Reading Online Novel

The Lincoln Myth(86)



His uncle’s voice had risen a few notches, the face scrunched tight.

“Maybe I get that from you.”

“Contrary to what you might think. I loved your daddy, and he loved me. We were brothers.”

“My daddy thought you were an asshole.”

“I was.”

That admission shocked him. So long as it was confession night, he wanted to know, “Why is it my mama has a soft spot for you?”

“I dated her first.”

He’d never known that.

“She dumped me for your daddy.” Danny laughed. “She always liked that. And to tell you the truth, I liked it, too. She was too damn good for me.”

He agreed, but for once kept his mouth shut.

“I regret what happened between your daddy and me. I regret what happened in my life in general. I lost my daughter.” His uncle paused. “But I think it’s time my nephews quit hating me.”

“You’ve spoken to my brothers?”

“Nope. I’m starting with you.”

“Have you visited Mary’s grave?”

His uncle stared back. “Not yet.”

“And you don’t see a problem there?”

Tension filled the room.

“We lost everything in that fire,” Danny said, the voice now low and distant. “Every picture. Every memory. Burned to ash.”

“And you acted like it never happened.”

For a moment, silence passed between them. Then Danny said, “All I have left is a vision of her in my mind.”

Luke didn’t know what to say.

The president’s eyes glistened.

He’d never seen emotion from this man before.

Danny stuffed a hand into his trouser pocket and removed a folded envelope, which he handed over. On the front, scrawled in blue ink, were the words FOR MY SONS.

Luke’s father’s handwriting.

Danny seemed to grab hold of himself and stood. “He gave that to me just before he died and told me to give it to his boys—whenever I thought the time was right.”

The president walked toward the door.

He watched the big man retreat, the door opening, then closing.

He stared at the folded envelope.

Whatever was inside had been written at least thirteen years ago. His first thought was that it should be read with his brothers present, but there was no way he could wait that long. His uncle had known he was coming here tonight, this moment apparently chosen to pass it along.

He smoothed the folds and tore open the seal. A single sheet of paper was inside, handwritten by his father.

He sucked in a breath and read.

So that the end would be peaceful and we could focus on saying our goodbyes I decided to say this from the grave. Nearly all my life my brother and I were at odds. Not only age separated us, but so many other things did, too. We never really bonded, as brothers should. What happened with Mary and my reaction to Danny’s grief has caused a lot of pain in this family. Your uncle can be tough. Sometimes even cruel. But that doesn’t mean he can’t feel. All of us deal with grief in different ways. His was to ignore it. My mistake was not allowing him to be himself. I want all of you to know that Danny and I have made our peace. He knows of my illness and, together, we cried at the mess we made of things. I want you to know that he’s my brother, I love him, and I want my sons to love him, too. He has no children and never will. The horrible loss he suffered is something I cannot comprehend. I blamed him and he resented me. But what happened was just an accident. I was wrong to think otherwise. We’re both sorry for what we did and we forgave each other fully and completely, as brothers should. He told me that there’s not a second of any day that he does not think about Mary. Never will that pain leave him. So my sons, let’s not add to that. Be good to your uncle. He needs you, though he’ll probably never admit that. So do this for me.



Tears dripped from his eyes.

His father was right.

The world knew nothing of Danny Daniels’ private pain. He’d always kept that to himself. Luke had somehow sensed that Stephanie might know something, but they’d never discussed the subject.

Danny had faced some tough stuff.

And all of us do deal with grief in different ways.

He felt like a fool.

Or more accurately, like a son scolded by his father.

“I did it,” he whispered to the page. “I made good. Like you wanted.”

The tears came faster.

He hadn’t cried in a long time.

He held the letter tight, knowing that his father had actually touched the paper. It was the last physical connection he would ever have. But he realized what his dad had meant. There was still another Daniels alive to whom they all had a connection.

Misunderstanding had kept them apart.

But that had to end.