"Good. At least you're honest."

Then Cyrus reached into his shirt pocket.

He pulled out a small blue velvet box.

Meadow stared.

"What is that?"

"Something I've been carrying all evening."

He opened it.

Inside was a tiny diamond ring.

"Odetta's mother gave this to her."

Meadow's eyes filled with tears.

"I want you to have it."

"Grandpa..."

"You don't have to wear it."

She took the box.

"I will."

Cyrus smiled.

"Your grandmother would have liked that."

Meadow hugged him.

For a moment, Cyrus closed his eyes.

He wished Odetta could see this.

Trent's Choice

Later that night, Trent found Cyrus outside.

The motorcycles were still parked along the street.

Trent stood several feet away.

"Mr. Delaney?"

Cyrus looked over.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"You already did."

"I know."

Trent swallowed.

"But I need to say it again."

Cyrus waited.

"I judged you by your clothes."

He looked at the vest.

"I thought the vest made you look cheap."

Cyrus smiled.

"It is cheap."

Trent looked surprised.

Cyrus continued.

"The leather cost almost nothing when I bought it."

"Then why does it matter so much?"

Cyrus touched the bison patch.

"Because of what happened while I was wearing it."

Trent nodded.

"I understand."

"No."

Cyrus looked at him.

"You don't."

Trent lowered his head.

"But you can."

He pointed toward the motorcycles.

"That's what those men are."

"Your club?"

"Our family."

Trent looked at the line of bikes.

"Do they really all know you?"

Cyrus smiled.

"Most don't."

"Then why did they come?"

"Because they know what the patch means."

Trent was silent.

Cyrus leaned on his cane.

"Someday you'll be seventy-six."

Trent smiled weakly.

"I hope so."

"Maybe you'll wear something people laugh at."

Trent looked at him.

"And when they do?"

Cyrus smiled.

"Remember tonight."

Thursday Morning

The story did not end that night.

By Monday morning, someone had posted a video of the confrontation online.

By Tuesday, it had spread across South Dakota.

By Wednesday, state officials were asking questions.

The Copper Lantern's liquor license came under review.

Not because Cyrus had demanded it.

He hadn't.

In fact, Cyrus had repeatedly told reporters that he didn't want the bar destroyed.

But investigators discovered that the Copper Lantern had ignored several licensing requirements.

The confrontation had simply brought attention to problems that already existed.

On Thursday morning, the state suspended the bar's liquor license.

Bram Sutcliffe sat in his office staring at the letter.

His entire investment was collapsing.

Cyrus came to see him.

Bram looked up.

"I lost everything."

Cyrus sat across from him.

"No."

Bram frowned.

"You don't understand."

"I understand more than you think."

"What am I supposed to do?"

Cyrus looked toward the window.

"Fix it."

"How?"

"Start with the truth."

Bram stared at him.

"You're not angry?"

Cyrus shook his head.

"Being angry doesn't rebuild anything."

He stood.

"You made mistakes."

"So did I."