Page 130 of The Formation of Us

Everything receded in a black haze, and Duke’s body grew heavy.

“Put him down,” Radford said.

His brothers lowered him to the snowy ground, then knelt on either side of him.

“It’ll torture him if we lift under his arms,” Boyd said. Duke wanted to agree, but his tongue felt too thick to move.

“We won’t need to. Remember those chair races we used to have when we were boys?” Duke couldn’t answer Radford, because his head was reeling. “We’re going to give you a ride and see how fast we can get you to the house.”

He felt Kyle and Radford reach beneath his legs to lock their hands on each other’s arms and form a sling chair. Boyd moved behind him, locking his hands on Radford’s and Kyle’s forearms to provide a back support, which Duke needed because everything was moving in a nauseating, dizzying swirl that made it impossible to sit up.

Radford, being the eldest and the one who always gave the count when the four of them combined their strength to do the impossible, gave the nod to move.

Duke’s last conscious moment was feeling his brothers lift him in their arms.

Chapter 39

Stabbing pain jolted Duke from the black nothingness he’d been drifting in. He groaned and squirmed away from whatever was digging in his shoulder.

“It’s almost over,” his mother said.

He felt her fingers smoothing his hair back, then a cool cloth wiping his forehead. He forced his eyes open and saw Doc Milton and Aster bending over him, working on his shoulder, and his brothers standing near the bed. His mother was seated beside him.

“Is Cora all right?” he asked, but the black swamp sucked him under before he heard his mother answer. It seemed like a second later that another sharp pain jerked him back the surface, but it was Aster, bandaging his shoulder.

Faith was at his side wiping his face with a cold cloth. She tried to smile, but her lips quivered and tears slipped down her cheeks.

“It’s bad?” he asked, his voice gravelly and slow, his mind so groggy he fought to keep his eyes open.

“Doc got the bullet out, but you’ve lost so much blood.” Her jaw trembled. “Oh, darling . . .”

He understood the fear in her eyes. He himself had seen strong, healthy men die from festering gunshot wounds.

Faith’s cool hands felt good on his face, but he was slipping away.

“I love you, Duke,” she said.

Her tremulous voice lifted his heart, but the heavy black swamp swallowed him again.

When he woke, Faith was gone.

His brothers stood around the bed, and his mother sat beside him, holding his hand. “It would please me immensely, Duke Halford, if you would stay with us a while longer this time. A mother can only take so much worrying, you know?” She looked drawn and ashen, sitting there with fear etching grooves between her eyes.

“You shouldn’t worry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It makes you look old.”

She laughed and sobbed at the same time. “You always were too honest.”

“Promised Dad I’d always tell the truth.”

She felt his forehead like she’d done hundreds of times before, but he’d never seen fear in her eyes. Worry, yes. Fear, no. His injury was bad, and the strain on his mother’s face confirmed it.

“How long have I been out?”

“About four hours.”

He turned his fingers up and grasped her hand. “I’m sorry Radford and I upset you with our argument.”

“That is nothing for you to worry about now.” She smoothed her palm over his knuckles. “You’ve been so little trouble, always my helper, then my keeper, then the town protector. You’re a good man, Duke, and a good son. You deserve a long, happy life. Your wife and children need you. I need you.” Her voice broke and her chin trembled. “And your brothers . . . it’s always been the four of you.” She kissed his cheek. “They need you too,” she whispered, then hurried from the room.