“I’m sorry to hear that, Cyrus. But you know us. You know me. We’d never—”
“I thought I knew you, Downing.” He shook his head as if disgusted by the sight of us. His eyes couldn’t seem to find a spot to focus on, drifting back and forth like puffs of dandelions dancing in the wind. “I assumed it was your boy at first, working alone, but now I wonder….If you think destroying my stock will get me to vote for that damned supply run, you’re sadly mistaken. I’ve got money—lots of money—and I’d sooner buy out the whole of McCleary’s and watch the town starve than ever agree with the likes of you.”
Mama let out a slow hiss, shaking her head. “You’re the one mistaken. No one in my family would ever do such a thing. You’re wrong.”
Cyrus’s lips pulled into a grimace. “I’m not wrong about your boy. It’s a damn shame she was, though.”
Papa frowned, clearly puzzled. “She? Who’s she?”
“My Rebecca.”
“Why would Samuel do anything to harm Rebecca? He’s been courting her half the summer.”
“You call that courting? Sneaking out of the house, shirking her chores so she can fool around in the hayloft with your boy? And now he says he never wants to see her again. Says he never wanted her for a wife. So that’s the end of that. She’ll never find herself a man with the stink of your boy all around her.” He looked to Papa, eyes glassy and vague. “I bet that gave you a great laugh, didn’t it? First your son destroys my daughter, her good name, her future, and then you go and try to wreck mine. You’ve been plotting this for years.”
“Gideon has been in the fields all day,” Mama said, her finger twitching on the trigger. “I think you ought to reevaluate your story.”
Cyrus held up his hands, palms open and questioning. “But I don’t see your boy here. Where is he? You can’t deny the part he’s played in this. Soon everyone will see evidence of his sins—my daughter won’t be able to keep them hidden forever.”
Mama gasped. “She’s not…Surely you don’t mean…”
“She’s in the family way, there is no question of it.”
“But we don’t know that Sam—” Papa stopped as Mama glared daggers at him.
“Cyrus, I don’t know what we can say to ease any of this, but Rebecca will not go through this alone. Of course they will be married—Samuel will do his part and—”
“He’s already done his share. That boy will bring us all down.”
“Now, look you here,” Papa said, standing over Cyrus and pushing his pointer finger into his chest. His face was red, and I saw his hands trembling with rage. “It’s a terrible thing that has happened, but your daughter played just as big a part in it.”
Cyrus scoffed. “I should never have let that good-for-nothing into my home. I knew he was trouble from the moment I saw him toddling about the yard, hanging on to his mother’s apron straps. He was always weak. Weak, spineless, without an ounce of character in him. But I don’t suppose it’s all his fault. You can’t blame the apple for the tree’s worms.”
Papa narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Samuel has committed some very grave mistakes—but as God is my witness, he was not in your storeroom.”
“Don’t waste your breath. There’s only one way to be certain. He will go before the Elders, look them in the eyes, and speak his truth. Then they’ll see. Then they’ll judge. You can try to secret away all sorts of sins in the dead of night, but you can’t hide a guilty conscience. Not from the Elders, not from the Falls. Now…for the last time, where is he?”
Papa stared at him, hardening his face. But after a long moment, he glanced to Mama, giving away his uncertainty.
“Ha!” Cyrus pounced. “You don’t know either! The Elders can decide for themselves. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a hanging….Isn’t it funny how the wheels of history turn?”
Glaring at us with contentious triumph, Cyrus veered toward town, and ran straight into Samuel’s fist. He’d appeared suddenly, running up from the side yard when no one was watching. A spray of blood and teeth burst through the air, and the late afternoon sun turned the droplets to shimmering rubies.
Recovering with remarkable efficiency, Cyrus whirled around and swung at my brother, bringing him to the ground as they traded blows.
“Sam!” Papa rushed over to pull him off Cyrus but was struck across the face by an errant fist. Papa persisted, grabbing Samuel by the waist and hoisting him free of the brawl. “We never settle anger with violence.”
“I didn’t do a thing to that storeroom, and that baby is not mine,” Sam protested, squirming free. “It’s lies! All lies! You want to let him lie to the Elders?”
On exhausted, wobbling legs, Papa swayed between the two men, keeping them apart as Samuel circled about, trying to find his next opening. Cyrus clutched his jaw, stooping in the grass for his teeth.
Samuel wiped away a bit of blood from his cheek. A diagonal cut, undoubtedly from Cyrus’s unkempt nails, slashed his face, weeping and red.
Cyrus pushed himself up, waving off Papa’s offer of assistance. “If I see any of your family on my property again—ever again!—I’ll fire without question. You understand me, Downing? Keep away from my family and off my land!” With another curse, Cyrus Danforth stormed off, his faltering footsteps taking him directly into town.
* * *
“Are you sure you don’t want to have the doctor look at that?” Whitaker asked once again, wincing as he studied Papa’s battered face. “I could ride into town and be back in no time at all. I think you might have broken your nose.”
“And I’m certain of it,” Papa said, touching his nose gingerly even as he waved Whitaker’s offers aside.
“Papa, let me go,” Sam said, trailing after him into the sitting room. “I’ll find Dr. Ambrose and—”
“I said it’s fine.” He gestured toward one of the chairs, indicating that Whitaker should join him. “Sam, don’t you think you ought to help your mother in the kitchen?”
His eyes darted to me. “Ellerie can.”
I’d been leaning against the doorframe, trying to not get caught staring at our guest, and doing a poor job of it. He’d already winked at me twice.
But at the mention of my name, I startled into motion. Mama did need help.
“Ellerie may stay. She’s been here all week, hauling frames and bringing in the harvest. It’s your turn to lend a helping hand, don’t you think?”