After the Ashes(65)

He didn’t pause at her state of undress. “You bet, sunshine.” He reached down, scooped up his daughter, and set her in front of him.

“Hey, Pa, my friend Corey’s got an Indian horse,” said Chris as he appeared and ran to his father’s side.

A shrill whistle, followed by the thud of more galloping hooves, caught their attention a second time. Two mules stirred the settling dust all over again. Both riders dismounted before the young mules stopped moving. A girl, Alice—the oldest, if Braddock remembered correctly—smiled at her younger brother, Jason. “Beat you.”

The boy glared at his sister. “You cheated. I didn’t know we were racing until you took off after Pa. That doesn’t count, does it, Pa?”

Jay rolled his eyes and flashed his crooked, upside down grin at Braddock. “It’s worse than the war.” He turned back to his brood. “Would you all start acting like you’ve seen company before? They’re going to think we’re a bunch of wild savages." He set his naked daughter on the ground. “Beth, you need to keep clothes on this child.”

Braddock balled his hands in fists to keep from pressing them over his heart. Jay was back to his old self, almost. He finally had the courage to glance past Jay’s thighs, and he could see where his pants fell over the wooden prostheses—that’s what they called them at the hospital they’d finally gotten Jay to. Braddock swallowed and looked away. Jay might have finally accepted the inevitable, but Braddock had spent big hunks of time forgetting. He wasn’t ready for any of this. It was a mistake to come here.

“I was going to give her a bath.” Lorelei walked from the corner of the house. As she spoke, her gaze wasn’t on Jay. It was on Braddock. He feared she could see his weakness. See him crumbling around himself.

Beth swept her hand at his ragtag group. “These are Christopher’s friends. They need a place to stay.”

“Well, they’re welcome here,” Jay said, as if there were no question about it.

“Before you make up your mind, we need to talk.” Braddock leaned forward. “In private.”

“If you want, Chris, but my mind’s made up. Beth, why don’t you take our guests inside and get them something to eat?”

His wife put her hands on her hips. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

Jay made the face again. Luckily he didn’t recognize Braddock’s discomfort and laughed at his wife’s aggravation. “I’ve learned not to argue with a pregnant woman.”

“I would hope you’ve learned something, as many times as you’ve had to deal with one.” Beth turned and marched toward the house. Archie rushed to her side to help her up the steps.

“I’m going to help Corey with the horses,” said little Chris.

“I’ll help him,” said Alice.

Little Chris’s face fell, and Braddock figured the boy was usually showed up by his older siblings. He unwrapped Lucky’s reins from the house’s railing. “I think you’d better handle Lucky, Chris. I bet he’d take to you, since we have the same name.”

The little boy swelled a couple of extra inches as he swaggered over with his father’s old walk to take Lucky’s reins. Braddock felt he had finally done something right.

The child smiled at Braddock, then at Lucky. “Don’t worry, Lucky. It’s just me, Chris,” he said as he led the giant horse away.

“Alice, you can take Malicah.” Jay shifted in his saddle.

The moment Braddock had been dreading was finally at hand. He moved forward swiftly, but not fast enough. Jay had already swung one thigh over the saddle horn. He lowered himself to the ground by gripping the saddle. His horse must have been well trained, because he didn’t even budge while Jay hung on to him for balance.

Braddock stopped, not knowing what to do. No one else moved to Jay’s aid. His daughter absently held his horse’s reins, unconcerned with her father’s struggle. Jay’s older son and wife had already disappeared with Archie, and little Chris seemed more concerned with Lucky than anything else in the world.

Braddock’s gaze strayed to Lorelei. Her brow furrowed, but her concern was directed at Braddock, not Jay. She must see his panic, the sweat beading above his lip.

Jay regained his balance, then lurched toward the house without so much as the use of a cane. Braddock could do little more than watch him in fascinated horror. Half of him was thrilled to see Jay on his feet; the other half howled for the loss of the man’s healthy swagger.

Jay’s oldest daughter led their draft horse to the barn without giving her father a second look. They all must be used to his painfully jerky stride. Every move Jay made twisted a rusted length of barbed wire running the length of Braddock’s body—a length of barbed wire laid the day Braddock led his friend into a field full of buried shells. A length of barbed wire that festered every time he thought of Jay and the accident.