other brothers heard the news, and when it was finally time for Samuel to head down the mountain, the rest of them loaded up, including Jesse, and followed behind him.
Stanton’s brother and sister and their spouses were still at the house to take care of things. The men had volunteered to do the evening chores, while the women moved to the kitchen to begin making supper for everyone. Their church family had already heard the news and had begun bringing food to the house so the cooking would be minimal.
* * *
The ride down was fairly quiet. The closer Samuel got to town, the faster he drove. Bowie was the oldest and the missing piece to the family that Leigh needed.
He glanced up in the rearview mirror at Jesse, who was sitting quietly in the backseat of Samuel’s pickup. Jesse seemed calm, but it was always hard to tell.
Leigh was in the front seat beside him. Her hands were in her lap, clenched into fists. There was a muscle jerking at the side of her jaw, but she had dressed up for Bowie in one of her church dresses and had tied back her hair. If it hadn’t been for the raw scratches on her face and arms, no one would have guessed they were a family in crisis.
They drove into town without the fanfare they had created earlier in the day, and then turned off Main toward the hospital. There was a block of parking spaces in front of the helipad where Samuel parked to wait. Michael and Aidan pulled up beside him. They all rolled down their windows to let in the evening air.
Leigh couldn’t focus. Her thoughts were filled with horror. She knew in her heart that her last day of true happiness had ended with Stanton’s last breath. Yes, she would go on, because that was the burden of the living. And, yes, there would be laughter again one day, and there would be times of calm, and times she felt peaceful in her heart. But it would be the absence, the longing, the loneliness, that would be with her always. She took a deep breath and tried not to cry. She was holding on so tight for so many when all she wanted to do was weep.
The sounds of kids playing nearby and a dog barking at a passing car made everything seem so ordinary. She heard a siren somewhere off in the distance. The police were at work. An ambulance pulled out from one of the bays behind the fire station next door and took off with lights and sirens running.
Jesse leaned forward and touched Samuel’s shoulder.
“Someone’s hurt,” he said, pointing to the ambulance as it turned a corner and drove out of sight.
“Looks like it,” Samuel said.
Jesse looked at his mother.
“Mama, do you reckon I better say a prayer for them?”
Leigh turned around, reached for Jesse’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“I think that would be a fine thing for you to do, son.”
And so they sat in the swiftly fading light with the breeze on their faces and aches in their hearts, listening to the sweet halting words of a gentle, broken man.
Talia Champion heard the news about Stanton Youngblood’s murder when Erin McClune, the hospice nurse, came to check on Talia’s father. Erin was a tall, pretty blonde with strong arms and a gentle heart, and she wasted no time talking about what she called “the showdown” in front of the police station.
Talia was shocked by the news, and saddened to learn that the man she’d once thought would be her father-in-law had been murdered. Then the reality of what that meant hit her. The family would gather. There would be constant turmoil until the killer was found. And knowing that family like she did, she was sure Bowie Youngblood was already on his way home.
It had been over seven years since she’d refused his marriage proposal and ended the joy in her life. It made her stomach hurt just thinking about seeing him again, even from a distance.
She glanced in on her father, grateful Erin was there tending to him for now, and decided to take a quick break. She poured herself a glass of sweet tea and went out on the back porch for a breath of air. After his years of suffering, her father’s Alzheimer’s was finally taking him down. As she sat, she thought back to the night she’d learned her father’s fate, and then leaned back and closed her eyes, remembering what else that realization had meant to her world.
* * *
Talia was dividing the last of her birthday cake for their dessert that night and thinking to herself that nineteen didn’t feel any older than eighteen, when her daddy came in the back door from work.
“Hi, Dad,” she said.
“Hi, baby, did you have a good day?” he asked, as he hung his cap and work coat on the rack by the back door.
“I guess. I did laundry all day,” she said, and then smiled.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
She was wondering what she’d done that had upset him as she took a seat at the kitchen table, and then she looked at his face. There were tears in his eyes.
She started to panic; even before she asked, she knew it had to be bad. Daddy never cried.
“Daddy? What’s wrong?”
He reached for her hands and held them—almost as if he needed her strength to say what had to be said.
“I’m sick, girl. And I’m not gonna get better. In fact, it’s gonna get worse, much worse. I wish to God it wasn’t happening. I am so sorry this burden has fallen on you.”
From the moment she’d heard him say I’m sick, she’d been shaking.
“What’s wrong, Daddy? What is it?”
Marshall Champion shuddered. What he was about to say was terrifying, and saying the words aloud would validate the truth of what he aleady knew.
“I have Alzheimer’s disease. The doctor reckons I’ve had it for a couple of years now.”
Talia gasped. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t make a sound. She looked at her father as if seeing him for the first time and was afraid—afraid of what he would become.
He kept talking.
“I’ve got my pension coming from the railroad, and I’ll start drawing my Social Security this year, but today was my last day at the gas station. I’m making too many mistakes. I reckon what’s coming in will be enough to put me somewhere when the need comes, but I’ll have to depend on you to do all that, and I’m so sorry.”
Now Talia was holding on to her father’s hands in desperation. Life had been so perfect. She and Bowie were finally out of high school and getting ready to go away to college together. She was already toying with the idea of being his wife for the rest of their lives. She had to talk now. Please, God, let it make sense.
“It’s not your fault, Daddy, and of course I’ll be here for you. Don’t ever apologize about this to me again, okay?”
Marshall nodded as the tears rolled down his face.
“You are a good girl, honey.”
She took a deep, painful breath and smiled around the heartache.
“You are a good father. I’ve been blessed.”
Marshall nodded, then turned her loose, patted her hands and stood up.
“Well, now, I’m glad it’s been said. I’ll make supper tonight, okay?”
“I’ve already got it going,” she said. “Just go wash up. It should be done in about thirty minutes.”
Her hands were shaking as she watched him leave the room. Still reeling from the news, she began grasping at straws, trying to figure out how to make this work and still have her life with Bowie. Her thoughts were chaotic as she reached for her laptop.