It was too early yet for planting but the dry, warm spell made it a perfect time to get a jump on the plowing, so Wallace and Jed had gone out to the fields. Eleanor and Mildred had gone to help with a church bazaar.

Kid and Ruth had offered to help, but they'd been turned down and were left to their own devices.

"Well, might as well see to the horses," Kid said. "We can at least keep from making more work."

While Kid saw to it that their horses got food, water, and some grooming, Ruth decided to help them out by cleaning out the stalls. In the middle of her sifting, Kid called, "Ruth, come see this."

She leaned her pitchfork against the wall and went over to where he was standing in front of Carmel.

"Looks like the old girl isn't quite as old as we thought. She'll be dropping a foal in a month or two," he said, giving Carmel's side a pat.

"You sure?" she asked, crouching down like he was and trying to see what he was seeing.

"See how her back's swaying a bit and she's gotten fuller down below."

"I just thought she was getting fat off the grass and getting a swayback from her age. Well, what do you know?"

"You're so beautiful," he said adoringly and seemingly out of the blue. He wasn't just thinking about her looks; he was thinking about how she was being so supportive through this and being patient with him and his family.

"Only someone raised on a farm would say that. I'm sweaty and I smell like hay and maybe worse things," she said though she'd been careful not to step in the muck. She noted a stray piece of straw caught in the fold of her sleeve and pulled it off.

He gave her a smile that she'd learned to recognize.

"You can't be serious," she said though she was grinning as she said it.

"Why not? You heard them. Momma and Millie are going to be helping at the church most of the day. Daddy and Jed are plowing. They won't take a break until lunch. We got the whole morning to ourselves."

"You're plumb out of your mind. Here in this barn? With the animals?"

"They won't mind. If it helps, we can get in the back of the wagon or find a grassy knoll somewhere like we've been doing." He smiled at how he could still make her blush even after being married for half a year. "Maybe I'll just throw you over my shoulder and carry you up to the loft. You couldn't ask for a more private nook than that." He picked her up and started toward the ladder.

"And break our necks in the process." She giggled. "Put me down, Kid," she said playfully thumping his back.

"Your wish is my command." He let her drop into his arms and then pulled her into a fervent kiss. He gradually slowed the pace down, pulling some much needed comfort from her lips until he ended it with teasing licks and lip pulling that left them both aching for more.

"Maybe I should throw you over my shoulder," she teased with a laugh as she held her arms lazily around his shoulders.

He gave an answering laugh. "I wouldn't have any complaints."

They smiled at each other, foreheads touching as they caught their breaths.

Wallace cleared his throat and Kid quickly set her down on her feet, his face flaming and desperately hoping his father hadn't been standing there for very long. A wave of guilt washed over him when he saw his father's accusing expression, guilt that he was happy and guilt that he was doing what his brother should have been doing which was marrying and taking the gospel out west.

"Sorry, sir," he apologized.

"Well, I'm not sorry," Ruth said honestly. "I was kissing my husband and sharing in some much needed laughter, so I have nothing to be sorry for."

"Ruth," Kid hinted, seeing his father flush red not from embarrassment but from anger. He wasn't used to folks standing up to him very often, not under his own roof anyway.

"No, I'll apologize when I've done something wrong. If you want to hold onto your misery that's your business, but don't begrudge people who've found a way to move on. I didn't know Ben, but I know he wouldn't want this. He would want this family to forgive each other and grow stronger in love. And more importantly, it's what the Lord wants."

"You speak for the Almighty?" he asked scornfully.

"I don't have to. His Word does."

He scoffed. "This is what happens when you give a woman a Bible, she thinks she can tell everyone what to do. This has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it."

He left without getting whatever it was he had come in to get before she had a chance to respond.

She was about to remark on his father's behavior, but she saw the haunted look in his eyes.

"It should have been me," he said, his voice wracked with pain.

"What'd you say?" She'd heard it, but she couldn't believe it.

"That's what my father said."

"Your father said that to you?" She realized she sounded like a parrot, but she couldn't begin to process it with the loving father she'd had growing up. It was one thing to wish a loved one back and another to want to sacrifice one son for another.

"I overheard him telling my mother that before I ran away and she didn't disagree. And you've heard what Jed thinks. I don't know about Millie, but I imagine with everyone else's thoughts on the matter…she hasn't even spoken to me. But I deserve it. All of it. It should have been me." He'd backed himself against the wall and was looking away, unable to face her.

She wasn't about to leave it at that. "Are you questioning God?"

"No, I just—I'm forgiven and I know that. I thank God for that mercy daily, but I still have to live with the consequences of my mistake. That can't be erased. Not in this life anyway."

"I'm not saying what happened was good and right, but you're alive because God has something in mind for you to do and Ben is with God because that's where he's supposed to be. God doesn't make mistakes. Think about Moses, David, Paul."

"Are you trying to say I'm some kind of Biblical hero? I'm just an ordinary sinner saved by grace."

"What I'm saying is that they weren't great people either; they were just ordinary sinners. God simply called them to do great and extraordinary things through His power. Every one of those men took a life. Paul was involved in the death of Stephen, one of God's own. Your life didn't end that day. You can't live like it did. You have to let the past be the past and focus on the present, but maybe you weren't ready for this trip. Maybe your family's not ready. All you have to do is say the word and we'll leave," she said, extending the same offer he'd given her.

"No, this is something I have to do. Despite the obstacles, I have a feeling the timing is right. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not letting me wallow in self-pity. I've done some thinking. Monday's the anniversary of his death. I want to fix a big dinner for them. Momma shouldn't have to cook on that day and maybe we'll be able to talk about Ben. Will you help me? If I do the cooking, I'm libel to finish them all off."

She smiled, glad to see he'd recovered his dry wit. "I'd love to and I think it's a great idea."