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A few moments of silence passed, filled with regret and shock, before he continued. “Ma knew it was them. We packed up and escaped into the dark, with no place to go on a bitter cold night. We made camp toward morning, hiding in a stand of fir trees. Ma didn’t want me to start a fire, but she was so cold I ignored her. She insisted we move on, but she was weak and grew weaker. Three days later, she could barely walk. An old couple found us and took us to their farm. She died December twentieth. They helped me dig a grave in the frozen ground and we buried her there.”
“Oh, Brand. How awful.”
He shrugged, though he could not dismiss the pain of those dreadful days.
“The old couple was good to me. I stayed until spring. When I heard news of the Duggan gang at work nearby, I moved on.”
“And you’ve been moving on ever since.”
“Sometimes not soon enough.”
“You can make things different now.” Sybil squeezed his hand.
He didn’t remember turning his palm to hers, but her soft and narrow hand lay in his and he squeezed back. She offered so much hope, so much promise, but...
“Will you try?”
How could he refuse such a gentle plea? He let himself drown in her gaze and nodded, ignoring the toll of warning bells. The Duggan gang was dead, he told himself, to silence the discordant sound.
* * *
The next morning Sybil watched Brand ride into the yard, Dawg at his horse’s heels. He spoke to Eddie. They shook hands and Eddie pointed toward the barn.
Brand glanced up the hill and touched the brim of his hat.
She lifted her hand in a wave before he stepped into the barn. She glanced toward the sky. Thank you, God. She couldn’t stop smiling. Brand had decided to stay and work for Eddie.
Mercy nudged her, sending a jolt of surprise jolt thought her.
“I didn’t know you were there,” Sybil declared.
“I caught you mooning over that cowboy.”
She knew there was no point in arguing with Mercy, especially when it was true. Still, she wasn’t about to give her friend the satisfaction of agreeing. “Just admiring the nice day.”
Mercy laughed. “Of course you are. Maybe you’d like to go for a walk.”
Sybil longed to go to the barn and see what Brand meant to do. She’d like to ask Eddie if Brand had agreed to live in the bunkhouse. Instead, she turned from the window. “Shouldn’t we help Linette with the laundry?” She headed for the kitchen, where Linette had tubs of hot water set out. Soon the three of them were up to their elbows, scrubbing and rinsing clothes.
When Eddie came to the house for dinner the laundry was all out on the line, flapping in the cold breeze.
Linette, well aware of Sybil’s interest in Brand even though she’d done her best to hide it, waited until Eddie had filled his plate to ask the questions pressing at Sybil’s mind.
“Did Brand say how long he meant to stay?”
Eddie glanced up from his full plate. “Said it seemed a good place to spend the winter.”
Sybil barely contained her smile.
Linette beamed at her. “That sounds promising, doesn’t it?”
Sybil pretended a great interest in spreading butter on a hot biscuit.
Linette turned back to her husband. “Is he going to live in the bunkhouse?”
Sybil’s biscuit stopped halfway to her mouth. She couldn’t make her hand go any farther as she waited for the answer.
Eddie nodded. “He asked if Dawg could spend the nights in the barn, and when I said he could, Brand threw his bedroll on an empty bunk. He took the one nearest the door.” Eddie sounded as if that choice was significant, and Sybil suspected it was.
Mercy said the words for her. “Guess he wants to be able to run if he wants.”
“He has no need to run,” Sybil protested, even though she’d thought the same. Winter and then what? Would he move on, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her life?
“And every reason to stay.” Mercy chuckled.
Linette and Eddie exchanged one of their private smiles.
Grady, quiet until now, looked up from his plate. “He likes Sybil.”
All the adults except Sybil laughed. Her cheeks burned. It was on the tip of her tongue to protest, but knowing it was useless, she kept silent.
