Free Threads by Patsy Brookshire

me. I was afraid he'd say something to Willie, but when Willie came back he
was all smiles as usual. That was on Sunday.
    Wednesday morning David stopped for his coffee. He asked how the quilt was coming
along. I knew it was an excuse to get into my bedroom. I hadn't worked much on the quilt for the
last three weeks. I pulled him behind the curtain where he took me gently in his arms. "Soph?"
he said.
    "Yes, please." His touch on my back was a welcome fire.
    We lay down on the bed, close together. He was leaning over me, kissing me, with his
hand stroking my belly when the curtain flew back. There was Willie, a look of murder on his
face. I think if he'd actually caught us making love he'd'a killed us both.
    "So, Zack was right!" he yelled. Before we could move he'd pulled David off the bed
and flung him on the floor like a feather. He stood for a second staring at me.
    I was so scared.
    "You're no better'n a whore."
    David wasn't a fighter. That wasn't his way, but at that moment he'd have killed Willie
or died trying, before he let me be harmed. He jumped up, both his hands flexing, balling into
fists and flattening out in front of him at Willie.
    "Get out of here!" The words snapped from him to Willie with the force of a whip. His
cold anger shocked Willie.
    It stopped him long enough for me to roll off the bed and at least die standing up. I
thought of rolling under the bed, but as much as I longed for a rock to crawl under, I feared
David was in danger of being beaten to death by my strong ox of a little brother. I dodged past
them and ran into Willie's room where I got his deer rifle, which he always kept loaded.
    When I got back David was on the floor , blood streaming from his nose. Willie raised
his boot and I knew for certain he'd stomp him to death.
    I pointed the gun straight at Willie. "You touch him again and I'll shoot you right
now."
    Willie stopped his boot in midair. I meant it, and he knew it.
    David knew it, too. He staggered up.
    "For God's sake, Sophie!" David almost fell into me. "Don't! Don't shoot!" His voice
was rough, raw, almost like crying. I knew he was afraid I'd do it before he could stop me.
    All the fight went out of Willie. His face twisted as he pulled in his anger. He turned
away from us, ripped roughly at the bedroom curtain and pushed through to stumble to the
kitchen table. He jerked a chair out and almost fell into it.
    He was crying. "I don't understand, I don't understand."
    David reached outward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Willie, Sophie and I love each
other."
    Willie's shoulder jerked to throw off David's hand. "Love!" He spat out. He made it
sound like a dirty word. "A married man loves his wife."
    He turned, glaring, to me. "And to think I stood up for you when Zack had it figgered
out all along. If he only knew."
    Willie and I had always been close, it shattered me to hear him talk like that. The
mention of Zack was like sea water on a fresh wound. I didn't care what Zack thought of me, but
I knew I could never go home again if Willie told Mom and Dad, or anybody in the family.
There'd be no way to ever explain David and me. None of the sisters would have ever trusted me
with their husbands again, though they needn't have worried. In the Elms, no one played around
with married people.
    As for the baby, I'd already cooked up a story about a quick romance with a fisherman
after Willie left. After a mythical wedding, and the baby had come, my husband would
conveniently drown in a storm on a fishing boat. It was a wild idea, and now I realize, very thin,
but it was the only chance I had of saving any face at all. The baby would have to be explained,
sooner or later, but I didn't intend for it to be this way.
    "Willie, you must never tell Zack. You must never tell anybody. They'd never
understand. They'd hate me. You know it."
    I must have got to him with the wildness of my appeal. He glared at me for a long time.
"Okay, Sophie. But it's the last favor I ever do for you."