“Oh. Well, the house looks nice.”
“You paid for it.”
He paused. “What?”
“The money that mysteriously showed up in my bank two years ago. You think I didn’t know that was you, or how you got it?”
“Maybe it was an insurance policy Pa had for you. Maybe it finally came due, did you ever think of that?” He thought for a second, then said, “See, there was this trust fund--”
She let out a small laugh and went back to her vegetables. “I expect you want to move back in then. I expect you want me and Frank to clear out.”
“Don’t be stupid, Claire. Why would you even say that?”
She looked over her shoulder at him and wiped the side of her face with the back of her hand. “Frank wasn’t born a cripple, or simple, neither. He was strong as an ox when we married. He got hurt in the mines a few years back. It left him a little slow. He doesn’t understand things so well sometimes. If you want to run us off because you need a place to hide, that suits me fine. Just keep your mouth shut around him and I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that, so I won’t. But Frank seems nice. Does he treat you all right?”
“Nice? I know what you’re thinking, Jem. You think he’s some invalid that isn’t capable of taking care of himself, right? Some kind of weak man and not some goddamn lawman or bandit. Well I’ll tell you this, I’ll take him over someone like you any day of the week. He is good, and he is decent, and he is kind. And if you don’t like it, you can go to hell.”
Jem waited for her to finish, then he caught her off guard with a smile. “My goodness gracious. You grew up and got meaner than a hellcat. You been waiting to say that to me for years, ain’t you? I bet you had the whole thing memorized just in case I came in here, trying to tell you how it was and how it’s gonna be. Look at you, holding that kitchen knife like you might stick it straight through my heart.” He tapped his left breast and said, “Here it is. I won’t even flinch, if you want to try.”
She put the knife down on the wooden cutting board. “What do you think happened after I finally got tired of worrying that you were dead or in jail? When that money showed up, it just made me more bitter toward you.”
“I told you. There was a trust fund.”
She picked up the knife again.
“All right. I sent it to help you.”
“You sent it because you expected it might buy you forgiveness for running off all them years ago. I was a little girl and you left me to fend for myself, Jem.”
“You had Anna and Old Man Willow. Stop carrying on like you were living in the streets.”
Claire gritted her teeth and said, “I think I want you to leave.”
Jem cast his eyes down at the dirty white tiles. They were the same ones he and Claire crawled on as babies while his mother washed the dishes. “Listen, when I sent that money, I just wanted to do something nice for you, is all. I didn’t mean it any other way. I know I couldn’t…how’d you go and get married without me?” He stopped speaking and swallowed, but it was like trying to get a bag of sand down his throat. “Who walked you down the aisle?”
“Nobody did. I made it that far on my own, I figured I could handle the rest as well.”
He reached out for her, but she turned away from him and returned to chopping the food.
Before eating, Frank recited a heartfelt prayer where he thanked God for everything under the stars, “Especially the happy return of Claire’s brother, Jeb.”
“Jem,” Claire said. “He just told you that not fifteen minutes ago.”
“It’s all right,” Jem said.
Frank looked at Jem and said, “I am so sorry.”
“Just get on with it, Frank. The food’s getting cold,” Claire said.
“Ease up,” Jem said. “It’s okay.”
Claire scooped piles of peas and mashed potatoes onto both men’s plates. “How long are you staying for, Jem,” Frank said.
“Not long. I have to ride out on business at first light.”
Claire stabbed a piece of meat with her fork. “Off to another fast town to do God knows what to God knows who? What would our Daddy say to you right now, Jem? Would he be proud of how his only son turned out? Would Ma?”
“Chances are I’ll get to ask them directly before sunrise,” Jem said, instantly regretting the anger in his voice. He wiped his mouth with one of the linens and rocked back and forth on the chair while he and Claire stared at one another from across the table. “Dinner sure was tasty,” he said. “I never ate so good at this table in all my days. The old man wasn’t much of a cook. He did his best, of course, but it was pretty much leaper steaks and beans all year round.”
“Venison’s my favorite,” Frank said.
“Is that right? You any good with a rifle?”
“He can hit a leaper at twenty yards in mid-sprint,” Claire said. “He got four last year, right out in the meadow, sitting in his chair.”
“That right?” Jem said. “You ever try pheasant? No? Not much eating, but they’re good hunting. When I get back I’ll show you my dad’s old spot.” He patted Frank on the back and looked at his sister, “Be good. I’ll be back.”
All of the businesses were closed along Pioneer Way, except for the bars. They were packed with rowdy customers and working girls who called out to Jem as he passed, trying to lure him inside. Anna Willow was standing on the Sheriff’s porch, holding the railing. Her white apron was smeared with dried blood. Jem stopped his destrier in front of her and said, “Rough night, Doc?”
“Your friend, Mr. McParlan, had to sit on Elijah’s chest so I could reset his leg. He most likely will never walk right again.”
“What a tragic turn of events,” Jem said. He waited for Anna to say something, but she ignored his comment. “Hey, did you take up in Roy Halladay’s old office?”
“I did,” Anna said. “I still have his sign on the door and everything.”
“I saw him not too long ago, you know. He was talking about a man’s destiny, and what a peculiar thing it is.” He looked at the security gate that led out to the wasteland and eventually, Beothuk Country. “Right now, I’d be inclined to agree with that crazy old devil.”
“Where you heading off to this late, anyway?”
“Why, you concerned about me out there in the darkness or wishing one of them Beothuk will have a new hat made out of my scalp before dawn?”
“I was just curious where you were going,” she said. “You weren’t purposefully cryptic as a boy, Jem Clayton. Some might say you’ve picked up a flair for the dramatic.”
“Perhaps they might,” he said. “Goodnight, Miss Anna.”
“Goodnight, Jem.”
She watched him head toward the gate, and kept watching long after she lost sight of him in the darkness.
11. Wilderness
Jem rode until the lights of Seneca 6 were tiny white dots in the darkness. He let his destrier run loose over the hard, red clay of the wasteland. Her hooves echoed like a cavalry charge as they flew through the twists and turns of Coramide Canyon. Riding at night was better because daylight riding drew swarms of stinging bugs to the flop sweat soaking the destrier’s hide.
A fierce howl stopped the animal dead, nearly throwing Jem from the saddle. He righted himself and patted the destrier’s neck, telling her to calm down. The canyon was covered in shadows, but nothing seemed to move. Jem drew one of his guns and waited.
Anyone who’d grown up in Seneca knew about the werja. Jem had never seen one. Most that did never lived to talk about it.
Morning began like a spark of flint in a corner of the sky that soon set fire to the distant mountain peaks. Jem rode into the open plains pulling his hat down over his eyes, trying to see ahead. In that moment he pictured Sam, twenty years prior, emerging from the same canyon, looking up at the same sky.