Chapter 6 - The Wound He Hid
Felix’s hand closed around the porch railing.
For a moment, Betsy thought he might answer her. Then the chickens scattered in the yard behind them.
Felix turned toward the tree line.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I saw movement near the south pasture this morning.”
“A deer?”
“Maybe.”
He gave Apollo back to her and went to fetch his coat. By the time Betsy stepped off the porch, he had crossed half the yard.
“Felix.”
He stopped.
“If there’s someone out there, come back and tell me.”
“I will.”
She watched him disappear beyond the windbreak.
An hour passed. Then two. Apollo slept and woke and fed. Betsy tried to keep busy in the kitchen, but every creak of the porch made her look up.
Felix returned near sunset, carrying a length of torn wire.
“The south fence is cut,” he said.
“By an animal?”
“With a blade.”
He put the wire on the table and moved toward the sink. His left arm hung too close to his side.
“Show me,” Betsy said.
“It’s a scratch.”
“Show me the scratch.”
Felix looked toward Apollo, who slept in the cradle by the stove. “I don’t want to wake him.”
“Then be quiet while I get the bandages.”
The cut ran across Felix’s upper arm. It was shallow at one end and deeper at the other, where something sharp had caught him as he pulled the wire free. Betsy cleaned it while he sat at the table.
He held still until the water touched the deeper part. Then he flinched.
“You could have told me when you came in,” she said.
“I’m telling you now.”
“Because I noticed.”
“Yes.”
Betsy pressed a clean cloth to the wound. “Was anyone there?”
“I found boot prints. Two people, perhaps three. They’d left before I reached the fence.”
“Could they be the men who hunted you?”
“I don’t know.”
Felix looked away as she wrapped the bandage. “There were tracks leading toward the road. I followed them far enough to make sure they weren’t circling back.”
“With an injured arm.”
“I got hurt while following them.”
“You can admit that it hurts.”
“I know it hurts.”
“Then let me care about it.”
He turned to her. The room had grown dim around them, but he could see the anger in her eyes and the fear beneath it.
“I’m here,” he said.
“I know. I spent the afternoon wondering if you would be.”
Felix’s expression softened. Betsy tied off the bandage and sat across from him. She had held herself together while he was gone. Now that he had returned, her hands would not stop shaking.
“I said I’d come back,” he told her.
“You did. Please come back sooner next time.”
“I’ll try.”
Apollo woke with a hungry whimper. Betsy went to him, grateful for something she knew how to do. Felix stayed at the table, watching her carry the baby into the next room.
When she returned, Apollo had fallen asleep against her shoulder. She found Felix examining the bandage.
“Too tight?” she asked.
“No. It’s good.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I’m used to doing it myself.”
“Do you ever do anything badly?”
“I made a terrible stew last winter.”
“I’d like to hear about that later.”
He almost smiled. “You might not.”
Outside, headlights briefly swept across the far field. Both of them went still. A vehicle traveled along the county road without turning toward the farm.
Felix rose. Betsy stepped in front of him.
“Your arm needs rest,” she said.
“I’m checking the window.”
“Then I’m coming.”
They stood together at the dark glass until the headlights disappeared. Betsy’s reflection held Apollo. Felix’s stood beside them, immense and bandaged.
The view of the yard was quiet. Still, someone had cut the fence, and neither could pretend it was an accident.
Felix locked the door. “Tomorrow I’ll go into town. I need wire and a stronger latch.”
“We’ll go with you.”
“I can manage a trip to the store.”
“I know you can. I need things for Apollo, and I’d rather know what’s happening than wait here imagining it.”
Felix looked at the sleeping child. Taking them into town brought its own risks. Leaving them alone after finding the tracks troubled him more.
“We’ll go early,” he said.
That night, Felix slept in a chair downstairs. Betsy came down once with a glass of water and found his head resting against the wall. She set the glass beside him without waking him.
May you like
In the morning, it was empty. His bandage was clean. Beside it lay a folded note in his careful handwriting: Thank you.
Betsy held it for a moment before putting it safely in her pocket.
