The Road Home by Michael Thomas Ford Page B

quite a bit about Allen, the Green Mountain Boys, and their role in both Vermont’s own struggle for independence from New York and in the larger War of Independence. He was much less familiar with the role the Vermont militia played in the Civil War, and he found this fascinating.
    He was so engrossed in the book that when the door opened an hour later, he didn’t look up as he said, “This is really good stuff, Lucy.”
    â€œThanks,” said a male voice. “I did my best.”
    Burke looked up. Mars Janks was standing in the doorway to the room. Beside him was the younger version of himself, whom Burke had seen through the window earlier in the day. Burke looked from one to the other. The resemblance was unnerving.
    â€œHi, Burke,” Mars said, stepping forward and holding out his hand for Burke to take.
    Burke was momentarily unsettled by the formality of his old friend’s greeting but accepted Mars’s hand and grasped it warmly. “It’s been a while,” he said.
    Mars nodded. “Too long,” he agreed. He turned and motioned his son into the room. “This is my boy, Will,” he said.
    Like his father had, Will extended his hand. “Good to meet you,” he said in Mars’s voice.
    â€œLucy tells me your dad is making you into a vet,” Burke remarked.
    â€œI’m trying to,” said Mars. “He’s got a way with the animals, that’s for sure. Old Jack will do anything for him.”
    â€œI just know how to talk to him, is all,” Will said, his cheeks reddening. “It’s no big deal.”
    â€œGetting that horse to do anything is a big deal,” said Mars. “I swear he’s three-quarters mule.” He pointed at Burke’s leg. “Heard you had yourself an accident,” he said.
    â€œNo, I just wanted to spend a couple of months in the country,” Burke joked.
    Mars laughed. “Be glad you’re not a horse,” he said. “We’d have to put you down.”
    Burke laughed at the poor attempt at a joke. He was trying not to stare at Will. Mars had matured into a handsome man, but looking at Will took Burke right back to high school. Where Mars had grown into himself, Will was still finding his way. His awkwardness reminded Burke of his own at that age. It also reminded him of that night in Mars’s car. He looked away.
    â€œSo, is Old Jack going to be all right?” he asked a little too loudly.
    â€œHe’ll be fine,” said Mars. “You know how it is. The older you get, the more you have to watch what you eat.”
    Burke didn’t bother to laugh this time. He looked at Will and caught him grimacing at his father’s poor attempt at humor. Will in turn saw Burke watching him and gave a lopsided smile, one side of his mouth rising up as he shook his head. Burke felt something in his belly jump at the sight.
    â€œWell, we should be going,” said Mars, oblivious to the joke being shared at his expense. “We’ve got to check on Sam Barton’s ewe. Poor girl’s got mastitis.”
    â€œSounds painful,” Burke said.
    â€œI’ll come by again soon,” Mars assured Burke. “We can talk about the old days.”
    He’s talking as if we’re in our seventies, Burke thought. Like his life is all but over.
    â€œThat’s a good book.”
    Will’s comment drew Burke’s attention. “This one?” he said, holding up Jerry’s book.
    Will nodded. “It’s interesting. I mean, if you’re into Vermont history.”
    â€œWill plays around in one of those reenactment groups,” Mars explained.
    â€œIt’s the Eighteenth Vermont Regiment,” Will corrected. “And it’s not a reenactment group, although we do that sometimes. It’s mostly about preserving the history of Vermonters who fought in the Civil War.”
    â€œSounds interesting,” said Burke. He felt sorry for