“Perhaps,” Maria said. “If Mama doesn’t need me.”
“I’ll ask her,” Will said. “I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
Maria smiled. “Mama doesn’t refuse you much, does she?”
“That’s because I’m so reasonable.” Will didn’t think Mama favored him over the others. If anything, Mama expected more of him as the oldest. Just as she expected more of Maria than the other girls because she was older. Though Maria was more responsible and nicer than any of his other siblings.
After supper, Maria showed the family the wood carving Will gave her. Will beamed with pride—Maria seemed more taken with his whittling than with any other gift she’d received. Eliza and Lottie wanted to touch the little horse. Nate pretended to trot it around the parlor floor until Mama told him to stop. Cal fidgeted as if he wanted to get his hands on the wooden figure.
Will sat in a corner across the room while the younger children crowded around Maria. She was fourteen now, almost grown for a girl. Mama had barely been fifteen when Will was born, and he knew several girls who’d married at fourteen. Would Maria marry soon? The idea made him angry, and he wondered why.
Must be because she’s my sister, he mused. No boy wants to think of a man touching his sister.
But she wasn’t really his sister, only an adopted sister.
As he’d grown older, Will realized from comments his parents made that Maria’s mother had been a prostitute. Once he’d learned what a prostitute did, he’d wondered if Pa wasn’t Maria’s father after all, despite what Pa and Mama said. So perhaps Maria was his sister—his half-sister anyway.
He still thought she was the prettiest girl he’d ever known. Her black hair turned almost blue in sunlight. Her dark eyes were deeper than the starry sky. She flashed a smile brighter than the sun. Will wished she’d smile at him more often.
Will would fight any man who wanted Maria for a wife. Only if she loved the man would Will let her wed. And then, only if the man were good enough for her.
Chapter 7: An Uncertain Future
On Friday afternoon, April 1, Will came home from the academy in bad humor, as he had earlier in the week after seeing the poor grade on his essay. Last night, he’d forgotten an algebra assignment, and the teacher ridiculed him in class today. It was just a mistake—he didn’t forget assignments often. The teacher made him stay after school and do the problems before he left. And he still hadn’t told Mama and Pa about the essay.
When he got home, he found Maria in tears. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I can’t find the horse you gave me. I lost it.”
His school problems seemed less important as he put an arm around her shoulders. “I can make you another.” Though the next horse probably wouldn’t be as good. He discovered the animals as he carved the wood, and every piece of wood was different. But he could whittle her something new.
“Thank you,” she said, stifling a sob. “But the first one was so nice.”
The evening meal was glum. The whole family debated where Maria’s horse might be.
“It’s only a silly carving,” Cal said.
“Maybe to you,” Maria retorted. “But Will gave it to me. I loved it.”
Later that evening, after the younger children were in bed, Will, Maria, and Cal sat with their parents in the parlor. Maria took her usual chair near the fireplace. “Ouch,” she exclaimed after she sat. She stood and picked up the seat cushion. “It’s Shanty,” she said, holding up the missing wooden horse.
“April Fool’s,” Cal crowed. “I hid it.”
“The tail broke off.” Maria picked up the tail from under the cushion and cradled the two pieces of Will’s carving in her hands.
Distraught at seeing his hard work damaged, Will examined the figurine. The tail had snapped off cleanly. “Maybe I can glue it back,” he said to Maria.
“I’m sorry,” Cal said. “I didn’t mean for it to break.” His exuberance shifted to a remorseful tone.
Will’s temper flared at Cal’s heedlessness. “Saying sorry isn’t enough,” he hissed. “I worked hard on that horse. I made it for Maria.” His fist shot out and cracked against Cal’s cheekbone.
The younger boy fell to the floor.
“Will,” Pa shouted. “Go to your room.”
Will hesitated, already repenting his action.
“Now,” Pa said.
As Will turned to go, Mama knelt beside Cal. “It’s not even cut,” she said. “But it’ll bruise. Let’s go put some meat on it.” And she led Cal toward the kitchen.
Once in his room, Will threw himself on the bed. He’d seen Maria’s reproachful stare after he hit Cal. He hadn’t intended to hit his brother. But Cal’s foolish act damaged Will’s gift to Maria, a gift she treasured.
How could he and Cal be brothers? Will wondered, as he often had over the years. Cal ambled blissfully through his days, not caring what happened. Will cared about everything.
He remembered when Cal was born. Until then, he’d been the only boy. Maria had been there, but she was a girl. And she was adopted. Will was Mama’s firstborn, her real child, and that made him feel special.
Then Cal came. After Cal was born, Will watched his parents smile at each other and down at Cal as if the baby were the only child in the world. Will felt left out of their triad, distant from his parents and their newborn. Maybe that’s when he decided it would be him and Maria against the world. Cal was the interloper, the one who stole Will’s parents.
Mac followed Jenny and Cal into the kitchen. “Let me see, son,” he said, tipping Cal’s chin to inspect the injured cheek. It was already swelling—the boy would have a shiner for sure. “It’s a whopper,” he said. “But it’ll heal.”
