Page 4 of Resilience on Canvas

But how else was he to calm the storm of upset that was brewing inside him?

Robert retrieved a matchbox out of his other pocket. After a brief moment of hesitation, he lit one of the cigarettes and brought it to his lips. Sucking in an inhale, Robert relished the warmth spreading throughout his chest. Exhaling, Robert looked up at the sky. It was a clear night, and the smattering of stars was providingjustenough light to illuminate some of their property. Robert could see the outline of their barn, filled with farming equipment that they never used no more, and he could see the wooden posts of the fence surrounding the cow pasture, too.

In the cloak of the evening, Robert could almost pretend that everything was the way it used to be only a few short years ago, when they’d had rows of wheat stalks and a field for the cattle to graze. He could let the blackness of nighttime transport him into the past, where he could hear his mother, her bubbly laughter not yet choked by the consumption that had eventually taken her from this world.

He could, for a moment, remember happier times.

While Robert was puffing on his cigarette, Clara came out of the house, her light steps barely even making the floorboards creak beneath her.

“I thought you were stoppin’ that,” she said, tapping his hand that was holding the cigarette. “We’re barely catchin’ our breaths as it is.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. He took one more pull before snuffing the cigarette out on the porch floor. “Just... needed one.”

Clara sat beside him, curling her legs to her chest.

“Are you upset with me?” she asked.

Robert cocked an eyebrow. “Why would I be?”

“I must have ruined things with Henry somehow,” she said, her soft voice barely above a whisper. “I swear I’ve been nice to him. Nottoonice, though, you know? I never wanted him to think he was marryin’ someone who had no morals. But maybe... maybe I—”

Robert snorted. “Clara, yer practically the picture of purity. Ain’t no way that Henry thinks otherwise. I’m sure he still wants to marry you. Maybe he’s feelin’ nervous now that the weddin’ is so close.”

Clara let out a hum. And Robert prayed to God that he was right.

Over the next half hour, the two siblings sat together on the porch, watching the stars twinkle and listening to the crickets chirp.

All the while, Robert’s mind kept returning to the state of things—their sorry farm and their sorry lives—and shame settled over him, heavy and uncomfortable, like a blanket in the middle summer, making his face flush and his pits sweat. Everyone was counting on him.

But try as he might, he couldn’t seem to fix everything that had been broken.

Chapter Two

Henry

WhileHenrySherwoodwasrestocking the cans of soup in the largest corner store in Guymon, he kept on looking over his shoulder to check for customers. Specifically, Henry was checking for Clara Davis, the woman he was supposed to marry in less than a month. Every time he heard the little entryway bell clang, icy panic ran through his veins, making him shudder. He knew he shouldn’t have ignored her when she’d come to purchase some necessities yesterday. And yet, the moment he’d seen her out of the corner of his eye, he had started toward the stockroom, his legs shaking as he’d practicallyrunto avoid his future wife. And then they had locked eyes. And Henry had turned away.

He couldn’t keep up with the ruse no more.

When Henry’s father had first come to him to tell him that Clara wanted to marry him, or, more likely, Clara’s father wanted them to be married, he had tried hisbestto seem thrilled. Even while the bean stew they’d been having for supper had been trying to climb back up his throat. How he had kept himself from vomiting right then and there, he wasn’t sure. It had been a true miracle.

Henry had spent the following months pretending it wasn’t happening. But now it was April. And he couldn’t pretend no more. Somehow, he’d have to break off the engagement. Either that or follow through with it. Though that’d only lead to more trouble once the wedding night came.

After Henry set the last of the cans on the shelf, he pushed himself to stand.

And then the entry bell rang.

Henry sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. Jesus Christ Almighty. Here it came. Without even looking, Henry knew it had to be Clara. Because why wouldn’t it be? Clara came to the shop every evening or so to buy things—the minimum her family needed for their evening meal or such. And it was nearly closing time. Lord help him.

Swallowing his fear, Henry opened his eyes and whirled back around to face his fate.

He found Robert Davis, the most handsome man in the entirety of the world, of the whole everything in existence, staring back at him, his brown eyes intense as ever, burning with that fire that never failed to make Henry weak in the knees.

“Oh...” Henry’s mouth had somehow become filled with cotton balls, preventing any real words from coming. Dang, how hard would it have been to say something simple, like hello?

Robert didn’t seem to have the same problem. Crossing his arms over his chest, he skipped right over any pleasantries and asked, “Why’d you ignore Clara yesterday?”

Henry still couldn’t talk, so he merely shook his head.

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