Kid jumped at the report of a rifle. He wasn't normally jumpy over gunfire, but there was something about the sound of it in these woods that brought the terrible memory rushing back and he shivered not because of the gusty wind but because he wondered if he would ever be free of the guilt he felt.
A fat drop of water hit his hand through the cover of trees, reminding him that it wasn't the time to be thinking about that.
Ruth was looking at him sympathetically. "Better hurry, honey, if we're going to beat the rain."
He didn't realize he had stopped and he picked up the pace.
It started to really rain before they got back to the house. It poured down in sheets, lightened to drizzle, and then poured down sheets again as if it couldn't quite make up its mind what it wanted to do.
Ruth had managed to stay dry due to Eleanor's warning. Once her hat and cape were off, the only sign she'd been out in the rain was a slightly damp hem and muddy shoes. She removed her hat, cloak and shoes to keep from dragging the wet and muddy things through the house. Kid had no choice but to drip through the house to get to his dry clothes.
"What's that saying about not having enough sense to come in out of the rain?" Jed directed at Kid, who really was plastered with water.
"Hurry up and change before you catch your death of cold," Eleanor chided.
When he came out his mother had hot tea waiting on him.
He took the steaming cup from her, "Thanks, Momma. I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't have rushed out on you like I did."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Jed grumbled.
Kid took a deep breath desperately trying to avoid another fight.
They were all sitting, restless because of the rain, except for Eleanor and Millie who were busy working on lunch. The lighting was too dim to do anything intricate like sewing or reading. The only work inside at the moment was women's work and Wallace and Jed wouldn't help with that. The only thing left was conversation until the rain let up.
"I hope it doesn't ruin the field," Wallace grumbled, glowering at the rain through the windowpane as if he could intimidate it into stopping.
"We likely did start plowing too early. We might have to wait for it to dry out again before we finish," Jed said.
This was as close to a locked room as they could get and Ruth wondered if the rain wasn't God's answer. She didn't expect the 3 stubborn men in front of her would initiate anything. "I remember once my little brother made me so mad I could spit. He broke the cup and saucer my grandmother had given me. It was an heirloom that had come over with our family from Scotland and I'll never forget what my momma told me. She said that if I didn't forgive Clyde that my heart would turn hard and God wouldn't be happy with me. That things, even sentimental things, weren't more important than people."
"I hope you're not trying to compare a childish squabble with the death of Ben?" Jed asked with a glare.
"Of course not, but the principle's the same. Who are you hurting most by not forgiving, yourself, and how can you be forgiven by God for the things you've done if you refuse to forgive others?"
"There just wasn't no sense in it," Wallace said finally putting his two cents in. "I taught you boys how to use them responsibly. If you had listened to me for once in your life, Kenneth, Benjamin would still be here."
"You don't think I know that?" Kid asked. "I live with that knowledge every day of my life."
"As you should," Jed said cruelly.
Jed and Kid shouted more of the same back and forth each other and were on the verge of another physical fight.
"It was my fault!" Wallace yelled, bringing a sudden and complete silence. All heads turned to him, including Eleanor's and Millie's.
"Benjamin asked me to go that day, but I didn't," he said more quietly. "If I'd been there, it never would've happened."
Kid was shocked and didn't know how to respond. He never would've guessed his father blamed himself.
Tears were running down Eleanor's face. "It's past time we put all this behind us. Not forget about him," she said to Jed when he started to open his mouth, "but remember the good times together and recall that we will see Benjamin again. We can't none of us live on ifs. The past is what it is. With God's mercy, we'll heal as a family."
"I don't know if God is merciful," Wallace said.
"Wallace Edward Cole!" Eleanor said in disbelief.
"It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair." He zeroed in on Ruth. "You supposedly got all the answers. Tell me why would a merciful God take my boy before his time?"
Ruth didn't answer but only looked at him compassionately.
"What? Cat got your tongue for once? He's the one I blame the most," Wallace revealed.
"Have you told Him that?" Kid asked quietly. "I'm the last that should be sermonizing anybody, but I found that when I started talking to Him, He listened and He revealed to me His goodness. We may not always have the answers this side of glory, but that don't mean there are none."
Ruth gave a smile and nod of affirmation. She knew Wallace would hear it from Kid better than he would from her and she couldn't have said it better herself.
Wallace didn't reply, but he wept into his hands.
Eleanor came over and tried to put a comforting hand on her husband. At first he shrugged off her touch but when she tried again he accepted it. Tears he had long denied himself were shed.
When the weeping stopped after a couple minutes, he asked Kid, "Can you ever forgive me?"
Kid felt guilty that he hadn't said the words first, but he answered, "I already have." And he knew it was true. No one was promised a perfect father except in God. Some fathers' imperfection showed more than others, but he respected his father. He had always been an excellent provider and he was a good man at heart. "Will you forgive me?"
"I already have," he echoed. "I didn't mean what I said, son." Eleanor must have told him what he'd heard. "I would have been as broken up if it had been you. It was the drink and pain talking. That's no excuse I know, but it's the truth."
He wanted to believe it, but he wasn't sure he could.
"I love you," Wallace said.
He knew what the words had cost his father, a man who believed expressing feelings were a sign of weakness and was probably already kicking himself for the crying he had done. He treasured it all the more because of it. Three little words that didn't get said often enough, not ever in this house, but they could make all the difference in the world. "I love you too," he returned.