Jake grabbed his hat and was ready to jump in the Ford and head to town when Alf mentioned the livestock. Maybe somebody ought to milk those poor bawling cows and fork them a little feed first? Alf would have done it himself, but he was too disgusted. He left Jake to look after himself. If he made it into the hospital, that was fine. If he never got there at all, that poor girl might be better off.

By the time Jake was through with the chores, he was sober enough to know that something real bad had happened.

Jake brought a bouquet of wildflowers he had picked alongside the road. Emaline dropped them on the bedside table without looking. She lay with her back turned to the window. Late spring sunlight came pouring through, dappling the sheets. The window was open, there was just enough breeze to stir the curtains. He found a chair against the wall, pulled it over next to the bed, touched her shoulder. She pulled away from his touch like a woman avoiding electric shock.

He cleared his throat. “I’m right sorry, Em.”

She said nothing.

“Maybe you didn’t hear. I said I’m sorry.”

She turned on him, her dark eyes burning.

“Sorry isn’t going to do it this time, Jake. This isn’t our wedding day, when you got lost. It’s not the time you were running the harrow too fast and flipped it over on me and broke my leg. It’s not the way you flirted with the nurses the last time I was in the hospital. I saw you with Kitty, Jake. Snorting like animals in the hay. I saw you!”

“I don’t know what the hell you think you saw.”

“Don’t, Jake. Don’t try to kid me. I know exactly what I saw. I climbed the ladder in the barn right up to the haymow. There was a full moon and the hay door was open. It was plain as day. How long has this been going on? You’ve been riding out with her for more than a year now. Where do you go? That old cabin down by the creek? I know there’s a little bed there, made up nice. I was wondering who used it. Now I know. It’s you and Kitty. She’s your little whore, isn’t she?”

“Aint no call to talk like that, Emaline. I don’t know what come over me last night. Too much to drink, I suppose. That’s the only time anything went on. I done said I was sorry. I don’t know how many times I’ve got to say it.”

“Until I get tired of hearing it.”

“It still don’t make sense, what you did. Runnin into the road like a damned fool.”