Loaded Guns and Broken Fences [On Hold]

Chapter 36

Being alone with Bran hadn't exactly been what Tom had imagined it would be. Granted, he wasn't really sure what he'd expected. He just hoped that he and Bran getting an early start on the chores would spare them some of the women's disdain for not having gone with them to church. The animals did need to eat, Sunday or not. And Tom certainly had never seen the almighty put a hold on the bowel movements of livestock to spare anyone the humble task of cleaning up after them.

Tom sat another log on the solid stump for Bran to split and backed away, shielding his fair face from the brilliant sun. "'Spose they're gettin' on okay in town?"

Bran paused before lifting the axe as he considered Tom's question.

"I'd imagine as much as they can." He'd settled on that answer, but he just didn't know. His aunts were tough, but God hadn't exactly been kind to them. He swung, letting the weight of the tool do most of the work.

Tom's gaze lingered on Bran for a little while longer than it probably should have before he moved to place the next log. "I know it ain't much help now, but at least there's yer brother's weddin' to look forward to, right? There hasn't been one'a those in a spell..." He steadied the log and took a few steps backward. "Sometimes I dunno why my sister ain't married yet," Tom said, paying close attention to Bran's heat flushed face when he mentioned Abby.

"I could say the same for Mary." Bran let the axe fall again but this time it got caught on a wood knot and it took an extra swing to free it.

"Or you."

Bran gave a single half snort. "I guess ya got a point."

Tom scratched at his temple. He supposed he found Allen easier to talk to since talking to him was a lot like talking to his sister... that, and he didn't get flutters in his chest around Allen the way he did when he was with Bran. Thinking of the tall blond sparked something in his head he'd been meaning to ask, though.

"Hey, ya know Albert Shield?"

"Yeah."

"Is he Allen's pa? They look an awful lot alike..."

"Yeah, you noticed, huh?" Bran swung the axe onto his shoulder and laughed. "I remember when Betty first let that slip. He come runnin' all the way down the pasture shoutin' we couldn't call him a bastard no more cus he has a pa."

"Why didn't Ms. Betty move in with him--get married?"

"Grandad was against it, from what I heard. Celly said Albert tried to change his mind for a while but eventually he stopped trying. Aunt Betty won't say nothing on the matter. She clams up if you even mention it 'round her."

Betty was never a very strong woman. When Celly spoke, everyone listened, but poor aunt Betty barely had a voice.

"I'm sure the war got in the way too," Tom added. He'd always sort of assumed that his real father had blown into town and kept moving on to go fight the south while Horace was away doing the same. Probably didn't have a mind to come back for a woman that didn't belong to him or a kid he didn't want.

Bran shrugged. "Maybe." Growing up it was something that he'd been aware of but never really questioned. What little he did know was from Allen or Celly and that had always satisfied most of his curiosity.

As silence fell between them once more, Bran set another log on the stump. "Sometimes I think Allen's got the right idea...being with men's probably easier. No kids or marriage to worry bout." The ax fell, splitting the wood halves into quarters.

Tom huffed out a breath as he stared at the ground, hands on his hips, with a grin that he had no chance of hiding.

"Yeah," Tom said, rolling a rock under the sole of his boot. "It ain't as easy as it sounds, though...not many men like Allen 'round here."