Chapter 32
When we separated, Oscar made a disgusted noise.
"Do you have to do that?"
Adrien looked at him.
"Probably not often."
"You better not."
"I'll negotiate with your mother."
I laughed so hard I had to hold the porch rail.
We married in December.
Small.
Simple.
Harlan baked the cake and complained the entire time.
Eli brought his wife and mother.
Peabody attended because banks apparently enjoy weddings when all notes are current.
Mrs. Talbot cried before I did.
Curtis came too.
He stood in the back with Oscar.
That was his choice.
After the ceremony, he approached me.
For one uncertain moment, we simply looked at each other.
Then he offered his hand.
"Mrs. Brandt."
I took it.
"Mr. Dunore."
He smiled.
"You look happy."
"I am."
His eyes moved toward Adrien.
"He good to you?"
"Curtis."
"Sorry."
He laughed.
"Old habits."
Then his expression softened.
"I'm glad."
I believed him.
He stayed in Kestrel Flat that winter.
He worked at the livery.
He never became rich.
He never became a different man overnight.
But he became more dependable.
Oscar spent some Sundays with him.
Sometimes Curtis disappointed him.
But he no longer disappeared.
When he failed, he came back the next day and said so.
That mattered.
Adrien and I made arrangements that caused half the territory to gossip.
I kept my father's land in my name.
Adrien insisted.
"Your father left it to you."
Some women in town thought that strange.
I did not care.
We spent part of each week at the Brandt place and part at my cabin until spring, when Adrien expanded the house near the ranch and built a room for Oscar overlooking the east pasture.
Clover came with us.
Of course she did.
Oscar walked her the entire eleven miles.
Adrien offered a wagon.
Oscar refused.
"She knows the way."
Apparently she did.
The following May, one year to the week after Adrien first rode into my yard, I stood outside the Brandt springhouse turning cheese.
Oscar came running.
"Mama!"
I looked up.
He was eight now.
Still small.
Still sandy-haired.
Still capable of asking enough questions to exhaust a preacher.
"What?"
"Clover's calf is coming."
I dropped everything.
We ran to the pasture.
Adrien was already there.
Clover lay in the grass, sides heaving.
The birth took an hour.
Oscar sat beside me the entire time.
At last a wet red calf slid into the world.