this land.
She would have loved Amy. Wrestling with regret was a waste of time and energy,
but Jesse tussled with his feelings anyway. He'd lost his last opportunity for
seeing his mother again and had missed introducing her to his wife.
Somehow he kept up his end of the song, and when it was over,
Jesse took a shovel and scooped dirt into the hole.
Cay knelt and buried his face in the dog's fur.
Hermie and another hand stepped forward to take over the task, but
Jesse refused their help. This was his job. "You can all head back
now," he told the gathering. "I'll finish here."
One by one, the hands went back to their chores, the women to
their tasks, and Sam settled his hat on his head and took Amy's arm to lead her
away.
Only Cay stayed until the grave was filled. Then he released the
dog and stared at the fresh mound of dirt, his throat working.
Jesse wiped perspiration from his forehead and watched as Cay got
down and used his hands to smooth the dirt. He sat back on his haunches, his
gaze moving to the two wooden markers bearing Shelby names. Jesse anticipated
the question.
"Who're Vanessa and Tim?"
Jesse tucked his handkerchief away. "Vanessa's Amy's mama.
Tim's our boy."
That answer seemed to be enough, but there was more on his mind
because he frowned and asked, "What about a marker for Gran?"
"You can help me make one." Jesse worked the other two
crosses from the hard-packed ground. "These need a new coat of paint while
we're at it."
It didn't take long to make a simple wood cross, paint Jesse's
mother's name on it and freshen the paint on the other two markers. He and Cay
had all three finished and set into the ground by supper. They stood side by
side on the hill, each lost in his own thoughts.
Jesse took moderate comfort in the fact that his mother and Amy's
mother lay on either side of his son. They weren't really there, he reminded
himself, and glanced up at the sky where the sun headed for the horizon. Take
care of each other.
"Well, I'm hungry, how about you?" he asked Cay.
The boy shrugged and followed him to the basins beside the porch
to wash.
During the meal, Sam brought Jesse up to date on the travelers
who'd been through while he was gone. Amy took special care in placing the best
pieces of meat on Jesse's plate and freshening his coffee. If she stopped long
enough to lay a hand on his shoulder or lean against him, the last shred of his
brittle soul would shatter.
As it was, the ache inside grew like a hunger he couldn't seem to
appease. When he'd finished eating, he pushed back his chair and waited as the
others filed out.
Only Mrs. Barnes remained, and she was busy washing pans in a tub
of suds.
"Come here, Amy," he said, and motioned for her to
follow him toward the back room, which he unlocked.
She hung back until he gestured again, and then she entered
hesitantly. He closed the door, confining them in the small space.
Amy clasped her hands before her and waited, her expression
impassive.
Jesse knelt to the bags he'd stored there for lack of a better
place. Among his mother's clothing had been her jewelry and personal things. He
took out a silver case engraved with roses and stood to hand it to Amy.
"This is for you."
It took several seconds for her to accept the box. She ran her fingers
over the top. "It was your mother's."
"There are a few pieces inside. Go ahead and look."
She opened the hinged lid, revealing a few brooches, a locket and
two pairs of earrings.
"You don't have to wear them if you don't like them."
She raised her gaze. "I do like them, Jesse."
"Well. I want you to have them."
Amy owned jewelry that had belonged to her mother, as well. If
they had a daughter, she would inherit the pieces someday. None of the items
was particularly valuable, except for the sentiment they held. Jesse didn't say
what he was thinking. They didn't talk about things like that anymore, and
chances for more children were slim. Their plans for the future and a family
were all buried
She would have loved Amy. Wrestling with regret was a waste of time and energy,
but Jesse tussled with his feelings anyway. He'd lost his last opportunity for
seeing his mother again and had missed introducing her to his wife.
Somehow he kept up his end of the song, and when it was over,
Jesse took a shovel and scooped dirt into the hole.
Cay knelt and buried his face in the dog's fur.
Hermie and another hand stepped forward to take over the task, but
Jesse refused their help. This was his job. "You can all head back
now," he told the gathering. "I'll finish here."
One by one, the hands went back to their chores, the women to
their tasks, and Sam settled his hat on his head and took Amy's arm to lead her
away.
Only Cay stayed until the grave was filled. Then he released the
dog and stared at the fresh mound of dirt, his throat working.
Jesse wiped perspiration from his forehead and watched as Cay got
down and used his hands to smooth the dirt. He sat back on his haunches, his
gaze moving to the two wooden markers bearing Shelby names. Jesse anticipated
the question.
"Who're Vanessa and Tim?"
Jesse tucked his handkerchief away. "Vanessa's Amy's mama.
Tim's our boy."
That answer seemed to be enough, but there was more on his mind
because he frowned and asked, "What about a marker for Gran?"
"You can help me make one." Jesse worked the other two
crosses from the hard-packed ground. "These need a new coat of paint while
we're at it."
It didn't take long to make a simple wood cross, paint Jesse's
mother's name on it and freshen the paint on the other two markers. He and Cay
had all three finished and set into the ground by supper. They stood side by
side on the hill, each lost in his own thoughts.
Jesse took moderate comfort in the fact that his mother and Amy's
mother lay on either side of his son. They weren't really there, he reminded
himself, and glanced up at the sky where the sun headed for the horizon. Take
care of each other.
"Well, I'm hungry, how about you?" he asked Cay.
The boy shrugged and followed him to the basins beside the porch
to wash.
During the meal, Sam brought Jesse up to date on the travelers
who'd been through while he was gone. Amy took special care in placing the best
pieces of meat on Jesse's plate and freshening his coffee. If she stopped long
enough to lay a hand on his shoulder or lean against him, the last shred of his
brittle soul would shatter.
As it was, the ache inside grew like a hunger he couldn't seem to
appease. When he'd finished eating, he pushed back his chair and waited as the
others filed out.
Only Mrs. Barnes remained, and she was busy washing pans in a tub
of suds.
"Come here, Amy," he said, and motioned for her to
follow him toward the back room, which he unlocked.
She hung back until he gestured again, and then she entered
hesitantly. He closed the door, confining them in the small space.
Amy clasped her hands before her and waited, her expression
impassive.
Jesse knelt to the bags he'd stored there for lack of a better
place. Among his mother's clothing had been her jewelry and personal things. He
took out a silver case engraved with roses and stood to hand it to Amy.
"This is for you."
It took several seconds for her to accept the box. She ran her fingers
over the top. "It was your mother's."
"There are a few pieces inside. Go ahead and look."
She opened the hinged lid, revealing a few brooches, a locket and
two pairs of earrings.
"You don't have to wear them if you don't like them."
She raised her gaze. "I do like them, Jesse."
"Well. I want you to have them."
Amy owned jewelry that had belonged to her mother, as well. If
they had a daughter, she would inherit the pieces someday. None of the items
was particularly valuable, except for the sentiment they held. Jesse didn't say
what he was thinking. They didn't talk about things like that anymore, and
chances for more children were slim. Their plans for the future and a family
were all buried
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