The boy finally looked up, meeting his eyes again.
"I'll show you, when I can, if you'll tell me why you want to learn."
Jay nodded slowly. Suddenly shy again, he blurted, "Big Mack, he tangled with a wildcat. That's why Mama went to town in the first place – to get some whiskey and bandages."
"Big Mack?"
"My dog," Jay explained.
"Where is he now?"
"In the front room. I slept on the settee last night so I could be close. He got hurt bad. Almost as bad as you, Mr. Gabriel."
Brandon's eyes narrowed. The kids had been talking. He hadn't been introduced to Jay formally, and he didn't think Allie had mentioned his name. He wondered what else Jay knew. Had the whole damn town known about his set-up?
"He'll be all right, then," Brandon replied. "If he's only hurt 'almost as bad' as me."
Jay fidgeted on the chair. There was a question he wanted to ask, badly. Brandon waited for it, watching the boy work himself up to it.
"Mr. Gabriel, I've been wondering. Are – Are you my father?"
Brandon felt like he'd been sucker-punched.
Jay took a deep breath while Brandon tried to recover his own. "My mama seems like she knows you – from before, somewhere." He held out his small arm close to Brandon's own dark skin, careful not to touch him. "And there's this – we're both breeds—"
"Hey!" Brandon cut him off sharply. It was one thing for him to use the derogatory name for himself – he was an adult. But to hear Jay using it, calling himself that name in such a matter-of-fact way, cut to the quick. Memories of the days at the orphanage – and before – when that taunt had echoed in his young mind over and over, the way adults and children alike had thrown it at him, those would never fade. Jay, it seemed, had shared the same experience. For some reason, that haunted him.
Jay sat back in the chair abruptly, eyes wide. He gulped, his black eyes riveted on Brandon.
Brandon sighed, grimacing at the sharp pain in his ribs. "Jay—"
"I'm sorry," the boy mumbled. He cast a glance over his shoulder toward the open door. "Please – don't tell Mama I asked. You know – about you bein' my pa."
Brandon swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment. All the years of wondering if he'd ever meet his own father – and what he'd do if he did come face to face with him – weighed heavy on his mind. No one could understand if they hadn't been in that position. A boy wanted to know his father; wanted to make his father proud of him. And, he wanted to be proud of his father, in return.
"I won't," he promised. Allie was coming toward the door. There was no time left for discussion. He had hurt Jay unintentionally; now, there was no time to explain. "We'll talk later."
Jay nodded, and the tightness in his face eased some.
"Thanks for staying with me," Brandon said, and the tension lessened a little more. Just then, Allie came around the corner into the room carrying a steaming mug of the medicinal tea.
She smiled at Brandon as she set the mug on the night table, then patted Jay on the shoulder.
"It's going to be a sparse dinner tonight, I'm afraid. I'm making fried potatoes, and we'll have the leftover biscuits. Sound good?"
Jay nodded enthusiastically. "I'm starving."
"Go ahead and grab a biscuit, to tide you over until the potatoes are done."
As Jay left the room, Allie turned to Brandon. "Let me help you sit up."
"I can do it."
"You'll hurt your hand."
Brandon gritted his teeth, shifting in the bed, then came to a half-sitting position. Allie shook her head at his stubbornness. She held the cup for him as he drank. He slumped back against the pillows, his eyes closed, preparing to finish the rest of the bitter brew.
"I wish you'd let me help you."
Brandon looked at her silently. She put a hand on her hip, holding the cup with her other hand.
"You've done enough," he muttered. "And there's more to come. I'm just tryin' to do what I can on my own."
His arm began to tremble as he supported himself. Maybe the tea would ease some of the pain.
As if she'd heard his thoughts, Allie stepped forward and sat in the chair, extending the cup. "Here. You need to finish it up. I know this doesn't taste very good, but it will help."
He drank another swallow of it.
"But, you know that from experience, I'm sure."