bread with the other. She smiled at his baby and
Brant got to see her beautiful teeth. He couldn't believe how much a smiled
changed her face from plain to pretty. She looked up, still smiling, and his
heart somersaulted.
"That food looks mighty good," he
said, just to have something to say.
"You must be starving after working so
hard." Abby licked bread crumbs from her fingers.
Brant had a sudden vision of lifting her fingers
to his lips and licking the crumbs away himself. He looked quickly across the
yard. "Guess I'll go find Jenny and Luke and see what they're up to."
Glancing around he spotted Jenny sitting with
her girlfriends, each one trying to out talk the other. He didn't see Luke
anywhere. Walking to the corral, he rounded a shed and found him reclined
against the slats, staring into space, an open novel on his lap. His heart
softened for the boy who was the spitting image of himself, and instead of
berating him for being antisocial asked, "Is that a good book?"
Startled, Luke turned and then composed his
features into bland indifference. "Yeah, it's pretty good."
Brant had a sudden inspiration. "Have you
ever considered writing stories yourself?"
Luke gave him an incredulous look. "What?
Me write a book?"
"Sure, why not? Since you love reading so
much, why not write your own adventure tales?"
For once, Luke didn't seem to have a retort.
Brant started to turn around, but stopped.
"You know, Miz Abby bein' a teacher and all, she could help if you got
stuck on words."
A closed expression came over Luke's face.
"I don't want nothin' from her, and I sure don't want her to be my ma. My
ma's dead."
Brant sighed. "That's right, son. How many
times do we have to have this discussion? Your ma's dead, but you're not.
You've got your whole life ahead of you and your ma would want you to be happy.
She'd also want your brother and sister taken care of."
"Would she want you sleepin' with another
woman?"
Brant narrowed his eyes. "I can't believe
you just said that."
"Well, would she?"
"She'd want me happy, Luke. And if that's
what it involves, the answer is, yes." Brant walked away from his son.
At dusk, kerosene lanterns were lit in the new
barn and everyone crowded inside intent on having a good time. The fiddlers
tuned up and the hard working ranchers pulled out jugs of liquor while young
bucks eyed young ladies and visa versa. Babies and small children were
relegated to a corner and made to lie on blankets while mothers hovered nearby.
One of the fiddlers called out the name of a
tune and tapped the body of his instrument with his bow, setting the timing.
The other fiddlers joined in and lively notes filled the barn. Young couples
rushed to the middle of the floor and started showing off their moves. Older
couples and children danced on the fringes.
Brant watched Jenny dancing with Tommy, a boy
her age, and laughed when he stepped on her toes and she yelled,
"Ouch!"
Near the entrance to the barn he saw Luke
leaning against the frame and watching the festivities. Marylou, one of Cora's
girls, approached his son and said something. Luke shrugged and actually smiled
at the girl. When he sat on a bale of hay and motioned for her to join him,
Brant heaved a sigh of relief and then moved his gaze to the far corner with
women and small children. Abby sat in a chair holding a sleeping Ty in her
arms. Walking over, he said, "Let me lay him down so you can dance."
"Oh, goodness, no. I haven't danced in
years. Besides, I don't know these steps."
He lifted his baby from her lap and laid him on
a nearby blanket. "Will you watch him, Peggy Lynn?" he asked a young
mother.
"I shore will," she gave him a
conspiratorial wink.
Brant placed a hand under Abby's elbow.
"Come on, Miz Abby so I can teach you these dance steps."
"I really have two left feet."
"Well, I have two right feet. So I guess
that balances things out." He urged her from her chair and escorted her to
the dance floor. Pulling her into his arms, he
Learning to Kill: Stories