“And if they're not?”
“Then they need to learn that too, and from me.”
“Then our plans are laid, such as they are,” said Alvin.
“All except how to get out of Hatrack River alive, with all these thugs and ruffians about,” said Verily Cooper.
“Oh, me and Armor already got that figured out,” said Mike Fink. with a grin. “And we pretty much won't have to beat nobody to a pulp to do it, neither, if we're lucky.”
There was such glee in Mike Fink's face when he said it, though, that more than one of the others wondered whether Mike really thought it would be good luck not to have to pulverize somebody. Nor were a few of them altogether sure that they didn't wish to do a little pulp-beating themselves, if push came to shove.
Fink and Armor-of-God were about to head downstairs with Horace then, to freshen up from their journey before he put them to bed in his attic, a good clean space but one he never rented out, just in case of late-night sudden visitors like these, when Measure called out, “Mike Fink.”
Fink turned around.
“There's a story I got to tell you before I go to sleep tonight,” he said.
Fink looked puzzled for a moment.
“Measure's under the curse,” said Armor-of-God. “He's got to tell you or he'll go to bed with bloody hands.”
“I came this close to being under the curse myself,” said Fink. “But you? How did you get under it?”
“He took it on himself,” said Miss Larner. “But that doesn't mean the same rules don't apply.”
“But I already know the story.”
“That'll make the telling of it easier,” said Measure. “But I got to do it.”
“I'll come back up when I've peed and et,” said Fink. “Begging your pardon, ma'am.”
There they were, then, looking at each other, Alvin and Peggy– but once again with Verily Cooper, Arthur Stuart, and Measure looking on.
“Don't the two of you get tired of playing out your scenes in front of an audience?”
“There's no scene to play,” said Miss Larner.
“Too bad,” said Alvin. “I thought this was the part of the play where I says to you, 'I'm sorry,' and you says to me–”
“I say to you, There is nothing to be sorry for.”
“And I say to you, Is so. And you say, Is not. Is so, Is not, Is so, back and forth till we bust out laughing.”
At which she burst out laughing.
“I was right, you didn't need to testify,” Alvin said.
Her face went stern at once.
“Hear me out, for Pete's sake, cause you were right too, if it came right down to it, it wasn't my place to tell you whether or not you could testify. It's not my decision whether you get to make this sacrifice or that one, or whether it's worth it. You decide your own sacrifices, and I decide mine. Instead of me bossing you about it, I should have just asked you to hold off and see if I could manage without. And you would have said yes. Wouldn't you.”
She looked him in the eye. “Probably not,” she said. “But I should have.”
“So maybe we ain't so bullheaded after all.”
“The day after– no, two days later– that's when we're not so bullheaded.”
“That'll do, if we just stay friends till we soften up a little.”
“You're not ready for married life, Alvin,” said Miss Larner. “You still have many leagues to travel, and until you're ready to build the Crystal City, you have no need of me. I'm not going to sit home and pine for you, and I'm not going to try to tag along with you when the companions you need are men like these. Speak to me when your journey's done. See if we still need each other then.”
“So you admit we need each other now.”
“I'm not debating with you now, Alvin. I concede no points to you, and petty contradictions will not be explained or reconciled.”
“These men are my witnesses, Margaret. I will love you forever. The family we make together, that will be our best Making, better than the plow, better than the Crystal City.”
She shook her head. “Be honest with yourself, Alvin. The Crystal City will stand forever, if you build it right. But our family will be gone in a few lifetimes.”
“So you admit we'll have a family.”
She grinned. “You should run for office, Alvin. You'd lose, but the debates would be entertaining.” She was turning toward the door when it opened without a knock. It was Po Doggly, his eyes wide. He scanned the room till he saw Alvin. “What are you doing sitting there like that, and not a gun in the room!”
“I wasn't robbing any of them, and they wasn't robbing me,” said Alvin. “We didn't think to bring guns along.”
“There was a break-in at the jail. A man claiming to be Amy Sump's father riled up the crowd and about thirty men broke into the courthouse and overpowered Billy Hunter and took away his keys. They hauled every damn prisoner out of there and started beating on them till they told which one of them was you. I got there before they killed anybody and I run them off all right, but they can't get far from town in one night and I don't know but what somebody's going to tell them where you are so I want you to sleep with guns tonight.”
“Don't worry about it,” said Miss Larner. “They won't come here tonight.”
Po looked at her, then at Alvin. “You sure?”
“Don't even post a guard, Po,” said Miss Larner. “It will only draw attention to the roadhouse. The men hired to kill Alvin are all cowards, really, so they had to get drunk in order to make the attempt. They'll sleep it off tonight.”
“And go away after that?”
“Make sure the trial is well guarded, and after that if Alvin is acquitted he'll leave Hatrack and your nightmares will be over.”
“They broke into my jail,” said Doggly. “I don't know who your enemies are, boy, but if I was you I'd get rid of that golden plow.”
“It ain't the plow,” said Alvin. “Though some of them probably thinks it is. But plow or no plow, the ones as want me dead would be sending boys like those after me.”
“And you, really don't want my protection?” asked Doggly.
Both Alvin and Miss Larner agreed that they did not.
When Po made his good-byes and was ready to leave, Miss Larner slipped her arm through his. “Take me downstairs, please, and on to the room I'm sharing with my new friend Ramona.” She gave not so much as a backward glance at Alvin.
Measure hooted once after the door was closed. “Alvin, is she testing you? Just to make sure that you'll never turn wifebeater, no matter what the provocation?”
“I got a feeling I ain't seen provocation yet.” But Alvin was smiling when he said it, and the others got the idea he didn't mind the idea of sparring with Miss Larner now and then– sparring with words, that is, words and looks and winks and nasty grins.
After the candles were doused and the room was dark and still, with all of them in bed and wishing to sleep, Alvin murmured: “I wonder what they meant to do to me.”
Nobody asked who he meant; Measure didn't have to. “They meant to kill you, Alvin. Does it matter what method they used? Hanging. Burning alive. A dozen musket balls. Do you really care which way you die?”
“I'd like to have a corpse decent-looking enough that the coffin can be open and my children can bear to look at me and say good-bye to me.”
“You're dreaming then,” said Measure. “Cause even right now I don't know how no wife and children could bear to look at you, though I daresay they'll say good-bye readily enough.”
“I expect they were going to hang me,” said Alvin. “If you ever see folks about to hang me, don't waste your time or risk your life trying to save me. Just come along after they've given up on me so you can get me on home.”
“So you got no fear of the rope,” said Measure.
“Nor fear of drowning or suffocation,” said Alvin. “Nor falling. I can fix up breaks and make the rocks soft under me. But fire, now. Fire and beheading and too many bullets, those can take me right off. I could use some help if you see them going at me like that.”