"I like her," Daniel smiled at the quiet, understatement that had always been his father. He nodded his head as he brushed the back of his hand across his eyes.
"Me too," he replied as he turned to look at his father. He had spent the past ten minutes standing on the old porch watching as Jill and his mother played with Bel and the babies. Jess was hiding in the barn with the horses again.
"Just like, son?" his father questioned.
Daniel sighed, the action causing his shoulders to slump under the heavy weight of his own mind. Truth was that he had thought of little else than his predicament over the past few days. The long drive had been the worst. Pressed against his wife, thigh to thigh, for hours as the girls laughed, played and occasionally fought had driven him practically mad with need. But that need could not override the cold hard facts; he loved a woman that if she knew the truth would hate him.
"It's complicated, Dad," was all he could manage to say in the end.
His father nodded. "Sometimes things seem more complicated than they are, Daniel." His faded grey eyes took in the woman that had been his love for close to half a century. "But let me tell you when the chips are down, son, loving is all that matters in this world."
Daniel ached to confide on his father, to seek advice from him just as he had so many times before, but he knew he could not. It was the reality of the code with which he lived, so many things in his life were 'classified.' From his father and mother, but even from his wife. No, this was a burden he would have to bare alone, because even if he wanted to cleanse his soul, tell her all that had happened that night. He knew that he could not. Security protocols of two nations and the lives of dozens of men prevented him.
He shook his head as she tickled Bel. The sound of laughter rang out across the dry, brown field. The farm lacked its usual lush greenness. "What about the farm, Dad?" he attempted to change the subject.
The older man nodded his head, "I've been thinking the same thing, son. I don't want this place to become a burden to your mother. Hell, she's been married to this land her whole life. Farmer's daughter marrying a farmer. No, I want her to take that cruise around the world we always said we would," Daniel saw the tears collecting in his father's eyes.
He wanted to argue, demand that the man re-start the chemo, fight the cancer just as he had five years ago when he won and went into remission. But the lank man with the yellowish tinge to his skin walked slowly, deliberately now, as if each step cost him precious energy, brought him more pain. He could see the very life draining from the man, who had once seemed such an immovable bear of strength. And he would not be selfish enough to add his own pleas to the burdens his father shouldered. He would do all he could to lighten them in the time they had left.
"You're thinking of selling?"
His father nodded. "Farming ain't much these days, but city folks, hell, even Hollywood types are buying up ranches and farms all over these parts. They want to escape the city and get back to nature, it seems."
Daniel nodded, "Any offers?"
"A couple. Thing is I don't want to wait and make your Mama face that choice alone," he placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "But I also don't want to sell this place out from under you, son. It's yours if you want it. It always has been. It's just that I don't think farming and the land ever really ran in your blood, boy. Not much excitement round these parts."
Daniel watched his mother as she talked quietly with Jill. The two women had bonded instantly, as his wife said, shared secrets to which he was not privy. But this was no secret. His father was right, he had never felt the connection to this land that his parents and grandparents had. He was a soldier, not a farmer.
He spoke slowly, "No, Dad. You're right. I don't have the skills to run this place anymore than those city slickers do. Tractors, milking machines, the business of farming, it's as high tech and demanding these days as my work is. And truth is that my knowledge is almost twenty years out of date."
"I'm glad you see it that way, son. I didn't want you to think we were selling off your inheritance or nothing."
"No, Dad, you and Mama are my inheritance. The only one that matters. Growing up here with the two of you as parents gave me so much more than most people ever have in this world. And that won't ever change."
His father smiled as he wrapped his arm about his shoulders, "You know your Mama and I wouldn't mind watching those girls for a couple of days if you wanted to take your wife up to the old fishing cabin by the falls for a bit. Can't imagine you two have had much time to ourselves since you got hitched."
Daniel laughed, "Hitched? Really, Daddy? Next you're going to call her the old ball and chain."
"Nope, son, not that one. She's nobodies burden anymore than your Mama ever has been. So what you say? A little honeymoon? Your Mama can make a few sandwiches in case the fish ain't biting and I'm sure we can manage to pry two horses off that oldest daughter of yours."
Daniel frowned. Time alone with Jill. A few days ago it would have seemed like a gift from heaven. But now? He had been carefully avoiding her since that night, or as much as was possible anyway. Of course, it was not easy, sharing the same room that he had grown up in. A double bed that forced their bodies to brush against one another constantly it seemed.
The nights reminded him of some of the training exercises that he had undergone, how to resist torture techniques if captured. He had used every technique they had taught. Visualization usually ended up with him reliving the night where she had slowly stripped out of his shirt in the pale moonlight. Counting took on new meaning as he would enumerate the thousands of ways he wanted to make love to his wife. And disconnecting, forget it. It was impossible to disconnect from her, not when she lay so impossibly close. His wife. His in all the ways except the one that mattered.
"I don't know, Dad. The girls are a handful. That might be too much for you, right now," he tried making excuses.
His father shook his head, "Let me put this another way. I'd like some time alone with those grandbabies. I've hardly seen Jesse and Bel over the years. I mean this place wasn't exactly that woman's idea of a vacation, was it? And those babies, except for those couple of days after Rachel's death when I came with your Mama, I've never even seen them. I want to get to know my granddaughters, son. Is that too much for a dying old man to ask?"
Daniel felt his father's word like Samuel's sidekick to his ribs. It knock the wind from him as surely as a physical blow. His father was dying. This place would be gone soon. The wounds bled and ached. He could not speak so he merely shook his head.
"Good boy. Your Mama has some stuff packed already. Let's go and tell them now," he smiled as he led his son down the porch steps to where the women and children were playing under the old tree.
***
Jill giggled as she tickled Britney's tummy. "Cheeky little monkey," she said as she kissed the head of blond curls. The child pulled away from her embrace and toddled across the brown carpet of grass towards her sisters.
