For how else could he describe his feelings for his brothers, if not love?
But surely that was different?
The crowd gathering around was milling and making quite a lot of noise, for men did not usually use this word.
But they’d all known so much gossip as of late that they no longer seemed to care what people thought.
It was damned refreshing.
He stared at his brother, who seemed to be standing on a precipice, waiting.
And in that moment, Will realized he’d never told Ben.
“I love you, too,” Will admitted at last, his jaw nearly sticking. But it felt damned good to say it. For he did. He had carried his baby brother. He had picked him up when he’d fallen, sobbing as only small children could. He had soothed his hurts and held his hand in the dark whilst they laid alone, all motherly love gone.
“Glad to hear it,” Ben drawled. The admission was not enough, it seemed. “Glad you even know how to use the word aloud.”
Ben leveled him with a hard stare. “You should try using it with someone else.”
Will dropped his guard and pulled Ben over to Kit. His gut twisted as he tried to admit his feeling, his fear. The words died in his throat. He couldn’t say it. He just couldn’t. And so, he said, “I had a come-to-reckoning moment in a field with a star.”
Ben coughed. “I beg your pardon? I did not see you at the gin, but—”
“Beatrice is my lodestar,” Will cut in. “Truly. There is no way around that, but the problem is I have made her furious, and rightly so. I have no idea how to allow myself back into her good graces. She may never allow me to, because I have made the worst of all possible errors.”
Will could not stand still. He had too much energy. Too much emotion trapped within.
So, Ben nodded for them to begin again.
Again, they circled, eyeing each other.
But this time, his true feelings beginning to break to the surface, Will spun in and drove his fist into Ben’s kidney.
Ben let out a yelp.
“I’m not defeated yet, puppy,” Will said as emotion of a different kind began to take hold of him.
“Never thought you were, brother; otherwise, I wouldn’t be here,” Ben wheezed. “I have not yet given up hope. Hope springs eternal, after all. What have you done, then, that is so heinous?”
Ben and Will put down their fists, and the crowd let up a groan of disapproval, no doubt hoping for a clear win.
He and Ben ignored them.
From outside the ring, Kit threw him a linen towel. “What did you do that was so unforgivable?”
“I blamed Margaret’s emotions for the whole situation.”
Kit cringed. “She is not to blame, Will. She’s a victim in this.”
Will hung his head. “You’ve better sense than I, but I saw your suffering—”
“You can’t protect me from being hurt, Will. It’s life, for God’s sake.” Kit threw him his shirt.
He stared at his brother, trying to make sense of Kit’s simple acceptance of his wounds. How was it that both of his younger brothers seemed to understand the world so much better than he?
And how had he made such vast mistakes? Mistakes from which he might never recover.
Ben reached forward and grabbed his shoulder. “Mama left us all, but she made a bold choice. It didn’t end well, it’s true, but you don’t have to have the same fate that she did. You don’t have to be unhappy. And you don’t have to be alone.”