They both spun toward the voice. The man wasn't much older than Kid but his frown lines made him appear a lot older. He had the same dark hair and eyes as Kid, but he wasn't quite as tall and he was fleshier.

"Jed," Kid acknowledged.

"How dare you show your face back here," his older brother railed at him.

Kid's face remained impassive and stone-like but the twitch along his jaw told Ruth the words pierced him. "I haven't come to stay if that's what you're worried about. I've found forgiveness in God and I want to make amends with my family too if possible."

"How convenient for you. You spout off a sorry for ending a life, wrecking all our lives in the process, and then you take off again. You don't have to see and deal with the pain and sorrow you've caused in Momma and Daddy's eyes. You even have the nerve to bring a woman with you. That's right I know all about how you've been living. Your exploits are famous and even make it into the papers around here. I've tried to shield them from it as much as I can."

"The papers greatly exaggerate and the old ways are behind me. I haven't even seen the inside of a saloon in months. And this lady is my wife."

Jed's features didn't soften with the news. "Well, we might as well get this over with. They'll want to see you in spite of it all."

He looked back at Ruth funny when he saw the words on the wagon, but he didn't comment. He got up on his horse and led the way to the house.

His parents were out in the yard, working. His mother was hanging laundry and his father whittling something of use. They believed the old adage that idle hands were the devil's playthings and they worked from sunup to sundown with little use for things like music, dance, or pleasure reading. Their hands stilled when they saw Kid though. They left their work and walked toward him. Ruth could see that Kid had gotten his tall, thin frame from his mother. His father was a short, stocky man.

"Kenneth," was all she said; it wasn't a glad cry just a surprised one. His father said nothing at all but his eyes that were full of judgment said it all.

If he'd harbored any hopes that it would be a happy reunion and that his impression of their harshness toward him had all been a big misunderstanding, they were quickly dashed.

He didn't no where to begin. He supposed the logical place was to begin with introductions. "This is my wife, Ruth McKenzie Cole."

Ruth flushed when his parents' eyes went to her midsection as if suspecting Kid had married her because he had to.

"I feel like I know ya'll already with Kid's stories," she said cheerfully, trying to break even a little of the tension.

"Kid?" his mother echoed.

"That's what I go by now," he explained. He didn't want to explain the nickname although it was probable if Jed had heard of his reputation, they'd all heard it.

"You never did like the name Kenneth," his father remarked.

It was true. It had always felt too stuffy and formal, the name for a perfect son, which he wasn't. He'd gladly accepted and grown used to the nickname Kid. At the moment though, it made him feel like a louse as if he were rejecting the people who'd given it to him.

He didn't feel as if he could satisfactorily explain his reasoning to them so he continued introductions, "This is my mother, Mrs. Eleanor Cole, and my father, Mr. Wallace Cole."

The formality of everything from the polite distance they were keeping to the full use of their names made it feel as if Kid were introducing her to someone besides his parents.

"I'm so happy to meet ya'll," Ruth said, the smile on her face feeling out of place but meaning it anyway. She's prayed for this meeting all the way from Virginia to Arkansas. She still had hope that God could move in this hard situation.

Kid and Ruth wondered if they would be invited inside as an awkward silence hung.

"You must be hungry," Eleanor said at last. It wasn't a question but a statement. She turned to go in and Wallace and Jed followed with Kid and Ruth right behind.

"Get Mildred," Eleanor told Jed and he returned with Kid's little sister.

Mildred or Millie, the pet name Kid had given her, had grown from the 10-year-old he remembered into to a young woman. Still lanky but taller and her dark blonde hair had darkened into brunette. He realized with a jolt that at 13 she was now the same age Ben had been when he'd shot him. He'd almost expected them all to be frozen in time like they were in his mind, but time had marched on as evidenced by his parents' graying hair.

It was a moment before the recognition came on his sister's features. Maybe he had changed as well. She didn't seem to know what to say to him anymore than any of the rest of them. She set down for supper with the rest. Wallace said a blessing that was short and to the point.

It wasn't particularly cold inside the house, but it felt so as no warmth radiated around the table. The meal was a silent affair, making the food seem dry and tasteless. Twice Ruth had to drink water for fear of the bread lodging in her throat. She almost would have preferred red-hot anger over this cold aloofness, at least things would be out in the open. None of this kept her from trying to spark casual conversation several times, which was met with them looking at her as if she'd spouted another head, although she thought Mildred regarded them both with more curiosity than hostility. In fact, she almost seemed on the verge of smiling once but seemed afraid to. Had it always been this way in the Cole household or was it a result of their loss?

"I suppose ya'll will want to stay the night?" Wallace asked when supper had concluded.

It was the last thing she wanted to do, Kid either by the looks of him, but had they come all this way to give up so soon.

"If it's not too much trouble, sir," Kid answered.

He grunted as if it was too much trouble, but he said, "The room you shared with Ben hasn't been touched."

Kid's legs felt wooden as he walked toward the room with Ruth, but he had come to face the past and it was just a room. Did he expect Ben's ghost to be haunting it? Sometimes though the ghosts in your head were worse than anything that could be found in reality.