"And from what I understand, your father died trying to save my cattle in a blizzard. That was the act of a brave man, Thomas. Whatever else he was, he was brave when it counted." Thomas's eyes brightened with unshed tears. "Thank you for saying that."
"It's the truth." The boy nodded, then ran off to join his sisters, leaving Bo alone with the transplanted roses and a strange ache in his chest. He finished packing the soil, gave the bushes a good watering from the creek, and stepped back to survey his work. They looked pitiful, honestly.
Three scraggly rose bushes in bare dirt, probably half of them wouldn't survive the transplant shock. But they were alive and they would bloom, and maybe that was enough. That evening brought a summer thunderstorm, the kind that rolled across the plains like divine artillery, all flash and crash and torrential rain. Bo retreated to the sheltered overhang of the barn, watching the lightning paint the sky in shades of white and purple, counting the seconds between flash and thunder to judge the storm's distance.
A crash of thunder louder than the others made Bo flinch despite himself. In the following silence, he heard something else, a child crying. He looked toward the house and saw a lamp lit in one window, shadows moving behind the thin curtains. Bo told himself it was none of his business.
The children were scared of the storm and Kelly was handling it. He should stay here, stay out of the way, maintain the distance he'd carefully constructed. But Thomas's words echoed in his mind. She gets scared during thunderstorms but pretends she doesn't because she doesn't want us to be scared.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Bo was jogging through the rain toward the house. He knocked once, then let himself in, not waiting for an invitation because waiting seemed foolish when he was already soaked through. The scene inside stopped him in his tracks. All five children were gathered around Kelly on the floor.
The youngest, baby James, was crying in her arms while the others clung to her skirts. Kelly herself was pale, her lips moving in what looked like silent prayer, or perhaps just counting between thunderclaps. But she was singing, her voice slightly unsteady but determined, a children's song about sunshine and rainbows. She looked up when Bo entered, surprise and something else, relief, embarrassment, flashing across her face.
"Mr. Callahan, I didn't realize you were— The children are just a bit frightened of the storm." Another crash of thunder, close enough to rattle the windows. Kelly flinched involuntarily, and Bo saw her hold the children tighter. "Storms are scary," Bo said matter-of-factly, addressing the children rather than Kelly.
"Nothing wrong with being scared of something that can hurt you. That's just good sense." "Papa said brave people aren't scared of anything," Sarah, the eldest, said quietly. "Your papa was wrong about that," Bo replied, and saw Kelly's eyes widen slightly. "Bravery isn't about not being scared."
"It's about being scared and doing what needs to be done anyway. Your mother is one of the bravest people I know, and I guarantee you she's scared of storms." "Is that true, Mama?" Martha asked. "Are you scared?"
Kelly hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yes, sweet pea. I'm scared of storms. They're loud and unpredictable, and I don't like not being able to control them." "But you always tell us everything's going to be okay," Thomas said, sounding confused.
"Because it will be. Being scared doesn't change that." Kelly met Bo's eyes, and he saw gratitude there, and something else he couldn't quite name. "Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is admit you're frightened and keep going anyway." Bo found himself moving closer, drawn by something he didn't fully understand.
He settled onto the floor awkwardly, his long legs folding uncomfortably, and found himself surrounded by children. Martha immediately climbed into his lap without asking permission, her corn-husk doll clutched in one small fist. "Tell us a story, Mr. Callahan," she demanded. "A story about storms." Bo looked helplessly at Kelly, who smiled slightly, the first real smile he'd seen from her in days.