Page 110 of Prodigal Son

He claimed, other than Gracie, he could rarely see into adult minds. The fact that he could penetrate his sister’s mind at all proved incredibly impressive, since she was immortal and Dane was not.

“Her mind’s different now.”

Cain took pity on the boy who had become a man overnight. “We’re all different now.”

He never apologized, because Dane had insisted Cain intervene. They were both responsible. Chances were, Dane’s guilt ate at him as relentlessly as Cain’s ate at him. One didn’t have to be telepathic to read the regret in his eyes.

Together, their interference sentenced Cybil to an eternity of hell. Cain would have to live with that truth a lot longer than Dane.

“Be careful,” Cain warned, before leaving him to his visit.

That night, he tried to think of other things, but his mind loved to torture him. He played over his memories of Destiny and tried hard to recall her exact scent. If he shut his eyes and concentrated, he could still hear her laughter and visualize the sweet way she smiled when he told her she was beautiful.

He managed a few hours of sleep, but his mind never delved far under the surface of awake and he stirred the moment he heard Grace set the kettle to heat. The repetitive routine of his days was another cruel practice of time. Time was all he had. Endless gaping time, alone with only his thoughts and self-loathing.

It was nice hearing his mother’s voice around the house again. His father had been preoccupied since their trip and Cain sensed he had something on his mind, but chalked it up to worry about the babe. He’d likely feel relieved when the child was born and any danger to Mother or the child would be laid to rest.

A gentle knock tapped on the door. “Cain?”

The rain was heavy this morning and he hadn’t heard a carriage arrive, but that was definitely his sister Larissa. What was she doing there? She was days away from giving birth and should be resting.

“Cain, please let me in. I want to talk to you.”

Hesitantly, he got up from the bed and opened the door. “Why are you out and about in this weather?”

She sent him a sardonic look. “This weather is your department. If it bothers you, perhaps you could let the clouds pass for a while.”

“I’m not in a sunny mood.”

“Obviously. All of my shoes are ruined and my dresses have mud spatters everywhere. If you had any sympathy at all for my aching back, you’d stop creating so much extra laundry for the females.”

He glanced down at her protruding stomach. “You’re huge.”

Wedging her hand into the arch of her back, she waddled past him and sat on the bed. “This room needs fresh air.” She fluffed his pillows then grew bored with the chore. “Gracie says you aren’t eating.”

“I’m feeding. That’s enough.”

She sighed. “It might do you well to share a meal with others.”

“Who? My sister who blames me for Cybil or my brother who still hasn’t forgiven me for hurting his wife? Or perhaps my father who has barely said two words to me since returning home. Which one is it, Larissa?”

Her mouth pursed. “Well, I’m here today. You could at least eat with me.”

Again, he glanced at her stomach. “I think you’ve eaten enough.”

She threw a pillow at him. “Wretch.” Shifting her weight, she rubbed her belly. “Then do it for Mother’s sake.”

His mother had been different toward him since the day of Adam’s wedding. After that, she’d been so preoccupied with their father’s calling, she hardly spoke to anyone. The moment Clara passed, their father collected their mother and some belongings from the farm, and absconded her away to work on their marriage.

“I’m sure Mother’s fine.”

“Cain.”

“What do you want from me, Larissa?”

“You’re upsetting others. I want you to stop being so selfish!”

“Ah, well, that’s me. I’m the self-serving prodigal son who only thinks of himself. No point in changing now.”

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