And he’d overheard what his mother said, when he’d been sarcastic about the Christmas tree and the whole idea of celebrating the holiday. In college he’d been taught that God was a myth, a superstition that held people back from excelling in life. His gorgeous female physics professor had assured her class of that. Ren had a crush on her, so he believed everything she said.
He’d gone home, with that new idea fixed in his mind. Then his mother had talked about Christmas and she’d been so excited about a pageant her church had planned. He’d made fun of it—and her—for being ignorant enough to believe in superstition and myth instead of science. She’d burst into tears and gone running in the kitchen to Randall for comfort. Then she’d said things that destroyed any love Ren had left for her, things he’d overheard when he’d gone to apologize. She’d said that her second husband was kind and gentle, that Ren’s father had been cold and cruel and unfeeling. Ren, she said, was just like her first husband. Randall was everything a true son should be.
Ren, devastated by what he’d heard, had gone out the door before they came out of the kitchen. He hadn’t seen or spoken to his mother since. Stupid, he thought, to carry a grudge for that long. His mother might die. How would he feel if he waited too long, as Delsey had?
It was something to think about. But not tonight. He turned up the sound on the TV and listened, as the newscast explained what money laundering was, and related it to a huge bust that had netted the government millions of dollars in a recent investigation. A picture of a man flashed on the screen, a Comanche Wells citizen with a last name that Ren might have recognized.But he was looking at a programming guide for something to watch when it went by, and when he raised his head, they had moved on to another story.
He changed the channel to a murder mystery he’d watched before and liked.
*
THE PHONE RANG. Ren pushed the pause button and picked up the telephone.
“Hello?”
“Hi!” It was Randall.
He chuckled. “How are you?”
“Selling cattle. You’ll be proud. How’s my girl?” he added.
Ren felt his body clench. “Your girl is fine. Did you know that she could draw like a professional artist?”
“Yes, I did.” He chuckled. “Isn’t she awesome? When she feeds birds outside, she has to shoo them off the feeders. They aren’t afraid of her.” Ren knew that because Merrie had told him.
“She drew a picture of Willis’s wolf.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have let her near Snowpaw. He’s got an attitude problem...”
“He laid his head in her lap and let her pet him.”
“Good heavens!”
“She has a real talent with animals, too. Remember Hurricane?”
“Yes. I hope the man serves time,” he added coldly.
“No doubt he will. We couldn’t get near Hurricane even to get his bridle off. Your girl—” the words went through him like ice daggers “—walked right up to him and he let her remove it. I thought the boys were going to pass out. He threw one of them into a pile of tin. Had to have stitches.”
“Tames wolves and paints beautiful portraits.” Randall chuckled. “She’s something, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
Randall hesitated. He wanted to tell his brother that she wasn’t like his other girls, that Merrie was special. But he didn’t know how to bring it up without putting his brother on the defensive.
“Delsey said your mother called today,” Ren said. He never said “my mother.” He always said “your mother” when he spoke about her to Randall.
He sighed sadly. Ren was never going to relent. “Yes. She’s not doing well. They found a growth on one of her breasts. They did a biopsy, to see if it’s cancer. She doesn’t know anything yet.”
“I see.”
Randall hesitated. He loved his brother. But in spite of everything, he loved his mother, too. He hated the distance between the only family he had in the world.
“Tell her,” Ren said stiffly, “that I hope things turn out all right.”
Randall’s heart lifted. “I’ll tell her,” he promised. Ren’s attitude had changed very suddenly. He wondered if Merrie had something to do with it.
“Delsey said she refused to talk to her father. He died two days later. She said,” he continued, “that it was wrong to let time run out and never try to mend fences. Maybe she’s right.”
Randall didn’t say anything. He just waited for Ren to continue.
“I’ll think about it,” Ren said finally. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“Okay,” his brother said softly. “That’s fine, Ren.”
“I’m taking Meredith to a party tomorrow night, because I don’t want to go alone,” he said, trying to sound indifferent. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” Randall replied. “Watch her around men, will you?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to put into words. She’s okay around the cowboys, I guess. Not so shy?”
“No. She gets along with all of them. Even Willis.”
“She’s different when it’s men her age,” Randall continued. “She gets all quiet and tries to hide behind me. She doesn’t like men coming too close to her. So keep that in mind, will you? Any party that Angie’s going to will have men who drink to excess. You know that already.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Ren said curtly.
“Okay. Thanks. She’s...special. You know?”