Chapter 18
That surprised me.
Adrien did not react.
I watched cottonwoods slide past.
"He thinks wanting to return is the same thing as earning a return."
Adrien said nothing.
"I loved him once."
Still nothing.
I almost became irritated.
"You have no opinion?"
He glanced at me.
"I have several."
"Then why are you silent?"
"Because none of them are useful."
That was the most Adrien answer imaginable.
I laughed.
He smiled.
It changed his whole face.
For a moment he looked younger.
When he stopped smiling, I missed it.
"He has been decent with Oscar lately," I said.
"That matters."
"It does."
"Doesn't mean you owe him the rest."
I looked at him sharply.
Adrien's jaw tightened.
"That one slipped out."
"I'm glad it did."
His gaze met mine.
Something opened between us.
Quiet.
Dangerous.
Not desire exactly.
Recognition.
Then the buckboard topped the final rise.
My cabin appeared below.
Curtis stood in the yard.
His face changed when he saw us arrive together.
The warmth disappeared from me.
Adrien pulled up.
I climbed down.
Curtis looked at him.
"Private driver now?"
Adrien's expression remained neutral.
"Evening."
Curtis ignored him.
I turned to Adrien.
"Thank you for the ride."
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
He drove away.
Curtis watched the buckboard until it vanished.
Then he faced me.
"You like him."
I walked toward the porch.
"Don't."
"You do."
"This conversation is none of your business."
"I'm trying to put my family back together while you're riding around with another man."
I turned.
"Our family is not something you are putting together."
"Oscar wants me here."
"Oscar wants a father."
"I am his father."
"Then act like one."
"I have been."
"For a month."
His face reddened.
"How long do I have to pay for leaving?"
The question stunned me.
He truly did not know.
"You think this is punishment?"
"What else is it?"
I walked back toward him.
"Do you know what happened the first winter after you left?"
He looked away.
"No."
"I burned the kitchen chairs."
His eyes returned to me.
"Three of them."
He looked toward the house.
"We ran out of split wood in January. The snow was waist high. Oscar had fever. I could not leave him long enough to cut enough."
"Rosalie..."
"So I burned one chair. Then another. Then another."
His face went pale.
"I didn't know."
"No."
"I would've come if I'd known."
"Would you?"