You have no right – The Regrets of Cyrus Dodd

June 3, 2016 #fridayfiction 0

The Regrets of Cyrus Dodd

The Regrets of Cyrus Dodd

Series: Wyattsville Series, Book 4
Genre: Literary Fiction
ISBN: 9780996921442
“I have heard it said that a man who cries is spineless, a weakling not worthy of his salt, but this I can tell you, a man who has never shed a tear has not yet learned to love..."


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Revenge, death, deception… These are the things Cyrus Dodd has to overcome if he is to give Ruth the life he’s promised her. The problem is he’s got a prideful nature and when a seemingly innocuous argument leads to a bitter feud with his neighbor, his life changes forever. The plans he has falls by the wayside and before he finds a way to fix it, he comes to understand the meaning of regret.
In this early twentieth century family saga, two men come up against each other—both are iron-willed and stubborn. One will lose his farm; the other will lose his family. In a tale of betrayal, murder and revenge two West Virginia farmers will discover that being right does not necessarily mean being happy.
Believing he has lost everything Cyrus Dodd is forced to start over. He promises Ruth that this time it will be better, but the truth is he doesn’t know if it’s a promise he can keep.

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You have no right – The Regrets of Cyrus Dodd

Cyrus was walking back from the creek when he saw Ruth climb down from the wagon. By the time he reached the house Bethany and the boys were gone. “Where were you?” he asked.

“I went to see Bethany Jackson.”

“Bethany Jackson!” he repeated angrily. “Why?”

“I hoped she could talk Virgil into—”

“Dammit Ruth! You have no right—”

“I have every right,” she replied wearily. “You can’t make a living on a farm with no water.” She sat on the porch step, dropped her face into her hands and cried. “What kind of a life will it be…”

Cyrus sat next to her, bent forward with his hands hanging down between his boney knees. “You’ve gotta trust me,” he said. “I promised I’d provide for you and the baby and I will. I swear I will.”

She looked up, tears running down both cheeks, and gave a nod.

Cyrus gathered her into his arms. “Please Ruth,” he begged. “Just be patient for a while. I’ll work this out. I’ll find a way. I promise.”

Again she nodded, but said nothing.

For the rest of the afternoon, she sat on the front porch creaking back and forth in the rocker, singing a lullaby as she cradled her stomach in her arms. The baby, a boy she thought, had kicked at her ribs all afternoon, but now he’d become surprisingly still.

Perhaps like her, he’d simply grown weary.

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