Bethel was pleasant through the meal, passing food around the table, asking Rusty if he needed anything else. Mrs. Brackett took her place at one end, but Rusty soon realized she had not once looked toward her husband. She had probably been a handsome woman in a younger, happier time, but her face had frozen into a bitter, pinched expression. She kept her attention focused on her plate and the food immediately in front of her.

He caught Brackett glancing at his wife, pain in his eyes.

Bethel made polite small talk, seemingly oblivious of the wall of silence that stood between her parents. But the forced quality in her voice told Rusty she was achingly aware of it.

The war had cost this family dearly, but it had cost others just as much. He pondered the wide contrast—and the parallels—between the Bracketts and the Monahans.

Mrs. Brackett arose from the table before the others had finished. She picked up her plate and utensils and disappeared into the kitchen. Brackett stared after her, saying nothing.

Uncomfortable, Rusty pushed back his chair. “I’m much obliged for the good dinner, but I’d best be headed home.” He started to pick up his plate, but Bethel signaled him to leave it.

She said, “I’ll take care of it, Mr. Shannon. You needn’t bother.”

He sensed that she was sparing him another meeting with her mother. Or perhaps it was her mother she was sparing.

Brackett said, “Come back any time, Shannon. You’re welcome here so long as you don’t bring up politics.”

Bethel followed Rusty out onto the porch. In a quiet voice she said, “I hope you’ll pardon my mother’s behavior. She hasn’t been the same since my brothers died. She blames Papa for that.” She looked intently into his face.

“It’s odd, but you look a little like them, especially John, the oldest. I think my mother saw that.”

He twisted his hat in his hands. “I’m sorry about your brothers.”

“We still have Farley.” She looked away as if mention of the name brought sorrow. “He follows after calls that the rest of us can’t hear.”

Riding away, he felt sympathy for the Brackett family . . . Mrs. Brackett, driven inward, still unable to reconcile herself to the loss of two sons. Bethel, trying to bring even false cheer into a house that had no cheer at all. And Jeremiah Brackett. . . Rusty felt that he could bring himself to like the man, even granted that he had some unreasoning attitudes.