Still, there are two trees down. The branches have been piled to the side, waiting to become easy firewood once they’re dry. And the first tree is already separated into manageable logs. Richter isn’t quite halfway through the second tree, but with the growing light I can see the dark haze on the handle of the axe.
He’s bled for this.
Worked hard to prove he’s a man.
And I never expected him to finish the job in one night, although I would have been impressed if he had.
“You can stop.” Standing, I stretch, feeling my joints arguing in the cold, but it’s a good ache. A low burn in my muscles from sitting in the cold with him.
Richter doesn’t reply as I pick up the empty thermos. The axe just hangs from his hand, the head of it buried in the snow, his arms limp at his sides. He’s tired, and bleeding, and maybe now he’ll actually listen to me. Maybe he’ll accept the love this family could have for him like Skylar did last night.
She did so well.
For a moment I remember the way she was stretched out on Sierra’s bed, so close to her bliss as Casey touched her. I couldn’t resist touching her soft lips, sliding my finger into her mouth when she let out another sweet sound—and then she’d drawn me in. Sucked on my finger like she needed it.
I’d wanted to pull her to the edge of the bed and let her really taste me, show her how to express her love like I have with each of my children… but Richter was outside. Alone. In the dark. And although it was a punishment, I didn’t want to leave him alone too long.
My self-control has always been my strength, and so I’d stepped back. Patted Casey on the shoulder so he knew I was proud of him without words, and then I waved to the rest of my girls. They always like to watch, to get involved, and I can only hope that they continued to show Skylar what is possible here. If she just accepts our love and joins us.
That thought pulls my gaze back to Richter who is still staring at the ground, breathing hard.
“You did well, Richter. Look at what you were able to accomplish with your hands.” I gesture across the clearing. “All of this wood will be a part of a chicken coop in the spring, and you made that possible.”
He still doesn’t answer. He’s not even looking at me, but that’s okay. I know he has a lot to think about, and his body is beyond exhausted at this point.
“Let’s get you inside. We’ll warm you up, tend to your hands, and let you rest before breakfast.” Moving closer, I watch him carefully. The way his body sways a bit on his feet, the slight shiver as the sweat on his skin continues to cool. Reaching down, I take the axe from him and lift it onto my shoulder. “Come on.”
Without waiting for a response, I start the walk back to the house. It’s easier in the early dawn light, and as color returns to the world I can’t ignore the stains on the handle of the axe. I left similar stains on the shovel that Luke made me use to bury Stephanie, and while it had hurt my heart at the time… I know it helped me be a better man.
Hard work shapes us, molds us, and while I meant this as a punishment, I think it will help Richter in the long run.
I’m sure it’s something he won’t forget.
A lesson from brother to brother.
A lesson our father never taught him.
We’re almost back to the edge of the woods when I hear Richter’s footsteps stop and I turn to look at him.
“We’re almost there,” I encourage, and he finally looks up at me.
“Bryden…” His gaze flicks over my face, and I turn toward him completely, sensing that there is something important happening inside him.
“Yes, Richter?”
“Did Dad have you do that? Chop down trees?” he asks, and I notice how his hands keep flexing. Probably so cold he can’t feel the pain yet.
“No trees.” Shaking my head, I glance toward the brightening pieces of sky through the trees. Hints of pink hitting the lower clouds as the sun pushes the darkness back. “Mostly yard work. Had to dig up a big rock from the yard and move it once. Took me a few days, and I wasn’t allowed back in his house until I was done.”
“Why did he make you do that? What did you do?”
“I didn’t clean the kitchen right,” I answer, catching the flicker of confusion on his face. “Luke told me that if I couldn’t clean inside the house the right way, then I’d make the yard look better. So, he told me to move the rock and backfill the hole it left.”
“Because you didn’t clean the kitchen?” Richter asks, and I know that before last night it would have been doubt in his voice. Now… it’s something else. I can tell he believes me. He just never saw that side of our father.
“Yes, because I didn’t clean the kitchen well enough.” I tilt my head in the direction of the house. “I know you’re cold, Richter. Let’s go inside.”
He nods, falling into silence again, and I don’t press him. Whatever he’s thinking about is important, and I know that whatever he decides now will determine his fate.
Above ground with his family, or in the ground alone.
When we leave the shelter of the trees, he blinks at the sun on the horizon. It’s all the brighter due to the snow, and I feel a little proud that he made it through the night to see the sun
