hurt him, and it was easier to blame Silas than admit how badly I hurt him. He tried to talk to me in town; I told him I was busy and left.”
“How did you start talking again?”
“When I finally accepted Silas had nothing to apologize for. I was holding in how bad I felt about the way I acted, and I was blaming him for not making me feel better. Kind of screwy, right?” Lifting her eyes, she saw Gavin watching her. “The last time I came here to see them, all I had to do was walk through the door, and it was like I had never left.”
“So, you forgave Silas?”
“I forgave myself.” Ginny rose from the bed to go to a wooden chest of drawers, picking up the little iron farm animals. None had dust on them. Silas had kept the contents clean, as if waiting for her to come back. Tears clogged her throat at the time she had wasted. Moving back to the bed, one by one, she wrapped them in tissue paper before storing them in a shoe box.
“Why are you boxing your things?”
“These aren’t mine; they’re Leah’s. Silas asked me to. He wants me to have them.”
“You’re leaving her star chart hanging up?”
“That stays.”
Gavin rose from the bed. “Did Silas mention the charts are wrong?”
Ginny turned from the box to see Gavin leaning over Leah’s bed to get a better view of her chart. “What do you mean?”
“The ones I saw in Silas’s room had two different constellations. He said they were star charts of the night he and your father were born. Leah’s is right, as it only has one.” Moving back to her bed, Gavin went to the chart hanging over her bed. “Yours is wrong, like theirs.”
“What did Silas say about them being wrong?”
“Nothing really. I told him he should contact the person who made them. Silas said he probably wouldn’t, since they were a gift from your father.”
“I still see him hanging them. I wish you could have known him. You would have liked him.”
“Could I have beaten him at poker?”
Wrapping an iron rooster, Ginny laughed. “No. Who do you think taught Silas to play?
“Could you hand me the plaque behind the jewelry box on the dresser?” With humor, Ginny peered at Gavin as he found the plaque.
“Silas owes me three hundred dollars.”
“Losers weepers.” Quoting half the old saying, Ginny took the plaque from Gavin.
“Please tell me this is the only tournament Silas played in.”
“I would, but it would be a lie.”
Gavin looked toward the doorway ruefully, as if hoping Silas would walk past.
“I tried to warn you.”
“Exactly when was that?”
“I wiggled my eyebrows.”
“I thought you were telling me to take it easy on him.”
“No, it was warning. When I took the pie away from Silas, that was me telling him to take it easy on you.”
“Well, he fucking didn’t.”
“Neither did you,” she reminded him.
“How fucking good is he?”
“He won every poker tournament he’s played in. Last year, I believe he won the International Tournament in Las Vegas.”
Gavin’s left eyelid began twitching.
“If he wins such big pots, why did he work at the lumber yard so long?”
“The lumber yard has the best insurance in the county, and Silas needed that when they were all younger. He’s comfortable enough now with the boys having their own business that he can financially handle just Fynn’s medical care. You’re not really mad, are you? I was going to tell you. It just never came up. Then you were the one who wanted to play. I didn’t want to disappoint you. You were in such a good mood.”
“I’m not now.”
“I can see that,” she soothed him. “I thought, what could the harm be when you were only playing with five-dollar bills?”
“It went to twenties real fast.”
“I kind of thought Shade would have mentioned Silas played. He watched the tournament with me—it was televised.”
Both of Gavin’s eyelids began twitching. “He didn’t.”
“Are you mad at me? I didn’t—”
“No. I know exactly who’s to blame.”
“Who?” she asked innocently.
“Shade. The brother is dead meat when I get ahold of him.”
“You really wouldn’t hurt Shade.” Ginny made a face of disbelief at him.
“Shade doesn’t have four legs.”
“Rough night?”
Ginny moved to the side to let Silas fill his thermos. Blowing on her cup of black coffee, she put a slice of bread in the toaster. “Yes,” she answered in a low voice, not wanting Gavin to hear if he was awake. “He spent most of the night trying to claw