“He’s dying to see the roundup. You can tell him it’s his birthday treat. That way he won’t expect to go every day.”
“I’ll take him,” George said. “I’m just sorry I didn’t think of it.”
“You can’t think of everything. You’ve had a lot to worry you these last few days.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“It’s more than enough. Stop blaming yourself.”
George actually looked forward to having Zac with him. For a short while at least. Before he reached the branding corral, the boy had peppered him with so many questions he was tempted to take him back. By the end of the day he wished he had.
“You make sure to wash up extra carefully tonight,” George told Zac as they dismounted that evening. “If you don’t, Rose might not let you come to the table. You’re covered with enough dirt to plant a garden.”
“I got to pour the milk,” Zac protested.
“I’ll pour it. I’d rather do that than have to smell you all night long. Of course, if you get done in a hurry, you can still pour it.”
Zac was little, but he wasn’t stupid. He took twice as much time as he needed. Everyone had a chance to get to the kitchen before he did.
When he bounded in the door, he saw a cake with seven flaming candles and a stack of presents at his place. His eyes grew as big as saucers.
“Is it all for me?” he asked, looking from George to Rose.
“Every bit of it,” Rose assured him. “I don’t know of anybody else who has a birthday.”
“Wow!” Zac exclaimed. “I never got presents before. Or a cake.”
George knew he couldn’t have done anything about the birthdays Zac had missed, but it made him feel worse than ever. Even if he’d remembered Zac’s birthday, he’d never have thought of getting the child a present or of asking Rose to make a cake.
Yet she had thought of everything. But then she always did. It seemed to come naturally with her. And not just big things like birthdays. Hardly a day passed without her doing something. Even for Jeff.
She would be a perfect mother. The look of pleasure on her face as she watched Zac’s happiness made George feel good that she was enjoying herself, bad that her marriage to him was preventing her from having children.
“Chaps!” Zac shrieked when he unwrapped a very long brown package. “My own chaps.”
Zac threw himself on his big brother and hugged him until he nearly broke his neck.
“How did you know I wanted chaps more than anything else in the world?” he asked, his eyes shining with happiness. “I never told anybody.”
George opened his mouth to deny he had had anything to do with this wonderful surprise, but Rose shook her head ever so slightly. George realized that Zac would give her credit for the cake, but only a big brother could think of anything as wonderful as chaps. Rose wanted him to take the credit because Zac would like it better that way.
George swallowed his pride.
“What else could a man want when he has to ride through the brush?”
“But you won’t let me. Can I now?”
“If you don’t mind having Rose pick the thorns out of your hide.”
“She doesn’t pick out your thorns,” Zac pointed out. “She doesn’t pick out Hen’s and Monty’s either.”
“We don’t want her to see us cry,” George said.
“You don’t cry,” Zac said, laughing because he was sharing a joke with his big brother. “You don’t make a sound at all. It’s Monty who makes all the noise.”
“Rat on me, will you?” Monty said, making a playful grab for his little brother. Zac wisely hid himself in George’s arms.
“You and Tyler hold George down while I rip the little rascal apart,” Monty said to Hen. Hen and Tyler pretended to try to break George’s hold on Zac while Monty tickled every part of the little boy he could reach.
Zac shrieked with laughter.
After the older boys tired of their play and turned back to their dinner, Zac ventured from the safety of his brother’s arms to open his other presents. A shirt and a belt were cause for happy laughter, but a new pair of boots sent him jumping into George’s arms again.
“You’ll have to thank Rose this time,” George said, determined not to take any more credit no matter what Zac or Rose wanted. “She picked them out especially for you.”
It struck George all at once that Rose had been responsible for the happiest moments he’d enjoyed since he reached home. His brothers, too. He couldn’t remember when they’d laughed so much. Even Tyler.
More guilt that he didn’t love her. More guilt he couldn’t give her children.