Shades of Honor (31 page)

Kyle stepped forward and handed Radford William's old Enfield rifle. The cold steel burned his shaking hands as he accepted it, remembering his initial thrill at Camp White when he’d received his own Enfield rifle. Now, Radford wished to never see a rifle again.

He had vowed the day his regiment was mustered out of service that he would never fire another shot, yet once again, he was forced by duty. Memories snaked their way through Radford's mind, and despite the cold morning, he felt sweaty and nauseous.

 
With dread, he lifted the gun and looked down the length of the gray steel barrel, seeing nothing but the bleak gray sky. Everything was gray. Gray uniforms and glinting gray guns and caustic smoke that seared his nostrils and clogged his throat until it suffocated him. Radford’s quaking knees gave out. He stumbled and lost his grip on the rifle. To his horror the gun clattered to the earth and lay like a viper at his feet. Radford scraped his palms down the legs of his trousers, trying to rub the feel of metal off his palms. Doc Kendall's assessing gaze and George's sympathetic one pierced Radford with shame.

Kyle picked up the gun and gripped Radford's shoulder. “Pull yourself together,” he said quietly while the crowd looked on in confusion. “Do it for William.”

Boyd stepped up, flanking Radford between them. “You're home now.”

“It's the four of us,” Duke said from behind him. He placed a heavy hand on Radford’s shoulder. “You don't have to do it alone.”

Radford felt the hands of his brothers on his shoulders, lending their strength. Slowly, he drew the gun up and sighted toward the farthest cloud. His hands shook, but Kyle steadied the gun until Radford could manage on his own.

With clenched teeth, Radford pulled the trigger and fired three lone shots to mark the passing of a great man, a hero, a father. He jerked his face away from the acrid rifle smoke and thrust the gun at Kyle. But his strength was so seriously lacking, he stumbled to the casket and could barely manage the rope when they lowered it into the cold, black earth.

“I want to go home,” Rebecca said, bursting into tears as Radford entered the room he slept in at his mother’s house. He picked her up and she clung to his neck. “I want Aunt Evelyn.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Their lives were hell living without Evelyn and he had no idea how to comfort Rebecca when he could promise her nothing. He hadn't spoken intimately with Evelyn since the funeral three days earlier. His pathetic attempts to examine his past had begun an onslaught of vicious nightmares that he fought his way out of with violent results. He’d protected Rebecca by putting her in his mother’s room, but she was rebelling against being uprooted again. Kyle had moved into his own house the day of their fight, and other than his brief comment at William’s funeral, he hadn’t spoken a word to Radford since.

If Radford could only find his way through this hell. If he could only roll back time to when he was seventeen and start all over again. He’d fight the war like a man. He’d come home to the hero’s welcome he deserved. He’d shoulder the burden of supporting his family as he should have when his father passed away. He’d fall in love with Evelyn before Kyle thought to ask her to become his wife. But he couldn’t roll back time. He couldn’t undo any of his mistakes. All he could do was try and make restitution.

He couldn’t afford to ride it out any longer. Rebecca couldn’t wait for him to wrestle down his past and pull his life together. She needed him now. So did Evelyn.

After supper, Radford trudged across the snow-covered field toward the mill, his muscles straining beneath the heavy weight of the chain Evelyn had borrowed from Kyle last August.

His arms trembled and, despite the cold, he was covered with sweat by the time he crossed the yard. How would he apologize for what he’d done? What words could convey the depth of his regret? He could offer an explanation and honest apology. The most he could hope for was an opportunity to repair the damage. The rest would be up to Kyle.

An inch of snow offered little cushion for the fifty pounds of iron that Radford dumped behind his brother. With a yelp, Kyle spun around, his expression startled and fierce. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Returning your chain.”

Kyle kicked it. “I didn’t want it back.”

“And I didn’t want to fall in love with Evelyn, but I’m learning that life isn’t about what we want.”

They measured each other while the distant sound of a saw filled the frigid air that cut through Radford’s clothing, chilling his sweat-covered body. Kyle’s expression remained hard. “Are you finished?”

Kyle’s anger was justified, but Radford prayed he could break through it, that he could make Kyle understand how an innocent situation evolved into betrayal. Radford extended his hand, reaching for his beloved brother, willing to beg for his forgiveness if it came to that. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I want to make amends and tell you why it happened.”

“So you can relieve your guilt?” Kyle glanced at Radford’s waiting hand then turned his back and grabbed his ax. “Not interested.”

Radford curled his cold fingers into his palm, drawing away from Kyle’s painful rejection. He lowered his hand, wondering if he’d ever find the words that would open Kyle’s heart. “I realize I deserted you when Dad died. I deserted all of you. Now, I’m deserting Evelyn when she needs me most. I can’t run anymore, Kyle. It’s killing me and draining the life from my daughter.”

Kyle’s shoulders stiffened. “What do you want me to say? That all is forgiven? That I hope you and Evelyn are happy?” He turned back to Radford. “I had a life planned and you dumped the mill on my shoulders. My wedding was one week away and you slept with my bride. How am I supposed to forgive that?”

Kyle’s words sliced through Radford and he knew he was asking too much.

“Dad built this mill for you, Radford. When he was dying, he made me promise I’d keep it going. I stayed. I tore up my train ticket and unpacked my suitcase. I know you made your sacrifices, too, Radford, but for five years, I sweated blood and kept my promise to Dad. My life is here now.” He swung his arm out to encompass the mill. “I built this. My back. My hands. My life.” He lowered his arm, his expression raw with pain. “I was going to be a lawyer. I became a mill owner instead. This is my life. Evelyn was supposed to share it with me. I don’t know what you want from me, but I think I’ve sacrificed enough.”

Radford nodded. How selfish he’d been. How many other lives had he ruined because he’d been too consumed by his own pain? Rebecca’s? Evelyn’s? It didn’t matter. Even one was too many.

“I became a soldier because I had to,” Radford said, nostalgia and regret making his voice hoarse. “I wanted to be a mill owner.” He met Kyle’s eyes, knowing his brother deserved the truth. “I didn’t want to go. I had dreams for this place.” Radford’s gaze traveled the mill with longing. “A lot like this, but not as grand. I would have had more men and less saw. You did it smarter.” He shrugged, knowing it no longer mattered. “The Union didn’t want crippled men so I went in Dad’s place. I promised him I’d come back alive. He believed I came back a hero. I left because I couldn’t tell him the truth.”

Kyle shoved his hands in his pockets and flicked the chain with his boot. “I was wrong to say that about hiding your medal.”

“It’s the truth. I didn’t earn it. William was a hero in every sense of the word. It’s where it belongs now.”

Kyle sighed. “I don’t know what happened to you all those years ago, Radford, but I can’t pay the price anymore. I want to get on with my life.”

“So do I.”

“Then do it, but don’t ask me to forgive you. I don’t have it in me.”

Kyle’s words tore through Radford like grapeshot and he stumbled back a step. Everything inside him calcified: his heart, his hopes, his dreams of reuniting with his brother. He didn’t blame Kyle. But his heart ached. “I understand,” he said. “I just wish there was something I could say to change things.” He turned away, uncaring that the icy wind stung his cheeks.

“Words won’t change anything. Enough has been said.”

Radford turned back. “We talked with our fists. All that accomplished was beating the hell out of each other. My ribs are still bruised.”

“I intended to break them. I'm glad to hear I didn't.”

Radford snorted. “At least you're honest.”

Kyle slipped the toe of his boot beneath a section of chain, making the links jangle. “We never fought like that when we were kids. Is that something you learned in the war?”

“The only thing I learned was that I was an animal. There were no rules in those battles and I didn't make any for myself. I used whatever advantage I had to stay alive in that hell.”

“Well, I wish you would have told me that before I was stupid enough to hit you. My damn eyebrow is still lumped up.” Kyle’s lip twitched and Radford wondered if he had only imagined the flicker of amusement.

A spark of hope blossomed and he stared at his brother, praying Kyle was beginning to soften. “Do you think there’s any chance for us, Kyle? Ever?”

Their gazes clashed, but Kyle remained silent, unyielding.

With a sinking heart, Radford made one last appeal. “I never meant to betray you. The only thing that kept me alive during the war was believing I could come back to this, to my brothers. I’ll do whatever it takes, Kyle. Anything.”

A loud pounding jolted Evelyn from sleep and she tossed the afghan onto the back of the couch, her brain frantically trying to understand why someone would be banging on her door in the middle of the night.

“Evelyn!” Nancy Grayson’s voice was muffled by the door, but Evelyn could hear the panic in her call.

The instant Evelyn opened the door, Nancy pushed inside. “Is Rebecca here with you?” she asked, her eyes wild with fear.

Evelyn’s gaze darted into the dark, snowy night and her heart stopped. “No. Where’s Radford?” she asked, her own panic rising.

“I don’t know.” Nancy burst into tears. “He left the house an hour ago. He’d had a nightmare and was thrashing around so much, Boyd went in to wake him up, but Radford was out of his mind. Both Duke and Boyd had to shake Radford awake. He was so ashamed when he realized he’d attacked his brothers that he pulled on his clothes and left the house. When I went back to my bedroom, Rebecca was gone.”

“Maybe she’s with Radford,” Evelyn said, praying it was true.

Nancy shook her head. “He headed toward town. Rebecca’s footprints went into the orchard, but they’re so small, and it’s so dark, the boys are having a hard time tracking them.” Her eyes welled up. “She’s in her nightgown. She’ll freeze out there.”

“Where are the boys?” Evelyn asked, reaching for her coat.

“They’re still searching the orchard and the creek.”

“Go to Kyle’s house and tell him what’s happened,” she said, slipping her bare feet into a pair of her boots, then grabbing the lantern off the table. “Find Radford. I’ll help look for Rebecca.”

The instant she and Nancy stepped outside, the frigid air took her breath away. Nancy ran back across the orchard, but Evelyn stood on the steps, feeling scared to death that Rebecca was exposed to the biting wind and snow. Her first inclination was to dash into the dark and yell for Rebecca, but Evelyn stopped in the driveway, turning a slow circle, wondering where she’d go if she were a frightened little girl.

Someplace warm. Someplace she wouldn’t be alone.

Evelyn raced to the barn, but instead of yanking open the big double doors, she went to the small entrance door on the side. The livery was dark and silent. Evelyn’s heart raced and her thoughts scattered as she stepped inside. Where could Rebecca have gone?

Evelyn checked the tack room, praying that Rebecca had crawled up on the cot like Evelyn used to do when she was her age, but Rebecca wasn’t there. Fighting panic, Evelyn stood still and listened. The wind moaned. The rafters creaked. A sprinkling of hay slipped through the floorboards above her head and fluttered past her lantern.

Her heart leaped and she dashed toward the ladder leading up to the loft. “Rebecca!” Evelyn lifted the lantern and climbed the ladder one-handed. The instant her head cleared the upper floor and she could look into the loft, Evelyn felt her legs and arms go weak. Rebecca was sitting beside a mound of hay with a litter of two-day-old kittens in her lap. “honey, are you all right?” Evelyn asked breathlessly, barely able to believe Rebecca was safe.

Rebecca sniffed and scrubbed her wet eyes. “Daddy was fighting and they hurt him.”

“Oh, honey, your uncles were only trying to wake him up.”

“He cried and he ran away.”

Evelyn’s breath whooshed out and she sagged against the wooden rungs of the ladder.

Rebecca stroked the kitten in her lap, her tears dripping onto the fur beneath her fingers. “He said he wouldn’t leave me no more.”

Evelyn pressed her fingers to her mouth, her own eyes flooding.

A bang sounded from below, then hurried footsteps, and Boyd’s frantic voice as he yelled for Rebecca.

“Boyd! Over here!” Evelyn squatted down and ducked her head in time to see Boyd skid to a halt beside the ladder. “She’s in the loft with Missy’s new kittens.”