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That’s it! It’d never be over and done. It’d be a guilt we’d carry forever, can’t you see?”
    â€œI can see it could be that if we let it be. But it could be a blessing in many ways.”
    â€œJonathan, you’re being a self-righteous hypocrite, and you’ve never been before. I can’t believe what you’re saying.” And Aaron shook his head, as if doing so would negate all that Jonathan had said. He covered his face with his hands and listened to his brother.
    â€œI’d just ask you both to think about it, and consider if…” But his words faltered at last.
    With his face still in his hands Aaron said, “Jonathan, you realize that you’re sitting in my house and what I’m considering right now is asking you to get out of it?” Then he rubbed his hands downward, as if to wipe away his weariness and clear his eyes. When he did, he saw Mary with her eyes on her lap, hands idle, and the look on her face made him instantly sorry for what he’d threatened.
    â€œAw, hell, I didn’t mean it. For better or for worse, we’re here sharing the place, and I’m not throwing you out, neither of you. Pa sure picked a hell of a way to split up this property, though.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Mary said then, and Aaron realized she was frightened.
    â€œMary, I didn’t mean that like it sounded. You belong here as much as Ma ever did, and you’ve got every right to be here. It’s your home whether it belongs to Jonathan or me—that part doesn’t matter. When I marry is time enough for us to change it.” Then, in an effort to dispel the overwhelming oppression around them all, he added, “Right?”
    No one answered. Just the ticking clock imposed itself on the quiet.
    â€œIt doesn’t bear thinking about, Jonathan, and it never could,” Aaron said, “whether I marry Pris or not. Suppose I do marry her? Then she’s part of this, too. There’s such a thing as faithfulness, and I feel it, whether I’m married yet or not.”
    â€œI figured when you went to the city there were other women.”
    â€œWhat I did in the city is no business of yours! Any women I knew there have nothing to do with this or with Pris.”
    â€œOh, Jonathan, don’t!” Mary cried, and there were tears on her face at last. “Don’t say any more. We are not things , not animals you can pen up together at mating time!”
    â€œI said it all wrong, I know.”
    â€œAnd you’ve said enough!” Aaron charged, pushing his chair back and rising in one angry movement. “Just don’t say another word. Not one more word.” And he slammed out the door, leaving Mary and Jonathan in its reverberations. But before the air had quite stilled he came back and stood just inside the kitchen door, looking across the room at Mary.
    â€œI’m sorry, Mary,” he said. “I had no part in this.” And she knew he’d felt it necessary to clarify that point after all he’d told her the night before. But he’d slammed back out before she could say, “I know.”
    She could not face Jonathan any longer, so she picked a jacket from the hook behind the kitchen door and went out, too, closing the door more quietly than Aaron had. But the click of the latch censored Jonathan as firmly as when Aaron had slammed the door.
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    Aaron took his anger to the barn. He stormed down the yard, flung the barn door open, and charged inside. It was clean and quiet, no workto be done. And nobody to listen to his arguments. In frustration he slammed his open palm against a wooden beam.
    One would not guess it just then, but he was a man of easy temperament, usually slow to anger. His way was the way of light response, a word of jest. He was uncomfortable with anger and tried to avoid it.
    How, then, had the last two days spawned such belligerence in him? Like mushrooms during