A few moments later they unwound themselves from the gathering crowd and fell into line behind the pastor, who began leading the way to the cemetery just visible through the trees.
Directly behind the pastor, the pallbearers walked with the casket, and behind them, Leigh with Jesse, who was now holding a bouquet of flowers someone had given him. Talia fell in with the daughters-in-law, and behind them came the rest of Stanton’s family. Friends came last, moving in an orderly line, and somewhere along the way a man began to sing. The clear notes of “Amazing Grace” swelled up into the air, floated above the heads of the mourners and dispersed out on to the mountain.
Talia watched the pallbearers as they stepped in unison, strong shoulders, broad backs and, in the Samson-like tradition of their father, their long hair loose and hanging far below their shoulders, as they carried Stanton Youngblood to his grave.
Prayers were said.
Someone was crying. Talia couldn’t see for the tears.
She heard another brief passage from the Bible being read as a blessing to the man in the casket now being lowered into the ground.
When Leigh stepped forward and picked up a handful of dirt, it seemed as if everyone held their breath. When she tossed it into the grave and it hit the top of the casket with a splattering sound, they exhaled as one. Jesse threw the flowers he’d been carrying into the grave and then turned away in tears. Talia saw Bowie catch him and hold him like a baby against his chest, patting his back and whispering to him over and over.
Someone in the crowd began to sing. Someone different this time. A young woman with a mountain twang to her voice singing “I’ll Fly Away.” By the time she reached the first chorus, the air was filled with voices joining in.
The songs were nothing Leigh had planned or expected. Just a simple gift from friends and neighbors to a grieving widow, hoping to soothe her heart with a reminder of the heavenly path Stanton was already on.
*
It was nearing 2:00 p.m.
The meal was in full swing, and the occasional sound of gentle laughter could be heard out in the yard. Healing sounds. Sounds of life happening and people moving past the grief.
It would take Leigh Youngblood far longer to reach that place, but she was grateful for the presence of family. Even though the thought of eating was impossible, she’d gone outside to walk among the mourners, a chance for one last thank-you to all of them for helping her lay Stanton to rest.
Bowie was sitting on the edge of the porch, talking to a friend from school when his friend suddenly pointed. “Here comes one more,” he said.
Bowie recognized the man coming up the drive on foot.
“Excuse me a minute,” he said, and headed toward his mother, who was facing the house and had no idea her brother was approaching.
*
Blake was certain that this was one of the scariest things he’d ever had to do. He wasn’t even sure he would make it off the mountain alive, and truthfully, the way he’d been feeling for the past few days, it would be a kindness if his misery would end here and now.
He saw Leigh almost immediately. Even though her back was turned, she was impossible to miss.
And then he saw one of her sons and stopped, waiting to see if he would even be allowed to speak to her.
He watched the tall, black-haired man slip his hand beneath his mother’s elbow and then whisper in her ear. He knew she must be shocked by the way she stiffened, and then she slowly turned to face him.
They stared then, sister and brother, until the thirty years of exile and the heartbreak of what had been done to her found another place to be.
She moved toward him with her son at her side as three more of her boys came running to join her. They said nothing, but they clearly weren’t letting him talk to her alone.
“This is not a place where you will ever be welcome, so what are you doing here?” Leigh asked.
Blake’s voice was shaking when he spoke.
“I didn’t come to say I’m sorry, because there’s no way to apologize for murder. We had a family meeting after Uncle Jack’s arrest, and in a unanimous decision, the only thing we could think to do that would count for anything was to give the land back to everyone who was forced from their homes, along with money enough for them to rebuild what was torn down. Although it counts for nothing to you, we did it in your husband’s name. His name is listed as the owner of each property, and it’s his name that’s on the release giving back the land to each family for the sum of one dollar. He wanted to save them. It seems only fitting that the credit for it happening goes to him, as well.”
Leigh reached for the son closest to her and held on. She could not show weakness to a Wayne. She hadn’t back then when they’d cast her out of the family, and she wasn’t going to do it now.
Blake was still talking.