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“I think he’s mean to her when he drinks. Not that she’d tell me. A few weeks ago, she had a black eye. She said she fell over the high chair. I think she told Mama the truth though.” The two women still shut Crystal out. Everyone did. She was dangerously beautiful and it threatened all the women who knew her, except this one, who looked so different. They were an odd pair, the one tall and thin, the other tiny, the one with shining black hair, the other with her long mane like a palomino’s. The one culture so free and so bountiful in words and gestures,
the other so spare and so restrained. They had come from different worlds, to a single place, where they had become sisters.

“Perhaps you go to Hollywood one day, and Boyd and I will come to see you.” They both laughed as they walked down the road from the Websters’ place, talking of their dreams. Hiroko wanted a pretty house one day, and lots of children. Crystal wanted to sing, and wanted to go to a place where people didn’t resent her. It was a common bond between Hiroko and Crystal. For different reasons, they were both outcasts.

Hiroko liked to get exercise and she didn’t like to go out alone, and Crystal always enjoyed walking with her. They would talk for hours sometimes, as Hiroko noticed the tiniest things as they walked along, the smallest flowers, the least plant, the most delicate butterfly, and then later she would sketch them. They shared a common passion for nature. But Crystal was also comfortable enough with her now to tease her.

“You just see all that stuff because you’re lower to the ground than I am, Hiroko.” Hiroko would giggle at her and they both wished they could go into town, but they knew they couldn’t be seen anywhere together. It would have created a storm almost beyond bearing. Boyd invited her to go into San Francisco with them, but she was afraid to disappear for that long, her mother would surely notice it, and her father might need her.

By Christmas, he was too weak to get out of bed, and Crystal didn’t visit the Websters for several weeks, and when she came in late January, her face told its own tale. Tad Wyatt was dying. She sat in Hiroko’s kitchen and cried, with the older girl’s arms around her shoulders. She felt as though her heart would break seeing him slip away day by day. Everyone at the ranch was crying all the time. Her grandmother, Olivia, Becky. And Jared
was never there, he couldn’t stand to watch their father dying. Crystal would sit for long hours with him, encouraging him to eat, whispering softly as she put more blankets on him, and sometimes just sitting there as he slept, the tears rolling silently down her cheeks as she watched him. And it was Crystal he always wanted near him, Crystal he called for when he was delirious, Crystal he looked for when he opened his eyes again. Seldom his wife, and never Becky. They were foreign to him now, just as Crystal was to them. It was she who tended him lovingly, who even helped her mother bathe him. But the love she showed for him only made her mother resent her more. She thought the love they shared was unnatural, and if he hadn’t been so sick, she would have said it. Instead she barely spoke to Crystal anymore, and Crystal didn’t really care. All she cared about now was her father. Her passion for him even dimmed her memories of Spencer.

Becky was pregnant again, and Tom was attempting to run the ranch, although he was too drunk most of the time to do it. It broke Crystal’s heart whenever she saw him drive up to the main house. It took every ounce of control she had not to tell him what she thought of him, but for her father’s sake, Crystal remained silent. She didn’t want to upset him, and she wanted everything to stay the same, but by February she knew it wouldn’t.

She sat quietly by his bedside night and day, holding his hand, and never leaving him, except to bathe, or to eat something hastily in the kitchen. She was afraid that if she left him, he might die. She stopped going to school, she never even left the house, except for a few minutes to take a deep breath of air on the porch, or walk quickly to the river before it got dark. Tom followed her there once, and he stood leering at her, as she sat in a clearing, lost in thought, thinking of her father, and then of Spencer. She
had never heard from him since he’d come to little Willie’s christening, but she hadn’t expected to. Boyd had had a letter from him at Christmas, he sounded happy in New York and he liked his job, and he told them he’d let them know if he ever came to California. But he was too far away to help her now. No one could, except God. And she prayed daily that He would let her keep her father, but in her heart of hearts, she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

She took her place in the chair beside her father’s bedside that night, watching him doze, and after midnight, he opened his eyes and looked around. He looked better than he had in a long time, his mind was clear, and he smiled at Crystal. Her mother was sleeping on the couch in the living room, and Crystal had been sleeping in the chair next to his bed for days, but she woke instantly when he stirred and offered him a sip of water.

“Thank you, baby.” He spoke, and his voice sounded a little stronger. “You should go to bed now.”

“I’m not tired yet,” she whispered in the dim light, and she wanted to be there. If she left him, he might die, and as long as she sat there, maybe he’d live … maybe … “Do you want some soup? Grandma made turkey soup tonight, it’s pretty good.” The blond hair hung past her shoulders like a gossamer curtain, and he looked at her with the love he had felt for her for all her sixteen years. He wanted to be there forever, just to protect her. He knew how unkind the others were, how jealous, and how petty, even the girl’s own mother, and all because Crystal was so lovely. Even the boys in the valley were afraid of her, she was too beautiful to be real, and yet she was, very real. He knew her well, and he was proud of who she had become. She had courage and guts and brains, as well as beauty. And for months now, he had suspected that she was visiting Hiroko, and although he
himself had qualms about their friendship, he didn’t try to stop her. More than once, he wanted to ask her what she was like, but he decided not to. She had a right to her own life, to a few secrets of her own. She had so few other pleasures. He declined the soup, and lay on his pillows looking at her, praying that life would be kind to her, that she would find a good man one day, and be happy.

“Don’t ever give this up, little girl …” It was barely a whisper, and at first she didn’t understand him.

“What, Daddy?” Her voice was as soft as his own, and her fingers laced with his were so much stronger.

“The ranch … the valley … you belong here … just like I do … I want you to see more of the world than … just this …” He seemed to be having difficulty breathing. “… but the ranch will … always … be here for you.”

“I know that, Daddy.” She didn’t want to talk about it now. It was as though he was saying good-bye to her, and she wouldn’t let him. “Try to sleep now.”

He shook his head. There wasn’t time. He had slept for too long, and now he wanted only to talk to his youngest child, his favorite, his baby. “Tom doesn’t know how to run the ranch.” She knew that much herself, but she didn’t say that to her father, she only nodded. “And one day, Jar will want to do something else, he doesn’t love the land … the way you and I do … when you’ve seen something of the world, and mother is gone, Crystal, I want you to come back here … find a good man, someone who’ll be kind to my baby,” he smiled at her and her eyes filled with tears as she squeezed his hand, “… and make yourselves a good life here …”

“Don’t talk like that, Daddy …” She could hardly talk through her tears, as she brushed his cheek with her own and carefully kissed his brow. It was cold and damp and clammy and she sat back to look at him again.
“You’re the only man I want.” But for a crazy moment, she wanted to tell him about Spencer, that she had seen someone she liked … liked too much … and could have fallen in love with. But he was only a dream, like the movie stars on her bedroom walls. Spencer Hill was never real in the life of Crystal Wyatt. “Get some sleep now.” It was the only thing to say to him, just talking for a few minutes had left him breathless and exhausted. “I love you, Daddy.” She whispered the words as his eyes fluttered closed, and then they opened again and he looked at her and smiled.

“I love you too, little girl. You’ll always be my … little girl … sweet, sweet Crystal …” And with that his eyes drifted closed again, and he looked peaceful as he slept, and she held his hand and watched him. She sat back in her chair, still holding his hand in her own, and a few minutes later she drifted off, exhausted by the strain of watching him day after day, and when she awoke, the sky was gray and the room was cold, and her father had died, holding her hand. His last words and his last thoughts and his last good-bye were to Crystal. Her eyes flew wide as she realized that he was gone, and she gently tucked his hand in beside him, and with a last look through eyes blinded by tears, she left the room and closed the door, and without saying a word to anyone, she ran as fast as she could to the river. She was crying openly, her body racked by sobs, and she stayed there for a long time, and when she came back, her mother was crying loudly in the kitchen, as Minerva stood silently making coffee. They had found him.

“Your father’s dead.” She said the words almost angrily as Crystal walked in, her face streaked with tears. It was an accusation more than a regret, as though Crystal could have stopped him. She nodded, afraid to tell them that she’d known before she left, wondering herself again
if she could have done anything to keep hini from dying. She remembered his words the night before … I want you to come back here … He knew how much she loved the place, it was a part of her, as it had been a part of him and always would be. She would always see her father here, in this house, but more than that, on the hills, riding his horse, or riding his tractor through the vineyards.

They sent Jared into town, and the undertaker came out to get Tad later that morning, and his friends and neighbors went to pay their final respects as his wife and mother-in-law stood by, shaking hands and crying. Olivia glanced at Tom gratefully through her tears … as Crystal tried to repress her own hatred of him. The thought of his running the ranch now made her shudder. But Crystal couldn’t even think of that, all she could think of was the man she had loved. Her father. He was gone now, and she was left, frightened and bereft among strangers.

The funeral was the next day, and he was buried in a clearing near the river. It was a place that Crystal knew well. She went there often to sit and think, or swim, and it comforted her to think of her father nearby, keeping watch over her. She knew he would always be with her. And that afternoon, she disappeared for a while and went to visit Hiroko. Her baby was due in a few weeks and she stood up slowly as Crystal walked soundlessly into their living room. Her eyes told their own tale, and Boyd had told her that Tad Wyatt had finally died. She had longed to be able to go to Crystal, but knew there was no way she could. They wouldn’t have let her in to see her. And now there she was, looking like a broken child, as she began to sob and held her arms out to Hiroko. Her heart ached as she cried. Without her father, life would never
be the same again. He had left her among people whom she instinctively knew had never loved her.

Crystal stayed at the Websters’ for hours, and when she went back to the ranch, it was dark, and her mother was waiting for her. She was sitting stonily on the couch, alone in the living room, and stared angrily at Crystal as she walked in, sagging with grief and exhaustion.

“Where were you?”

“I had to get away from here.” It was true. She couldn’t stand the oppressive atmosphere, and the people who arrived hour after hour, bringing gifts and food to give them sustenance in their grief. But she didn’t want food, she wanted her daddy.

“I asked you where you were.”

“Out, Mama. It doesn’t matter.” She had ridden over to the Websters’ on horseback. It was too far to walk, and she was too tired to even attempt it after the emotions of the past few days.

“You’re sleeping with some boy, aren’t you?” Crystal stared at her mother in amazement. She hadn’t been anywhere in weeks, she had scarcely left her father’s bedside to go to the bathroom.

“Of course not. How can you say that?” Her eyes filled with tears at the unkind words that were so typical of her mother.

“I know you’re up to something, Crystal Wyatt. I know what time you get out of school. You don’t come home till dark most days. Do you think I’m a fool?” She was furious, one could hardly tell that she had just lost her husband. From grieving widow she had turned into a viper.

“Mama, don’t … please …” They had buried her father only that morning, and already the hatred and accusations were starting.

“You’ll end up like Ginny Webster. Seven months pregnant, and lucky to be married.”

“That’s not true.” She could hardly talk she was crying so hard, all she could think of was the father she had lost, and she couldn’t believe her own mother was making those accusations. She was referring, of course, to Crystal’s absences when she visited Hiroko.

“Your father’s not here to tell your lies to anymore. Don’t think you can fool me. If you try to run wild with me, Crystal Wyatt, you can get out of here. I’m not going to put up with your running wild around here. This is a respectable family and don’t you forget it!” Crystal stared at her blindly as her mother stalked off to the room where her husband died, holding his daughter’s hand. The daughter who stood alone now with no one to defend her. She stood in the living room, listening to the silence, and aching for her father. And then she walked slowly to her own room, and sank down on the bed she had once shared with her sister. She wondered why they hated her so much. It never occurred to her that it was because he loved her. And it was more than that, it was the way she looked … the way she moved … the way she saw them. She knew as she lay down on her bed in the dark, still dressed, that her life would never be the same again. He had left her alone with them, and as she began to cry in the silent room, she was frightened.