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"If you're trying to win an Olympic medal, lonely and horny is no way to do it."Mom cracked up laughing. "So, that OK with you?" Sheila asked me. "You watch me win a couple medals, then we can watch some other stuff, and we can paint Paris red. Sound good?" Sounds fantastic. Of course I want to be there."She beamed at me. "Love you." Love you, too."I noticed Mom looking back and forth between us. "Mom?" I asked."I was just thinking. I've never seen you like this. I never thought I would see you like this." She looked at Sheila. "I don't think words can express how thankful I am that you came into his life."Poor Sheila looked flummoxed. "I don't know what to say." You don't have to say anything," Mom said. "Look, let's all go in the living room," she said. We did, Mom and Dad in their favorite chairs, Sheila and I together on the couch."Does she know?" Mom asked me."Yes," I said, knowing what she was talking about. Sheila looked at me questioningly. I just pointed to my wrist. "Ah,". " He stopped and remembered his frightening flight up that hay-covered hill on horse-sore legs."It's much too dangerous for you to go to town, Seth," his mother insisted, turned back to her stove and stirring the jelly she was making. "Look at what happened to your poor uncle." It won't be dangerous, Momma. Jefferson's goin' to drive, and nobody knows the back roads better'n he does. Not even Robert." Yes'm, Miz Williams, Seth's right," Jefferson said quietly. "I believe him when he says he got som'im important to tell the sojers. That's why that man was chasing him." These were the first words Jefferson had uttered since entering the Williams's kitchen, and they seemed to carry more than ordinary weight. The hall clock ticked in the silence that followed."What man?" Seth's mother asked."Wainder, mother, you remember." Seth put his finger to his lips hoping Jefferson would not say more about the rebel soldier and how they had left him.Seth's mother sighed. "I'm certainly glad you got.
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