Jenna’s laughter rose to the top of the cottonwoods. “Frank’s such a bore. A midnight swim sounded more fun than sitting around with a bunch of guys drinking beer and talking about rodeo. Besides, I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
The girl played with fire, but she had no idea how hot the coals burned. He picked Jenna up and twirled her in the waist-high water, the celebration in his heart bittersweet. He’d betrayed Frank by making love to this girl, and nothing would ever be the same again.
Not ready to give in to his conscience, he kissed Jenna hard on the mouth, and they both fell into the water. In a fit of laughter, they splashed each other until two more sirens interrupted their fun. Curiosity aroused, they grabbed their clothes on the bank and hopped into Gil’s half-ton to follow the flashing red lights to the site of the accident.
A beat-up Chevy truck lay overturned in the ditch. Gil recognized the vehicle at once, and he and Jenna raced down the steep hill, their clothes clinging to their wet skin. The passenger had received a fatal blow against the windshield, and paramedics worked to pull the teenage boy from the crushed cab. The driver, thrown from his window, lay covered on the ground.
Drawn by pure terror, Gil tore the white sheet from the body and nearly retched. The lifeless form of his brother lay bloodied and mangled on the ground. Tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees. Gil held Frank’s limp frame close to his chest and willed himself to feel the warmth of life in his veins, the beat of his heart, which failed to oblige. Unable to believe his brother dead, Gil rocked him in his arms and called out Frank’s name in the dark night . . .
Haunted by the memories, Gil swayed back and forth on the cold cemetery ground.
Again, he heard the owl’s shriek. He’d been wrong to come here. The pain was still too great. Grief left him numb, yet the torment of what he’d done to his brother gnawed at his stomach until he wanted to cry out from guilt.
Christian or not, could there really be forgiveness for such a crime?
With doubt hounding him, he lumbered to the truck and followed the winding road to his father’s home.
As the miles crept by, Gil thought about the kids who’d hit his horse two nights ago. He’d heard the driver had been intoxicated and that the other boy had died. The notion to visit the teenager who’d lived through the accident weighed on his shoulders, and he resolved to go to the hospital the next day. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he arrived at the ranch too tired to find his way into the dark house. Instead, he stretched out on the seat of the truck and slept.
The next morning as the sun shone down on Gil’s face, the passenger door screeched open, followed by a low whistle.
“Whoo-wee, I ain’t seen nobody do this for a long time. You okay there, Son?” Jake asked.
Gil lifted his head, his shoulders pinched from lying in such an awkward position, his toes and fingers nearly frozen. “I didn’t want to wake the old man last night.”
Jake nodded thoughtfully. “He’s gettin’ older. Probably wise to let go of hard feelings. Start afresh.”
Not up to a lecture, Gil cocked an eyebrow and rubbed his neck. “Does Mildred still make breakfast for you? I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse.”
The ranch hand chuckled. “I’m headed that way now. Tuesday mornings she makes biscuits and sausage gravy. ’Course it’s turkey sausage, but it beats cold cereal.”
Gil rolled out of the side of the truck and walked with Jake to the house. “Thanks again for letting me borrow your wheels last night.”
“Use it any time you want. I’m glad to have you home.” Jake patted him on the shoulders. They entered the kitchen through the back, and the screen door slammed behind them.
Mildred turned from the stove, her hands on her hips. “I wondered where you were. I made your bed up last night. Noticed you didn’t sleep in it.”
“He dozed in the truck,” Jake intercepted, “but I reckon he’s paying the price for it now.” The old cowhand sat at a wooden table and picked up his silverware.
Mildred set a plate of steaming biscuits beside a bowl of creamy white gravy that smelled like heaven.