âActually, I canât marry you.â
âNonsense. Of course you can. Iâve thought about it, too, you know. Granted, we donât have some fairy-tale romance, but a woman your age doesnât expect that. We have more important reasons to get married. Stability. Companionship. Thereâs no good reason for either of us to stay single.â
âThereâs him.â Francis pointed at Flint. The air inside the barn had cooled until it had an icy edge to it, and someone had dimmed the lights for slow dancing. A song of love betrayed was filling the barn with a quiet sadness, and more than one couple moved closer together.
âHim?â Sam looked at Flint like he suspectedhim of being part of a police lineup. âWhatâs the FBI got to do with anything?â
âItâs not the FBI. Itâs him. Heâs my husband,â Francis whispered.
âYouâre joking.â Sam looked at Flint again and then dismissed him. âYou donât even know him.â
âI used to know him. We were married twenty years ago.â
âOh, well, then,â The man visibly relaxed. âHeâs your ex-husband.â
Flint didnât like the direction the conversation was taking. âIf Francis doesnât want to marry you, she shouldnât. And thereâs no reason she should ever settle for companionship.â
âIf youâre her ex, you have no say in this at all.â Sam looked Flint over like he had been pulled out of that police lineup and pronounced guilty. âBesides, Iâm sure sheâs realized by now that Iâm the kind of husband that she should have. Solid. Steady. A man like you is okay for a woman when sheâs youngâ What we donât do when weâre young.â The man gave a bark of a laugh. âWhy, I was in a protest march myself onceâ But that was then and surely by now Francis knows your kind doesnât hold up too well over the years.â
âMy kind? What do you know about my kind?â Flint forced the words out over his clenched teeth.
âI know you left her,â Sam said calmly. The brown-suited man looked smug and confident. Heglanced at Francis indulgently. âI know Francis and sheâd stick by her word. So I know itâs you who left.â
âShe was young. And scared. And meâ I must have seemed like some wild guy back then. I canât blame her for having second thoughts.â Flint gave a ragged laugh. âI would have left me if Iâd had a choice. I was mad at the world for letting my parents die. Mad at school. Mad at friends. Mad at God. The only good thing about me was Francis. I canât blame her for leaving me.â
âBut I didnât,â Francis said softly. âI didnât leave.â
Flint snorted. âThatâs not what the sheriff said.â
âI wasnât the one who had you arrested.â Francis said the words carefully. She felt like she was walking some very important, invisible line. She tried to take a deep breath, but failed. âIt was my father.â
âBut the sheriff saidââ
âMy father may have lied to him.â Francis was almost whispering. They seemed to burn their way up through her throat. âI waited for you to come back that day.â
Flint heard the words and stared at Francis. He shook his head like he was clearing his ears. What was she saying?
âButââ Flint took one more stab at understanding. He could see in her eyes that she was tellinghim the truth. âBut there were papersâdivorce papersââ
âHad I signed them?â
Flint shook his head slowly. âI thought youâd sign them when they were given to you.â
Flint still remembered the pain of seeing those papers. At first, heâd refused to sign them, pushing them away when the sheriff brought them to his cell. But on the third day, heâd decided to give in.