would sit out here, her Bible in hand. Pa would watch her with an adoring smile. ‘This is your ma at her best, talking to God about you and me and Kathy.’” Zach’s voice cracked on those words. “I miss seeing Ma sitting here, her gentle voice carrying through the air as she whispered her prayers.”
He tried to walk away, but he was powerless to move from this spot. Instead, he sank to the ground, his legs stretched down the slope. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
Amelia sat nearby. Her soft laughter brushed across the yellowed grass. “Have you forgotten I learned much of this from your letters?”
“The ones I didn’t write?”
“Yeah, those.”
Both sobered. Who had written those letters? And why?
A scene stuck in his thoughts, having taken up permanent residence. “Gil’s mother was a friend of Ma’s.”
She nodded. Of course, the letters he hadn’t written had informed her. But the writer wouldn’t know the story he was about to tell her.
“Mrs. Morrow used to come to see how Gil was doing. Though I think it was mostly to see Ma. They would visit for hours. If the weather permitted, they’d bring tea and cookies here.”
How different Gil was when his ma was around!
“Gil seems to have a secret way of knowing when his mother will come and is always on his best behavior. He’ll even iron his shirt and serve his ma all his best food—he makes delicious roast venison. Won’t even tell his mother what he does to make it taste so good.”
Zach slid a glance to Amelia, grinned at her wide-eyed interest. “I guess you’re having a hard time imagining him being a skilled cook. It’s too bad, but that’s about all he cooks that I can rave about. Lately, I’d settle for any kind of meal.”
“Well, he did make breakfast. But a secret recipe? I’m having a hard time picturing that.” She rocked her head back and forth and then chuckled, her eyes shining dark green. “Guess it proves you have to be careful judging people.”
“I’ll have to bring in some venison while you’re here so he can roast it for you.” He leaned closer to whisper. “Maybe you can learn his secret.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you suggesting I spy on his preparation?”
“Me?” He drew back with mock shock. “I would never suggest such a thing.” Leaning close again, he breathed the words next to her ear. “But you don’t have to keep your eyes closed either.”
Laughter bubbled from her.
Their gazes caught and held, and for one sweet moment, Zach allowed himself to think they might share something. And he didn’t mean a similar sense of humor. He meant?—
He didn’t know what he meant—and leaned away, concentrating on the scene before him. Oh yeah, he was telling about Gil’s mother.
“This one day, Mrs. Morrow seemed upset. Even I, hardly more than a boy, realized it.” His laughter rang with self-mockery. “Maybe the tears clinging to her lashes helped me see it.”
Tears like tiny diamonds. The same thing he’d seen on Amelia’s lashes a short time ago. Only Mrs. Morrow’s tears had made him twitch. Grown-up women weren’t supposed to cry. On the other hand, Amelia’s tears triggered a desire to hold her, comfort her, take up a sword, and fight the things bothering her.
It was a mighty good thing she couldn’t read his thoughts.
He continued his story. “Ma made tea, and they brought it out here. I remember it was a cool day with a wind blowing up the valley, but the two of them wrapped shawls around their shoulders and sat on the blanket Ma had taken with her.
“Gil saw me watching them and said to give the ladies some privacy. I didn’t know what he meant. They were so far away that no one could hear what they said. After a bit, I got bored with watching nothing happen and went to the barn to talk to my favorite horse.”
A pink flower caught her attention, and she shifted closer to trail her finger across the pale blossom.
Zach forgot the story he was telling. Nor could he remember why he thought to relay the incident.
