Page 26 of Always to Remember
“And two sarsaparilla sticks,” Clay said.
“You got kids?” the man asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, then, take the sweets and a couple more canned goods, but don’t go telling anybody I have a soft heart.”
Clay’s lips lifted slightly as he promised. “I won’t.”
Meg stood silently as he boxed up his supplies and slipped the sarsaparilla sticks into his shirt pocket. Lifting the box off the counter, he turned and froze, his gaze meeting hers. His face burned a deep scarlet before he walked past her. “Don’t suppose you’d get the door for me.”
Stepping around him, she opened the door. Once he stepped through, she followed. “He cheated you.”
“How do you figure that?” he asked as he placed the box on the wagon seat.
“That watch was worth much more than that piddling amount of food.”
“It was only worth what I could get for it, and this is all I could get.”
“Mr. Tucker at the general store in Cedar Grove would have given you more. You should have taken your business to him.”
“I tried, Mrs. Warner, but he’ll only deal with me if I can pay with cash. At the moment, I can’t.” “Was that your father’s watch?”
He shoved on the box even though he’d already pushed it back as far as it could go. “My grandfather’s. We’ll need to rent some oxen to pull the wagon. The stone will make it too heavy for the mule. Just outside of town there’s a farmer who’ll give us a fair price.”
Meg wished she hadn’t noticed how he’d rushed on as though he didn’t want to acknowledge what he’d just sacrificed for his family. She briefly wondered what else he might have sacrificed. “I saw you in the alley last night. Is that where you slept?”
“Didn’t sleep.”
“Why in the world didn’t you?”
“Didn’t like the looks of some of the men standing around the hotel. Wanted to make sure you were safe.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw. “Even with the oxen, it’ll be a slow journey back. We’d best get started, get that marble you want.” He began to climb on the wagon.
“I—” She stopped speaking when he dropped back down to the ground and looked at her. She licked her lips. “Last night, I didn’t think about the marble.”
He gave her half a smile. “I’m not surprised. I let you see how badly I wanted the granite. My mistake.”
She tilted her chin. “I thought about the marker you made for my mother. Do you remember it?”
“I remember everything I’ve ever carved. It’s like when I carve something in wood or stone, I carve it into my memory at the same time.”
“What was the marker made of?”
“Granite. That’s what me and Pa always used.”
“That’s what I thought. Do you honestly think the granite is the better choice?”
“No, ma’am.”
His response startled her. Maybe he had thought things through last night and come to the realization that she did indeed know which rock was better suited for the monument. “You don’t?”
“No, ma’am. If you wanted a memorial to stand in silent tribute to those who died, then the granite would be the rock to purchase. But that’s not what you want. I don’t know what it is you do want, but you won’t get it with the marble.”
“I asked my question in all earnestness.”
He removed his hat, combed his long fingers through his thick hair, and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. My opinion on the matter hasn’t changed since yesterday.”
She lowered her gaze and pretended to study her scuffed boots so he wouldn’t see the arguments playing havoc with her heart. She preferred the marble. Clay was unfamiliar with the stone. He would be forced to question and doubt each cut he made in the stone just as she wanted him to question and doubt the choices he made during the war. But if he made one error in judgment as great as the one he made when he failed to enlist, all her efforts would be for naught.
