Page 64 of Always to Remember
“Would you honor me with this dance?”
They walked to an area where lanterns hung from tree limbs. “Thank you for asking me to dance. This is my favorite song.”
They began to waltz. “Clay asked me to dance with you if they played this song, and you weren’t already dancing.”
“I’m sorry for everything my father and Daniel said during the meal today—”
Lucian shook his head. “For the most part, I feel the same way they do, or I thought I did. I don’t understand him, Meg. Why’d he stay?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t know why it hurt to see him stay, but it did.”
They lost the rhythm of the music, their steps becoming little more than two people swaying in place as people danced around them.
“When we were younger,” Lucian began, “he used to give me his dessert at suppertime if I promised to sit still for him the next day so he could carve my likeness.”
“He showed me his graveyard,” Meg said. “I saw an angel that looked familiar.”
Lucian smiled. “That was supposed to be me. You have to be quiet when he’s carving because he thinks so hard he forgets other people are around. If he’s got a hammer and chisel in his hands …” He shook his head at a memory. “I was sitting for him, and he was working to carve my face. I saw this deer slipping through the trees. I said something to Clay about it, and my nose went flying off that piece of stone. He got so upset, he threw down his tools and ran to the house. Don’t know what he said to Ma, but the next thing I know, she’s running outside hollerin’ for Pa to go get Dr. Martin because Clay cut off my nose.”
She laughed at the image his words created. She could imagine Clay saying he’d cut off Lucian’s nose. To him, stone was as important as a person.
“Why did you ask him to make the monument?” Lucian asked quietly.
The music drifted into silence, and Meg answered with the truth. “I don’t know anymore.”
Sitting on the porch, Clay felt the night wind ruffle his hair. As far as miserable days in his life went, today ranked right near the top.
He’d gone to the shed at dawn and stared at the granite. He’d chipped off a piece here and there, but he’d found no joy in his actions. He hadn’t enjoyed working on the monument since he’d made the headstone for Tom’s baby girl. The statue was just something he wanted to finish now. Finish it and be done with it.
And move on.
He wanted to live someplace that didn’t have the scent of honeysuckle in the air. He wanted to live someplace where women didn’t have blue eyes.
Stretching out his legs, he leaned back on his elbows. It’d probably be best if he lived someplace that didn’t have women at all.
He’d gone to the Wrights’ farm because as much as he hated the way Meg watched him work, he hated the thought of a day without her in it even more.
From his distant vantage point, he thought she’d been the prettiest woman there. He’d wanted to walk up to her just to see if her blue dress made her eyes look as blue as he thought it might. He’d caught her laughter on the wind and held onto it to ease his loneliness, a loneliness that deepened when he noticed how much attention Robert Warner bestowed upon her, how much attention she gave Robert.
A shadow moved through the night. He sat up as Lucian came into view. “Wasn’t expecting you home so early.”
Lucian shrugged. “Danced a couple of dances with Taffy, then thought I’d best head on home and not push my luck.”
“Did you dance with Meg?”
“Yep.”
“I appreciate it.”
Lucian leaned against the beam that ran from the porch to the eaves. “Tucker from the mercantile offered to extend me credit.” He shifted his stance. “As long as I give him my word you won’t eat any of the supplies I pick up.”
Slowly, Clay nodded. “Does he want it in writing? I could sign a statement—”
“God damn it!” Lucian tore his hat from his head, stepped away from the porch, and glared at Clay. “Why the hell won’t you fight?”
“What do you want me to do? Go into town and beat him up? What would that gain us?”
“Some respect.”
