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“Sure. We’d love to hear them.” He put his hand on the head of the little boy who stood seriously beside him. “This is Timothy,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair.
“Good to meet you there, kiddo. You come out to help your dad with that truck?”
“Yep. He said he needed someone, and I was just the man for the job.”
James tried to keep a smile from spreading across his face. The little boy was just as serious as he could be.
“Mabel is here?” Silas asked, looking around.
“She was here, she shot me, then she left.”
A long pause.
“She shot you?”
“Yep.”
“Then I take it you didn’t really take my advice.” He grimaced. “Or my advice was just really, really bad.”
“Oh, I took your advice all right. It worked pretty well, too.”
“It did?” Silas asked, looking at the bandage on his foot again.
“Sure did. We’re engaged.”
Again, Silas’s eyes flew from the bandages on James’s foot to his face, searching it to see what in the world he was missing. “I think you’re serious.”
“I told you I had some stories for you. And I’m dead serious. About both. She shot me, and now she’s going to marry me.”
“If you guys have children, this is going to make a great story someday.”
“I guarantee it. It’s probably going to be my favorite one to tell too.”
“All right, Timothy, think we have a few minutes to listen to this fella tell us what happened today? It might involve a gunfight.”
“There was just one gun. And she had a hold of it. Not that I would have shot her if I had it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t have,” Silas said, glancing at him.
Timothy nodded seriously, and Silas settled himself down on the top step, where James had been sitting when Mabel fixed his foot.
Timothy sat himself down beside his dad and lifted a leg up, draping a forearm over it, imitating his dad’s position perfectly.
James proceeded to tell them the story of how he managed to get himself shot.
Silas laughed, shook his head, and laughed some more. “I don’t know. Either you’re the luckiest man alive, or God really thinks pretty highly of you.”
“I know. He’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted. I can’t complain at all.”
Just then, Aunt Carol came out, carrying three plates with cheesecake on them.
“I heard some male voices out here. Looks like Silas brought his best helper along. It’s a good thing I just made brownie cheesecake,” she said, going to Timothy first and offering him a plate.
Timothy lifted his eyes to his dad, his look eager.
Silas nodded, and Timothy took the plate. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Anyone who’s out helping his dad on a nice day like this instead of playing deserves a piece of brownie cheesecake.”
