"Pa?"
"Yes, son?"
"Why did Em'ry have to leave Montreal? This man who took her and her friends in, why would he suddenly let them go?"
"I can't imagine, Mark. Maybe he lost his income, or he got into trouble himself. The years after the war… I don't know much about what was happening in the northern Territories."
He'd missed that part of her story.
"Pa, she's real smart, isn't she?"
"Yes." He bent over his book again.
"Pa, she went to our waterfall to get clean."
"I heard, Mark."
"She looked so sad."
"Son, back to your homework."
….
"Pa?"
"Mark?"
"You explained the witness thing to me. But after she's done in Albuquerque, will she go north with Sam Buckhart and his lawyer friend and try to get her land back?"
"I should think so. Though I don't know if Sam will go to the northern territories. It's mighty far."
"But imagine the things they'll see!"
Lucas could see the wonders in his boy's eyes.
"And they always finished their homework when they were kids."
The sandy head bent over his wax tablet.
…
"But Pa!"
"What now, son?"
"The guitar! Who will teach me?"
"Mark, the way I see it, you're quite good already. You might go on by yourself. We can look around for books and …" what was the word? "… sheet music."
"But that's so expensive… She always wrote the scores down for me."
"You might start earning some money, playing, like in church."
"Yeah." - - - "I bet that's why she never sang with me. She claimed she had no ear for singing... but I never believed that. Her voice would have given her away…"
Her voice, her hands, her hair…
…..
"Mark?"
"Yes, Pa?"
"What was this wheel you were talking about with Emery?"
His son gazed out the window for a moment, something adult crossing over his features. "It was our secret… before. A waterwheel, big enough so that it could move a grindstone."
"A gristmill?" True astonishment left Lucas' mouth hang open for a heartbeat.
"Yes, a small one. So we could save money and time."
"Where?"
"Up in the direction where we found Tony and the upturned wagon. Not so far though, one wouldn't want to have to ride for more than a few minutes. Where there's the step in the river. We still have to build a shed around it."
"You had it all figured out?"
"Well, on paper and in our heads…"
…..
"Pa?" tentative this time.
"Son?"
"It's here eyes, isn't it? They're what make her him, true to herself."
"Did this sentence make sense to yourself, Mark?" Though to be honest, Mark's perception was shrewd.
"She'd have to always guard her moves, her words… though not here."
"Now what do you mean, Mark?"
"Eirik never held back with you, Pa. Not for a long while. Not since you were injured."
McCain just looked at his brooding son, the image of his dead wife.
"How come Em'ry is a woman suddenly, I mean her figure? She can't have hidden…"
Lucas grimaced, but had to give in. Better to plunge right through. "She bound her chest flat with bandages."
"Ah."
Her breasts… white in the firelight, topped with darker circles…
"Wouldn't that hurt?" Mark had tilted his head, expression nonplussed.
The rifleman slammed his book shut with sudden vigour.
"You finish your work. I'll prepare the bed in the barn for if Sam Buckhart doesn't stay in town."
…