Page 4 of Unforgiven

Maybe he wouldn’t wait very long at all.

3

“I think that’s the last of it, Tab,” Mary said as her eldest son, Jack, deposited a ten-pound bag of flour on Tabitha’s freshly mopped kitchen floor. It landed with a thud and a small cloud of white dust. Seconds later, her cabinets glowed with a powdery sheen.

Tabitha pretended not to notice. She didn’t care about having to dust again anyway. Her sister and nephews’ visit was always the highlight of her month. Mary’s husband, Roy, only allowed his wife and children to see Tabitha every couple of weeks.

“Danke, Mary. And thank you, Jack, Anson, John, and Petey,” she added with a sunny smile. “You strong boys made my day much easier. And brighter.”

Little Petey wrapped his arms around her legs. “I miss you, Aunt Tab.”

Kneeling, she gave the five-year-old a proper hug. Mary’s youngest smelled like soap and dirt and dog, as always. Despite his mother’s best efforts to keep him clean, Petey couldn’t help himself from getting dirty. Mud and mess seemed to call hourly.

It was exhausting for her sister, but Tabitha secretly hoped Petey wouldn’t change anytime soon. She enjoyed knowing that there were still little boys who hugged dogs, played in the dirt, and forgot to do chores. The rest of one’s life was so hard. As far as she was concerned, children needed to savor those carefree years as much as they could.

“I miss you too.”

Anson and John moved closer.

“May I have a hug from you two as well, boys?”

“Sure, Aunt Tabby,” John said.

As she hugged each of them, her eyes stung. Mary and Roy’s four boys had her heart. “You two are getting so big. There was a time when neither of you could’ve carried in the groceries that you did today.”

“I’m almost as big as Jack,” Anson declared.

His twelve-year-old brother scoffed. “Not hardly.”

Just as Anson puffed up his chest, Mary rested a hand on his shoulder. “We are not going to start one-upping each other in your aunt’s haus.”

“All right,” Anson said, though it was evident he would much rather press his point.

Tabitha glanced at John. As usual, the quietest of her boys simply stared at her—and at the groceries and dry goods in the four tote bags resting next to the giant bag of flour on the kitchen floor. “Do you need any more help, Aunt Tab?”

“Nee.” If there was something she had in spades, it was time to clean and organize.

John looked skeptical. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure.” Knowing that saying goodbye would be harder the longer she drew it out, she handed each boy a paper sack filled with fresh pumpkin bars and oatmeal cookies. “Here you go. Something to eat on the way home.”

“Thank you, Aunt Tabby,” they chorused.

While the boys were putting their shoes on, Tabitha handed Mary an envelope of cash to pay for the groceries Mary bought. Mary also took a dozen baskets at a time. She and her husband took them to a broker, who in turn sold them in big cities like St. Louis and Louisville. The baskets brought a pretty price and enabled Tabitha to pay for her food and crafting materials. Mary had also agreed to keep a portion.

Mary took the envelope but didn’t immediately put it in her dress pocket. Looking guilty, she whispered, “Are you sure you don’t need this more?”

“I am sure.” Mary and Roy had four little boys to feed and clothe, after all. All she had was herself.

“Aunt Tab?”

“Yes, Jack?”

“Are you ever going to come over to our haus?”

“I don’t know.” Apparently, Mary and Roy didn’t tell the boys that the limits on their interaction came from them and not her.

Roy was a good man, but he was also a self-righteous one. She’d always gotten the impression that he thought she should’ve tried harder to make Leon happy. Roy also had never hidden his disapproval of Tabitha’s divorce.

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