that when he’d met Abby, and they’d been married a few days after Duke’s fifteenth birthday.
Dawson, their first son and Duke’s first half-brother, had come along about fifteen months after that. The years between them had prevented Duke from knowing Dawson all that well. With all the changes in his life, Duke had started searching for something to give his life meaning.
He’d fallen away from his religion, and he’d spent some years blaming God for the extreme loneliness that still sometimes plagued him.
An image of his beautiful wife filled his mind, and along with Arizona came his daughter, Shiloh. They loved him beyond measure, and most of the time, Duke had no idea why. He’d done terrible things to Zona’s family, and as he pulled in next to Daddy’s truck, he expected his shame and guilt to punch at him as it had in the past.
Today, it didn’t. It hadn’t for a while now, and Duke took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He’d already spent a half-hour on his knees that morning, rising extra-early to pour his heart out to the Lord. He’d been in private and group therapy sessions before he’d returned to Three Rivers, and he’d met with Pastor Corning several times since coming home.
Duke asked the Lord the same question he’d pondered this morning. Am I really forgiven?
The answer now, sitting in his truck with the spring sun barely rising behind him, was the same as it had been beside his bed, with his wife breathing softly into the darkness as she slept.
I remember them no more.
Duke wished he could forget. He’d prayed his father would too. Out of anyone, the people Duke had stolen money from had been the most forgiving. He thanked the Lord for Bear and Cactus Glover every single day. Cactus had definitely been spiny, but he’d still come when Bear had sat down with Duke, listened to him talk, accepted the apology, and watched as Bear engulfed Duke in the biggest, best hug of his life.
Cactus had shaken his hand, his eyes still full of wariness. Duke had seen that same emotion in plenty of other glances, especially when he and Zona had first started dating. They’d disappeared quickly, another thing for which Duke was grateful.
His dad knocked on the passenger window, and Duke opened his eyes. He rolled down the glass and smiled at his father. “Morning, Daddy.”
“Morning, son. You’re here early.”
“Yeah.” Duke didn’t say why. He simply hadn’t wanted to be last. Dawson still lived at the homestead, and as they’d been meeting over the past several months, Duke hated walking in last. “Where’s Dawson this morning?”
“Oh, Momma had some trouble with the chickens this morning. He was helping her round them up.” He looked back down the road, as if he’d be able to see the fenced-off area where the fowl were supposed to stay. Chickens had a knack for getting out at the worst times, and that alone had kept Duke from getting his own.
Zona wanted some, because she wanted Shiloh to experience true farm life. He’d told her she could take their daughter to either ranch, and Shiloh would get the same experience.
“It’s not the same as standing on the back porch and throwing oats for the chickens in your own backyard,” Zona had said.
Duke would relent to her one day; he always did, because he wanted his wife to be happy. He’d prayed her into his life, and he was the luckiest man alive to have her.
He’d also spent a moment that morning praying the Lord would soften his father’s heart. As his father smiled at him and opened the passenger door to get in the truck, Duke wondered if something had changed since the last meeting.
Duke worked like a dog around Rhinehart Ranch, one of the only ranches surrounding Three Rivers that bore the family name. He did anything and everything his father asked, at any time of day or night. As his dad had started getting older in the past couple of years, Duke had entertained the idea of becoming foreman of his family ranch.
When he’d finally found the courage to bring it up with Daddy, he’d been shocked to learn that Wade Rhinehart’s will listed Dawson as the heir to Rhinehart Ranch. He hadn’t been happy about that, and the revelation had led to a lot of discussions and these meetings.
The conversations had been good, if painful. They’d been necessary, in Duke’s opinion, and his relationship with his father, Abby, Dawson,