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“Yes, and I told you I hadn’t gone past a few kisses with her. I was telling the truth.”
“Were you?” She shook her head. “I found out today that Gerda is pregnant. She named you as the father.”
His swollen face paled. “No! She’s lying, Kristin. I swear on my life! I never touched her, not that way.”
“I wish I could believe you. But you’ve been seen with her. And knowing what you did before—same family, different sister—people will be talking.”
“I know how it looks.” Mason raked a hand through his hair. “But so help me God, I’m innocent this time. I knew from the start that she wanted me to get her pregnant, so I’d have to marry her. But I didn’t fall for her scheme. I knew better. That baby isn’t mine!”
He slumped forward, his arms resting on his knees, his hands clasped so hard that the knuckles had gone white. For a long silent moment, he stared out over the fields at the deepening sunset. At last, with a shudder, he spoke. “Good God, her father is going to kill me.”
He was right—literally, Kristin thought. Lars had already threatened to kill him. When the big Swede learned that another daughter was pregnant, he wouldn’t come after Mason with his fists. He would come with a shotgun.
“You could marry her,” Kristin said. “It would quell the gossip and placate Lars. Besides, she’s a beautiful girl. How bad could it be?”
“Tolerable for me, maybe. But I’m not good husband material. I’d only make her miserable. And I don’t know if I’m up to raising another man’s child.”
“Your brother did it. And he loves Joseph like his own.”
“That’s a low blow, sis.”
“Maybe it is. But in case you need a reminder, you abandoned Hanna’s baby when you got on that train. And you have no right to him now—not even as a so-called uncle.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”
“I think you do. Whatever’s going on here, Mason, leave Joseph alone. He knows about you and he’s reaching out. If you let him get close to you, you’ll only hurt him in the end.”
He glanced away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He was clearly lying. Maybe he’d lied about Gerda, too. Fighting anger, she stood. “Then maybe you should get back on that train. It would do us all a world of good. I’ve said what I came to say. Now I’ll leave you to figure things out for yourself.”
With that, she turned away, walked down the steps, and out through the gate to her auto. She didn’t look back. She didn’t want Mason to see her tears. She could only hope that someday he would learn his lesson. But how many hearts would he break along the way?
* * *
Cully had caught four nice-sized trout that were stranded by the low water in the creek. He had quick hands. He was able to grab each one and toss it, live and flopping, into the bucket he’d brought. The last one was still gasping when he mounted his horse and turned for home. He was in rare high spirits. His parents would praise him, and the fresh fish would make a tasty meal tonight.
He should have known that the happy feeling wouldn’t last. It evaporated when he saw his father standing on the front stoop, a furious expression on his face.
As Cully dismounted with the bucket, Angus strode toward him. He shrank inside as he saw the bills clutched in his father’s hand.
“This is what your mother found under your mattress! Where did you get this kind of money, Cully? Did you steal it? Can I expect the sheriff to show up here and arrest you?”
His free hand flashed out and slapped Cully on the side of the head. Cully saw stars as he lost his balance and went down. The bucket flew from his hand, spilling the fish in the dirt. He sat up. From the open doorway, he could hear his little sister crying.
“I didn’t steal it, honest, Pa,” he said. “I earned it.” Cully could see his mother gathering up the fish and carrying the bucket to the pump to wash them.
“Earned it? How, in God’s name? You’re only a boy.” Angus was still angry, but Cully detected a gleam of interest in his eyes.
Knowing he’d be found out and punished if he lied, Cully had no choice except to tell the truth. Little by little, with some prodding, the story spilled out of him. By the time he’d finished, his father was pacing with excitement.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? If I’d gone with you, we could’ve made twice as much. Let me know when your boss has another shipment coming. I’ll tag along. Since I’m older and stronger, he might pay me extra. Maybe he’ll even give me a sample to take home.”
Cully stifled a groan. His friends wouldn’t like his dad showing up. The boss would like it even less. One more person in the mix, especially a talker like Angus, would only raise the chances of something going wrong.
There’d been no black ribbon on the fence for several weeks now. Maybe the shipments had stopped. Or maybe the boss had decided to stop hiring kids as helpers. Now that he wouldn’t get to keep the money he’d earned, that was all right with Cully. Unloading cases of bootleg liquor and guiding the truck had been a fun adventure. But it wasn’t worth getting arrested and sent to reform school.
Now that he’d finished the sixth grade, his school days were probably over. Joseph and Chase, and maybe Buck, too, would either travel to Miles City for more schooling or continue their studies by correspondence at home. The summer days spent riding, fishing, and swimming would soon be over. His friends would drift away, and Cully would have only his family. His father would expect his full-time help on the ranch. It wasn’t much to look forward to. But then, nothing good ever happened to a boy like him.
