“Lookit what we have here,” Robert had drawled one afternoon shortly after David’s death, sliding from his heaving horse and approaching Daniel, who might’ve sniffed a time or two but was tearless. “A little c-c-c-c-cry b-b-b-b-ba-baby!”
“Stop that, Rob,” Will had ordered, jumping to the ground and following a bit slower, leading his horse who wasn’t breathing nearly as hard. “Quit mocking him. You know he can’t help it.”
They’d come upon Daniel while riding over the extensive Tremayne estate, lands that, to a playful boy, had once meant fun and freedom but that now provided only silence and solace. Silence from his father’s accusations; solace in the form of memories.
Daniel, still grieving the loss of his best friend and twin, had returned to the scene. Only this time, instead of climbing the tree and laughingly daring David to follow, he’d hunkered down at the base and tried not to cry. Tried with such agonizing effort, he’d bitten his lips so hard, two teeth pierced skin.
“M-m-m-m-mmmmocking him!” Robert had chortled, waving a thin stick in Daniel’s face, perilously close to his lips. The very branch he’d been using to whip his horse into a lather moments before. “Stupid t-t-t-t-toad. I still cannot believe I’m saddled with the imbecile for a spare.”
Robert used the branch to slap Daniel on the head, prompting the little boy to scramble to his feet. But he held his ground, proud. Not a single tear had fallen. Not before and not now. Turning to his friend, Robert continued, both his attack and his hateful tirade. “Papa’s livid he wasn’t the one to fall—”
“Rob, I said to stop!” Will snatched the weapon and snapped it in half.
By now, the stick had landed twice more on Daniel’s cheeks, leaving twin red welts. “Hate you!”
“Very good,” Robert said snidely, bowing as though he were at court. “You managed that without stammering like a fool. Care to try again? B-b-b-b-bet you can’t do it t-t-t-twice!”
“Come on.” Will gave Robert a friendly shove toward their grazing horses. “Quit being such a bastard. We don’t want to miss—”
“Leave off. He doesn’t mind, hardly even notices. Too stupid to care.” Robert whipped around and snaked back to Daniel. Where he kicked one tiny ankle, causing his younger brother to stumble to his knees. “D-d-d-d-don’t stay out t-t-t-t-too late. You might get l-l-l-l-lost.”
“Good God, you’re an evil one sometimes, Rob.”
Daniel couldn’t miss the look of sympathy Will shot his way before he convinced Robert if they didn’t leave now, they’d miss the big race.
Evidently seeing whether Lord Woltren’s new phaeton could stay upright on a particularly sharp curve surpassed the enticement of plaguing a younger brother.
Will mounted his horse—and after one last, lingering and compassionate glance at Daniel—turned toward Robert. “You arse—there are days I detest your mean streak.”
Robert just laughed and whipped his horse with the reins.
Seconds later, the older boys rode off.
Leaving Daniel no longer feeling like crying. Just angry.
Angry that David had died while Robert lived.
Mean, snide Robert who made fun of Ellie too. Because she dared to be a girl, one who’d started sucking her thumb again after the burial just days ago.
Already back on his feet after facing Robert’s taunts, only somewhat mollified by the continued influence Will Penry had on his rotten brother, Daniel turned back to the tree.
This time, though, he didn’t climb it. Didn’t sink down beside it to mourn.
No, this time he attacked it. Slapping and pummeling the bark until the skin on his knuckles and palms scraped off and drops of blood flew along with every flush hit. Scratching with his nails at the living embodiment of the one thing he could blame who couldn’t take him to task. Who couldn’t talk back—or mock him if he was dumb enough to say a single, stupid word.
And then he was crying. Crying so hard he couldn’t breathe, could only pound at the tree while sobbing out his sorrow.
Thunk! The side of his right fist slammed into the bark. I hate my dumb mouth.
Thawk! He hit again, just as hard. So I just won’t use it.
Whack! Bam! The left fist followed suit, pain radiating up his arm when it greeted the tree. Who needs to talk?
Pow! Despite the broken finger, both hands clawed and fought the offending monster where once two boys had laughed and played. Pow-pow!
Oh God. David’s gone.
I miss him so much!
Stinging from the punishing blows, his arms slowly gave out. It took everything in him to raise the right one again and land it against the strong tree. Bam!
How I miss him.
Bam!
Daniel feinted left when he should’ve gone right and leaned directly into the oncoming fist.
“Ompfff!” Everson clouted him harder than expected. And he had been expecting it, purposefully angling into the hit.
It was only what he deserved. A thorough beating for his sorry-arse actions toward the man’s son a couple days ago.
Unknowingly or not, with Penry’s continued absence, Everson had stepped in to fill the void.
It was nearing 2 p.m. At least by now, he knew what had happened to his missing friend: rumor was Penry’s second eldest had received three offers this week—two this very morning. For a man with multiple daughters, this was accounted a very good thing.
No wonder he hadn’t put in an appearance even though Daniel had lingered beyond the appointed time, sparring with several others before inviting Everson to join him, only slightly reluctant when Everson had suggested they wrap their hands.
Laughingly, the man had claimed he didn’t want Tremayne to be at a disadvantage, sparring with so many today. He had no inkling how lucky he was about to feel, by stepping into the ring with the guilt-ridden lout who’d disrespected and disillusioned his youngest son.
Smack! He twisted to the side, just in time for that one to glance—heavily—off his ribs.
Daniel had been more than a little surprised Everson treated him with the
