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If he was going to act, it had to be now. With practiced speed, he pulled his knife from his belt, and threw it, while at the same time he rolled to the ground. Henry cried out when the knife struck his hand, and the pistol fired, the bullet sending splinters of wood in the air from where it hit the floorboard. Evelyn screamed, and the baby began to cry. Alex sprang up from the ground, and ran toward Henry. He rammed into him, and slammed him into the wall. Grabbing him by the shirt, he nearly lifted him off the ground.
“Today is the last time you’ll ever threaten me, or my wife and family again,” he growled, his face inches from Henry’s. Shocked and wide-eyed, his former friend stared back at him, then suddenly began to laugh.
“Go ahead, Alex. Kill me. I know it’s what you want to do.”
Alex sneered. “I’d like nothing more than beat you into the ground,” he growled.
“Then why don’t you? Isn’t that what your old man loved to do?”
“I’m not my father,” Alex said between clenched teeth. He yanked Henry away from the wall, and pushed him toward the door, and out into the hall. He caught a glimpse of Charlie rushing toward them from the main room. He held a pistol in his hand, and aimed. Before Alex realized what he intended, Charlie fired, and Henry slumped to the ground. Alex stared. Nothing made sense any more.
“This time my aim was true. This is the man I should have shot a year ago,” Charlie said. His chest heaved, a fierce gleam in his eye.
“Alex?” Evelyn called frantically from inside the room. Alex turned his head in her direction.”
“I’ll be right there,” he answered to ease her worry, then directed his gaze back at Charlie.
“I love her,” Charlie said quietly, looking at Alex. “Since Henry brought her back, it’s become clear that I’ll never win her heart. You have always been in possession of that. Make sure you treat her well.” Charlie met Alex’s stare for a moment, then bent down to grab hold of Henry’s lifeless body. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Charlie,” Alex called. He held out his hand. Charlie glanced at it, then reached forward and shook it. “My father owned 125 acres of good farm land. I don’t know what shape the house is in, but combined with this place, you’ll have quite a nice spread. It’s yours, if you agree to let Evelyn remain here until she is recovered from the birth.”
Charlie nodded slowly. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
A silent understanding passed between the two. Charlie reached down once again, and grabbed hold of Henry’s legs, dragging his lifeless body down the hall and out of the house.
Alex turned on his heels and rushed back into the room. Evie struggled to sit up, and console the crying infant in her arms.
“Is he . . . is Henry . . .?”
Alex nodded, not letting her finish her thought. “I’m sorry, Evie. I didn’t want it to end like this. Henry was your brother, after all.” He sat at the edge of the bed. His eyes searched her weary face, and silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
“He’s someone I didn’t know anymore, Alex,” she said barely above a whisper. “I can’t help but think he would have always tried to find a way to hurt us.”
“I want to wrap you in my arms and hold you,” he said as quietly as he could and still be heard above the baby’s cries. Evie sniffed, and smiled.
“Perhaps you should hold your son instead.” She held the swaddled infant toward him, and a jolt of apprehension rushed through him. He swallowed, and tentatively held out his arms. Bending forward, he gathered the bundle to his chest. An intense feeling of love and pride rushed through him, and he gazed down into his son’s red and angry face. Alex stood and moved around the room, slowly swaying his arms back and forth while holding the bundle close to his heart. What if he held him too tight? What if he dropped him?
The baby suddenly stopped crying, and his little lips quivered and puckered. His eyes closed, and he appeared to be content.
Alex looked toward Evie, who watched him intently. A smile spread across her face. “I knew you’d be a great father,” she said. Alex grinned back at her.
“What should I do now?” he asked.
“His bassinet is ready for him.” She pointed to a wicker basket that Alex hadn’t noticed before, on the other side of the bed. Slowly, Alex walked around the bed. He didn’t want to let go of his son, but he also wanted to hold the child’s mother in his arms. Carefully, he placed the infant in the basket, and straightened. Observing his sleeping son for another moment, he tore his eyes away and turned toward Evie. He sat on the bed, and gathered her into his arms.
