He looked at the steaming water and memories of beautiful encounters with Molly flooded him. Without a word, he swiftly stepped from her room and shut the door, feeling an almost overwhelming desire to cry like a baby. Glancing up, he saw Luke watching him, a knowing look reflected in his eyes before he quickly turned and started up the ladder to the loft, his book in tow. "Goodnight Pa," he said, without attitude. Shocked by his son's goodnight wish, he replied softly, "Goodnight, son." Abby entered the room from Jenny's bedroom. "They're all tucked in. I guess I'll say goodnight, too. Thank you for preparing the bath." A few minutes later, the sound of muffled splashing had Brant gritting his teeth. He needed to escape the cabin. Stepping into the lovely night, crickets greeted him with their cacophony and owls with their hoots. The moon hung large and bright and a soft breeze ruffled his hair. Walking toward the corral, he paused and reflected on his day. Lola's visit had been surprising.
