As soon as Hector saw Kate Ryan, he threw down his gun. He ran and flung his arms around her. “We thought you were dead!” he shrilled.
“He saw the slash on your daughter’s cheek,” Marcos, the Trujillo brother with greater powers of reason, explained. “He jumped to conclusions.” Marcos tipped his Isotopes baseball cap. “When he jumps, we follow.”
“It’s nothing,” Ruby said, touching her cheek where Troy’s ring nicked her.
“My eldest brother, he worries for your safety living usually alone and by yourself in the mountains with only Jesús and us to protect you.”
Kate smiled at her circle of neighbors.
What Marcos omitted was no one ever worried when Kate was alone. The only cause to worry was when she took in a man like a stray dog. Stray dogs, as everyone knew, were legal to shoot.
“What my baby brother says is true,” Hector uttered solemnly.
“Thank you, thank you all,” Kate said with studied formality. Formality was the mutual framework they acknowledged. “For your protection and good will. My daughter has had a slight accident, and our friend?” Kate gestured to the door where Troy had taken a defiant stance. “He is leaving momentarily for California.”
Hector and the others crossed the road. They were proud disaster had been averted in Zamora. And relieved to learn whatever privileges Kate Ryan had granted her recent guest would soon be ended.
Kate turned to Troy. “I saved your ass.”
His eyes admitted it was true.
“You got your things?” she asked.
Troy shuffled his feet. He looked despondently at his Army duffle crammed with worn-out clothes, a sleeping bag, a manila envelope of random photographs of home interiors, expensive cars, other people’s children, a sailboat called Jaguar nestled in a sparkling bay. He dreaded having to hit the road, forced to take any ride that stopped, finding his way to his sister’s dump in San Diego. He dreaded having to resume the hunt for a weak link, someone vulnerable where he could play his tired hand.
He found life very pleasant in the Blood of Christ mountains. He liked the sweet fresh air and light that outlined the world like a vision from the Bible. It was pleasant lying next to a pretty lady who mostly minded her own business. He wished he could make it up to Kate Ryan. He snuck a glance at her painted toes sticking out of her sandals.
“Our money,” Ruby protested.
“After I drop him off, we can get ice cream and go to the movies.” Kate started forward toward Ruby. “Come on,” she said.
“No,” Ruby mumbled, clamping the headphones over her ears. Fuck you! the music said. Ruby echoed its sentiments.