unison as a half dozen men rose. Daralyn saw Brick tilt forward, say a quiet word to Rory. Making sure it was okay.
Rory’s expression had shifted from amusement to a wealth of deeper emotions. He managed a quick nod, which Brick answered with a hard shoulder squeeze. Then Brick and three of the men had lifted the chair, two on each side, the extra two as rear escort. They put him on the stage in a move as smooth as a chair lift.
During that few handful of seconds, Daralyn thought Elaine had Marcus take a dozen pictures with his phone. Rory’s mother made a tremendous effort to stay composed, though her face was suffused with emotion as strong as her son’s. Daralyn suspected when Brick came back to the table, he was going to get a rib-cracking hug from her. If she could get her arms around that much of his massive chest.
Right now, Brick and the others had arranged themselves to the right of the stage. Daralyn had lingered over Rory’s pictures in the yearbook more than once. Now she recalled a much younger Rory, a high school junior, standing at the mic, his teammates in this same, almost military precise line nearby, hands clasped before them.
Rory had moved to the podium. The mayor had the plaque in one hand, her other extended. Daralyn could tell she was offering a sincere apology, distress and regret in her dark eyes. Rory gave her a reassuring smile, the one capable of making any woman’s toes curl. Including Daralyn’s.
Wilma handed him the mic, stepping back behind the podium while he turned to face the audience from his position next to it. As far as Daralyn knew, he hadn’t prepared or agonized over a speech. She’d asked him, on one of their lazy evenings in the hammock, if he was preparing one. He’d shrugged. “Nope. If anything needs to be said, it’ll come to me at the time.”
He gave calm and appropriate thanks to the presenters, to the town that he called home, the neighbors and friends who supported him, naming several in particular. He said he was proud to support all of them.
Then he paused, gaze sweeping over the audience and coming to their table. He let his attention rest on Daralyn a lingering beat before moving it to his brother, to Marcus, and finally his mother.
“I’m thankful for my life,” he said, shifting his gaze back to the listening audience. “It’s a funny thing. After my accident, like anyone going through something like that, there were a couple moments I wished the tractor had finished me off.” He sent his mother a regretful look. “It was tough. But now I know I didn’t know what tough is. I had every gift in the world, all the love and family support I needed, to get through it. And I have those gifts still.”
His gaze shifted to Daralyn. “Tough is going it alone in the world when everything seems against you, and surviving anyway, with your soul intact, and a heart bigger than anyone’s I’ve ever met.”
She could feel eyes turning her way. This was a world who knew her story. The local customers who came through the store, the people she saw at church, whose houses and farms she passed when she rode her bicycle to work. It was a quiet awareness, though, nothing they brought up or dwelled upon in her presence. Rory had put her in the spotlight, but only for the moment, just long enough to make her heart pound harder beneath their regard and his. Then he smoothly moved onward, drawing their attention elsewhere.
“When I was told I was getting this award,” he said, “I didn’t want it. Not because of false modesty or because I’m uncomfortable with that kind of thing, but because to me, it was obvious that there were two particular people who deserved it more. The two who taught me everything that’s important. My parents.”
His gaze touched Elaine, came back to the silent crowd. “As we move through our lives, our parents are not only trying to guide us, they’re trying to figure themselves out, too. And whether they realize it or not, when they give us a front row seat to that journey, they’re influencing us in ways that can literally save our lives, put us on the paths that make life something better than we ever could have imagined.”
Now when he turned his eyes back to his mother, he held there, so