Chapter 6
He wanted to come home to a house where someone noticed his arrival.
That evening, he visited Evelyn’s grave.
The cottonwood branches moved slowly above the simple headstone.
He stood with his hat in his hands.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Evie.”
The wind rustled through the leaves.
“Thought there wasn’t anything left in me for this.”
He looked toward the distant house, where warm light glowed through the kitchen window.
“She’s been through something terrible. I can see it every time someone raises their voice.”
Mason crouched beside the grave.
“And now I’m starting to care about her in ways I hadn’t expected.”
For three years, he had believed that loving another woman would somehow diminish what he had felt for Evelyn.
Now he wondered whether refusing happiness was the greater betrayal of everything she had been.
He touched the headstone.
“I wish you could tell me what to do.”
The cottonwood offered no answer.
But when he returned to the house, Clara had kept his supper warm.
And for the first time in three years, he didn’t feel guilty about smiling when he walked through the door.
The first sign that something was wrong came during breakfast.
Clara had been frying bacon when she suddenly dropped the fork and hurried outside.
Mason found her behind the porch, gripping a fence rail and breathing hard.
“Clara?”
She wiped her mouth.
“I’m fine.”
“You look sick.”
“Something I ate.”
He glanced toward the kitchen.
“You haven’t eaten yet.”
She looked away.
“Then perhaps it was something yesterday.”
Mason didn’t press.
But the incidents continued.
She began refusing morning coffee. Her face grew pale, and she tired easily. Sometimes he found her sitting unexpectedly, one hand resting against her stomach.
She blamed the heat.
Then the sleepless nights.
Then headaches.
Mason suggested sending for a doctor.
Her reaction startled him.
“No!”
He paused.
“Clara—”
“I don’t need a doctor.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Please don’t send for anyone.”
The panic in her voice was unmistakable.
Mason lowered his hands.
“All right. I won’t bring someone here without telling you. But if you’re seriously ill, we need to do something.”
She stared at the floor.
“I know.”
The words had become familiar, but now they sounded unbearably defeated.
A few days later, Mason rode into town for supplies.
As he passed the general store, he noticed Silas Rusk standing beside the hitching rail.