Chapter 26
Oscar looked between us.
"What?"
"Oscar."
"Then would Clover be yours?"
I could not form words.
Adrien set down the biscuit.
"No."
Oscar frowned.
"Why not?"
"Because marrying someone doesn't mean everything they own becomes yours to decide about."
Oscar nodded slowly.
"Good."
He ate.
I stared at Adrien.
He refused to look at me.
Five minutes passed.
Then Oscar asked, "Are you going to?"
I closed my eyes.
Adrien coughed.
"Eat your biscuit," I said.
Oscar did.
Adrien's shoulders moved.
He was laughing silently.
I kicked his boot under the table.
That only made it worse.
It was the first morning in years when laughter filled my cabin without making me afraid of what would follow.
Curtis stayed away for nine days.
On the tenth, Oscar found a note pushed beneath our door.
His father had taken work driving freight north.
The run would last six weeks.
He had left before dawn.
But this time he wrote first.
Oscar read the note twice.
"He said he'll come back."
"Yes."
"Do you believe him?"
I folded a towel.
"I believe he means to."
Oscar considered that distinction.
Then he put the note in the biscuit tin beside the divorce decree.
I did not ask why.
The summer moved forward.
The Brandt dairy operation grew.
So did something between Adrien and me.
Nothing dramatic.
That was what made it powerful.
He brought Oscar a broken saddle buckle once and taught him how to mend leather.
He never brought gifts after I told him Curtis had tried to buy forgiveness that way.
He listened.
When I said no, he heard no the first time.
When I disagreed, he did not punish the disagreement.
When I made a decision he disliked, he told me.
Then he let it remain mine.
One August evening, after we finished turning cheese in the springhouse, I found him waiting outside.
The sun was low.
The ranch glowed gold.
"Walk with me."
"Where?"
"Fence."
"Very romantic."
He stopped.
I stopped too.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Was that a complaint?"
My heart jumped.
"No."
"Good."
We walked.
At the far pasture, cattle grazed in tall grass.
Adrien leaned on the fence.
For a long time he said nothing.
Then he looked at me.
"I don't know how to do this well."
"Do what?"
"This."
My pulse quickened.
"You bargain for cattle every week."
"Cattle are easier."
"That must be flattering to me."