“Don’t you cuss at me, boy,” Daniel said. “I can still tan your hide.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Jonah stood and loomed over Daniel. “Try it now.”
“Back off, son,” Daniel said.
“I ain’t your son,” Jonah said through his teeth. “You ain’t my pa. You’ll never be my pa.” Jonah ran off into the woods.
Will squirmed while watching the exchange. Jonah’s shout at Daniel was exactly what Will had said to Mac. The difference was everyone knew about Daniel and Jonah. And everyone knew who Jonah’s father was.
But no one knew Mac wasn’t Will’s father. And no one—not even Mama—could identify who his father was. He shivered despite the sun, once again feeling alone in the world.
After Jonah stormed off, Will continued plowing with Daniel and Sammy. Sammy took Jonah’s place with the mules, and Daniel managed the other team alone. At dusk, Will returned home.
As he rode Shanty into the backyard and dismounted, Cal entered the yard from the kitchen. Rufus rushed out behind Cal and sniffed Will’s feet. “Where you been all day?” Cal asked.
“Jonah’s.” Will took Shanty into his stall and started currying him.
Cal followed. “Pa asked where you were.”
Will shrugged and continued caring for his horse.
“You’ll get in trouble.” Cal brought a handful of oats over to Shanty. The gelding pulled away from Will to nibble the treat from Cal’s hand.
“Leave Shanty be,” Will said. “I need to rub him down.”
“He likes the oats.”
“Maybe he does, but I need to finish here before supper, and clean myself up as well.”
Cal held his hand up to Shanty’s nose again.
“Quit being such a little pest,” Will shouted.
“I hate you,” Cal shouted back. “You take Shanty off all day to see your friend, while I’m stuck parsing sentences in school. It’s not fair.”
“I had to parse sentences, too, when I was your age.”
“I don’t care,” Cal said. “I still hate you.”
“Well, I hate you, too,” Will said, violating Mama’s rule not to speak ill of their siblings. But then, Cal broke the rule first. “I worked hard all day, and I want my supper on time.”
“You’re not too old for Pa to whup you,” Cal said. “You left home again without telling anyone.”
Will cringed at the reminder Mac was Cal’s father, not his. “You should be the first he whups,” he said. “After stealing Maria’s horse the way you did.”
“You already whupped me,” Cal said. “And you got in trouble for it.”
“I’d whup you again,” Will said. He wouldn’t really, but Cal didn’t need to know that. “You broke my best carving, and I don’t want to live in the same house as you. You wreck everything.”
Cal’s face fell, and he turned away. As the younger boy left, Will murmured to himself, “Ever since you were born, I’ve had no place here. No place in my own home.”
When Mac walked through the hallway before supper, he saw Maria alone in the parlor. He still hadn’t said anything to her after he’d learned about Will kissing her. He went into the room and sat across from her. “What are you doing, daughter?”
“Sewing on buttons.” The movements of her hands were as quick and sure as Jenny’s—Maria had been trained well.
“About Will—” he began.
The blush on her tan cheeks rose immediately. “Pa—”
“I told your mother I’d talk to you.”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to. I talked to Mama.”
“I’ve spoken to Will.”
Maria looked up, her face now paling. “Don’t blame Will—”
“Well, then, who do I blame?” His anger at the boy rose as quickly as her blush had.
“No one, Pa. There’s no need to blame anyone.”
Despite Cal’s prediction that Will would get in trouble, nothing was said at supper about his absence that day. Mac glared at him, but that was it.
