Chapter 9
Adrien Brandt returned at nine the next morning.
Curtis arrived at eight-thirty.
That told me nearly everything I needed to know about both men.
Adrien had said he would come.
Curtis had not.
I was in the garden pulling weeds when I heard hoofbeats.
Oscar was carrying kindling.
He looked toward the track.
His face changed before mine did.
"Papa."
Curtis rode into the yard with a paper sack tied behind his saddle.
He had shaved.
His brown coat had been brushed.
He looked more like the man I remembered and, because of that, more dangerous to my judgment.
Memory is not love.
But the body sometimes takes time to learn the difference.
He dismounted.
"Morning."
I straightened.
"I told you we would decide today."
"That's why I'm here."
"I meant I would decide whether you saw Oscar again."
His mouth tightened.
"I brought him something."
Oscar had already come closer.
Curtis untied the sack.
Inside was a small wooden horse.
Store-bought.
Painted black with a white stripe on its face.
Oscar stared at it.
Curtis smiled.
"Thought you might like that."
Oscar accepted it with both hands.
"Thank you."
Something in Curtis softened.
That frightened me more than if he had remained careless.
A man can do terrible harm and still love someone.
Love does not make a man safe.
I had learned that too late.
Curtis crouched.
"You gotten tall."
Oscar looked confused.
He had not.
He was small for seven.
Curtis seemed to realize his mistake.
"You look like your granddad."
That, at least, was true.
Oscar turned the toy horse over.
"Do you know Clover?"
Curtis glanced toward the barn.
"Sure I do."
"She sleeps standing up sometimes."
"I know."
"And she doesn't like her right ear."
Curtis frowned.
"Since when?"
"Always."
"No, she used to like both."
Oscar looked toward me.
It was such a small thing.
But I saw his uncertainty.
I hated Curtis for it.
Not because he was wrong.
Because he had been gone long enough not to know what had changed, yet still answered as though he did.
I stepped closer.
"Things change."
Curtis looked at me.
"I've noticed."
Before I could answer, another horse appeared on the road.
Adrien.
Curtis stood.
His warmth vanished instantly.
Adrien entered the yard and dismounted.
He carried a leather ledger beneath one arm.
"Morning."
I wiped my hands on my skirt.
"Mr. Brandt."
"Adrien is fine."