Clara shifted, and her voice came out soft, almost afraid to disturb the moment. “Papa… are you bringing candy?”
Nathan’s mouth moved into something that looked like a smile from a distance. “If the store’s got any.”
He leaned down and kissed Clara on the top of her head. Kissed Sam on the cheek.
He did not kiss Evelyn.
Evelyn felt the absence like a draft through a cracked wall. You notice missing small things long before the big things disappear.
Nathan climbed onto the wagon seat. He took the plow horse, the only horse they had. He took most of their savings from the tin box, leaving Evelyn eleven dollars in coins and a promise shaped like a sentence he’d probably practiced in his head.
“I’ll be back before the snow comes,” he repeated, eyes fixed on the horizon, not on her.
Evelyn watched the wagon roll down the dirt road that led out of the valley. Clara watched too. Sam watched without knowing what he was watching. The wheels left tracks in soft earth like a signature that could be erased by the first hard storm.
