Chapter Seven

After retrieving her truck, Reba contacted Deputy Lomax, neighbors, and folks in town. No sign of Grandma Pearl. After she flagged the deputy down for the third time, he didn’t try to hide his exasperation. “Go home. Stay by the phone. There’s nothing more you can do.”

Now alone in the house, waiting and watching, her mind buzzed with what to do next. Exhausted, grimy, lost in a daze, Reba filled the tub with the coolest water she could stand for her enflamed back. She added Epsom salts and after a thorough soak she splurged with almond scented bath beads.

“As close to heaven as you can get,” the clerk in Elkville promised her.

She could sure use a touch of heaven. She tried her best to spend a few moments thinking of anything but her earthly real world. She sank into the water, absorbing the sting that stabbed her back. She closed her eyes and imagined swimming in a lake of huge bubbles the size of beach balls that looked like moon-eyed cows. When one popped, the cow disappeared, but up floated huge, juicy hamburgers piled with tomato, sweet red onion, dill pickles, and dripping with steak sauce. Just out of her reach.

I must be hungry.

She had no desire to cook anything, although she’d had nothing but snacks all day. Pizza sounded good. She sat up. Pizza! She’d forgotten all about Michael’s invitation to her and Ginny. She dropped down with a sigh into the bubbles again.

Sometime later, she jerked up. She must have dozed because the water turned stony cold and bubbles vanished. Mustn’t sleep. She gasped for breath. Her teeth chattered as she swiped fast with a towel and pulled on cotton pajamas and a robe. Where’s Ginny? She needed her back cream. Where’s Grandma? They needed to talk.

She lugged a large down pillow into the living room. When she collapsed on the couch, she tossed and turned, alert to any sound or movement. “Grandma, please stay safe. Come home soon.” She dreaded the very mention she might never see her again. Alive. She also feared addressing the news from Tim. Would she have to accuse her grandmother to her face? Or would she keep the fact of learning about the alleged betrayal a secret? In thankfulness for her return. In order to maintain peace between them.

But the inner wound stabbed her again. “Oh, Grandma, how could you?”

She stewed in the dark, eyes wide. Then she sat up. Scraping noises seemed to be coming from outside. She tiptoed to the door, heart thudding. Someone loitered on the porch.

Shadows drifted through the sheer white curtains and onto the wall by the fireplace mantle. Her grandmother’s rocker scraped across the boards. Reba pushed against the front door and felt for the lock and bolt. She leaned against the wall and held her breath. Creak. Creak. Creak. With a lunge to the far side of the window, she squinted into the moonlight and almost laughed out loud in relief.

She unbolted the lock and whispered to the rocking silhouette, “Don, what are you doing here?”

“I’m not moving, so don’t go fussing, girl.” The glint of a shotgun slapped across his lap proved he meant to stay.

“I have to admit, I’m glad you’re here. Do you know if Tim made it home yet? He and Ginny have sure been gone a long time.”

“No. I called Sue Anne and asked about him about an hour ago.”

She clicked the door shut and added a fresh entry to the positive side of the Dating Don List. He had her back. He would try to protect her.

Long after midnight, Reba awoke to the sounds of a car and headlights beaming through the front room window. By the time she peered out, the lights switched off. She stuffed her feet into tennies, wrapped her bathrobe tight, grabbed a flashlight, and sprinted out. “Who is it? I thought I saw a door open.”

Don was already at the car. She stumbled on the driveway as she bumped into the ribs of a body and heard a groan. She flipped the flashlight down. “Grandma! Are you all right? What happened?” She knelt down and felt a stab of relief to view the dearest person in her life.

“I think I’m okay,” Pearl said. “I tripped getting out of the car. My bad knees again. But don’t worry about me. Get the dogs. They’re scared to death.”

“That’s not the only thing scared in here,” Don reported. “There are two men tied up with mouths taped and quivering like porcupines. They both look a bit battered and bruised too.”

Reba helped Pearl get to the house. She put a call in to Deputy Lomax and then to Vincent who drove right over. They both insisted they take Pearl to the emergency room at the Elkville hospital for a checkup, but she refused to go. “I know when I’m hurt. This is nothing. I’ll heal up fine.”

Reba tried to scold her for taking such a risk.

Vincent took both of Pearl’s hands in his. “You scared us to death.”

Assured he seemed sincere, Reba resisted thinking about him and Beatrice in his hotel room talking about opal mines.

“I know. I’m sorry. But I had to.” Pearl raised sad, weary eyes to Reba. “I’ve got to pull my weight around this ranch. Can’t leave it all to my granddaughter to do.”

Reba reached out to hug her as tears threatened. She agonized, torn with love and dismay, the bond of family and the newly suffered stab of distrust.

Pearl rasped out, “I was more determined to fight back than to be frightened. ‘Course, now I’m shaking like aspen leaves. I can still taste the blood from the bumps I took. By the one called Wade.” She licked the inside of her mouth and pointed to a tall guy with thick, curly black hair. He glared back at her. “He’s the leader of those two. He drove the getaway car.” She grimaced. “I’m so sorry about Ginny’s beautiful Jaguar. I’m afraid that’s my fault.” She looked around. “Where is she?”

“With Tim. They’re hauling her car to some late night garage.”

“I stopped at Whitlow’s Grocery earlier,” Vincent said. “They told me Tim and Ginny took the Jaguar to an Elkville shop.”

“They should be back by now,” Reba said.

Deputy Lomax arrived with County Sheriff Ed Goode. “It’s not your fault, Pearl,” they both insisted when she bemoaned Ginny’s car.

“I’m afraid it is. If I hadn’t gone after them, at least that would have survived.”

“If you hadn’t, no telling who else might have gotten hurt. They certainly did plenty of violence to your house.” The sheriff stood to attention, as though deferring respect to one of Road’s End’s most beloved citizens.

“I know had to do it,” she repeated. “They violated my home. I had to prove I can take care of myself and protect my own property, my ranch.”

“Grandma, they were armed.”

Pearl snickered. “They thought they were, but they didn’t know Cole’s revolver held blanks. No one but me knew that if they’d pointed the shotgun my way that might have been a different story. And I found out I’ve still got a hefty roping arm. I knocked the revolver out of Wade’s hand like a toy.”

“The charges are adding up. They’ll have some serious jail time ahead of them,” the sheriff said.

“At least they didn’t maim or murder me,” Pearl replied.

“And we’re so incredibly glad of that.” Of course Reba was grateful. I still love her, no matter what she allegedly did. “What’s the other guy’s name?” She looked over a short man about her age with premature balding head.

“Pwah-sohn. P-o-i-s-o-n. Go figure.”

“Maybe he’s French.”

“Nothing French about him except the name, far as I could tell. He does spew some salty language. They both do. Better to leave that tape on them.” Pearl turned to the sheriff and deputy. “I did learn they consider themselves part of some gang. They were headed to join up with some others and they didn’t seem anxious to visit any family members.”

The deputy wrote notes. “Gang, eh? Could be some beer buddies or an ex-con reunion.”

“I discovered why they picked my place. They hung out at the Picaroon Saloon and found out I’d be at church Sunday morning. They waited for their buddies and when they didn’t show, they decided to see what they could steal for the road. They’re big into pawn shops and some sort of black market.”

“How did you manage to tie them up?” the deputy asked.

They all fixed on Pearl with full attention. “They drove me to that out of the way road stop off Water Wagon Road and Wade shoved me around a bit. Then they tried to tie me up, but Blue and Paunch snapped and growled at them like wolf dogs. Never saw them look so terrifying before. I got the revolver before Wade had a chance to try to shoot them and expose the blanks. Then the dogs put the fear of God in their cowardly hearts as they got circled and corralled. When they tripped over themselves and fell down, they pounced on top of them. They’re the real heroes. I think Wade and Poison both might even have a bite or two on them.”

Don brought in a couple huge gunnysacks. “Here are their pickings from your place.”

Reba searched and found her jewelry box. She decided to start wearing her treasures, at least on Sundays…and maybe going out with Don. She felt an inward groan as she picked up the music box Tim gave her. Better toss it. The sadness squeezed tighter. If only…

“Well, will you look at this?” Don lifted out some strands of barbed wire from one of the sacks, both Runcie and Cahill varieties.

“That should solve at least one mystery.” Reba peered deep into Don’s eyes.

The deputy and sheriff transferred the prisoners to the patrol car.

“I’ll call Lisl if there’s any more trouble,” Reba called out. She felt a touch of villainy in her heart, both on the deputy’s behalf and Don’s.

Pearl determined to rest on the couch until Ginny arrived and both Vincent and Don stayed. Pearl dozed off and on as Reba took pain pills and watched through the front window for a sign of a vehicle. Vincent and Don discussed Seattle Mariners, Road’s End mineral discovery legends, and the price of wheat.

An hour later, headlights pointed toward them. A passenger door opened and a pickup with trailer quickly departed. Ginny entered the house with thick black eyeliner smudged, smelling of ginger and baby powder, curly hair pulled back on one side with a large wooden barrette. “We had to wait for a tow truck to take the Jaguar to Boise. Apparently, all of the drivers were out of town in Elkville. Finally, a guy showed. My insurance carrier works with a dealer in southern Idaho.”

Reba detailed the events in her absence.

“Pearl, I’m so glad you’re safe,” she responded. “I’m sure my insurance will kick in to replace my car. Meanwhile, you’re stuck with me without wheels.”

Reba stifled a yawn. “Can you endure more time in our rustic village?”

Ginny tossed her head. “It’s been fifteen years since I’ve lived here and nothing significant has changed. But I find I have. Not sure if that’s good or bad. Maybe I’ll find out.”

“Well, I’m delighted to have you here. Can you please lather my back?” Reba stretched and groaned.

“Of course, girlfriend. After that, let’s eat. I’m starved.”

“Me too. How about you, Grandma?”

“You girls go ahead. Find what you can. But first, please help me get to bed.”

Vincent winked. “I take the hint. I’m going home.”

“Me, too,” Don said.

After Ginny daubed Reba’s wound, she prepared her Skillet Mess with sausage and rice, spinach and mushrooms, black olives, dried tomatoes, and cheese smothered in a garlic tomato sauce. “And spoon bread on the side,” she announced. “I’d make you some Greek Death but don’t have hot chorizo, green peppers, or near enough garlic.”

Reba wolfed hers down. “You’d make someone a wonderful wife.”

“That’s what Paris thought. Boy, was he wrong.”

“Maybe you need to cook for him more often. Or have you thought about the mommy track?”

“It’s not that simple. I’ve run away, you know.”

“When? Where?”

“Now. From Paris. We have our problems. We haven’t been getting along too well.”

Reba sat up straight. “But you seem like the perfect couple.”

“Ever since I heard the news the ten year fairytale marriage of Prince Charles and Diana is a painful fake, it hit me. Mine is too.”

“Oh, Ginny, I am so sorry. I hope and pray you can work it out.” This revelation troubled Reba more than she wanted to admit to herself or Ginny. Reba tried to let this news shake out and settle in, to figure what it meant for her. Why did she care so much about finding a husband? Going it alone might be the best way.

Hanna Jo abandoned her lovers or they cast off her. Prince Charles and Diana to divorce. Ginny and Paris seem estranged. Maybe amour isn’t enough. Love can’t be trusted. Or what one thinks is love. It seems people you deeply care about can’t be depended on to love you back.

Is there no such thing as true, lasting romance?

She shut her eyes. Thoughts too dismal for so late at night.

With mouth full, Ginny asked, “What do you cook that could steal a man’s heart?”

“That’s easy. Only three dishes I’m any good at...beef stew, beef veggie soup, and tamale pie. I put lots of basil in the stew, dill in the soup, and pile Grandma’s jalapeno cheesy cornbread mix on top the pie.”

“Well, it’s a start. And all hope is not dead. For example, your grandma sure seems pleased to have Vincent around.”

“Of course. They’ve been friends forever.” But what about flirty Beatrice?

“She seems more school-girl excited to me. And so does he, for that matter.”

“At their age?”

“What? Your grandma’s sixty-nine. A widowed great-aunt of mine remarried at age seventy-five. They’re as happy as lovebirds.”

“That reminds me, we missed going to Michael’s place tonight for pizza. I think he wants me to get better acquainted with his latest blonde.”

“She seems nice enough. Say, does Road’s End have a dry cleaner’s?” She stared into Reba’s blank look. “Of course not. Stupid me. I didn’t bring anything that can be washed.”

“Let’s go shopping. We could drive up to Coeur d’Alene or Spokane.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What about your ranch work?”

“A couple of the Younger kids can help with chores. They’ve done it before. Besides, I need a break.” Especially after I talk to Grandma. “We’ll go after we’re sure the heifer and Grandma and Seth are all okay.”

Ginny chewed some more, dabbed her mouth with a napkin and made eye-to-eye contact with her. “Tim told me about your conversation in the forest before we arrived.”

A quickening stab of tears threatened to overwhelm her. She looked across the living room at Pearl’s closed bedroom door and shut the kitchen door too. “What did he tell you?”

“That your grandmother practically shoved Sue Anne into Tim’s arms. And that it wasn’t until today he realized you didn’t even know.”

“Why? Why did she do it?” Reba broke into sobs.

~~~~

Reba slept little but she got up early as usual and before Dr. Olga Whey stopped by to check the heifer with paralysis of the hind legs. “Even though she’s still down, she’s alert and bright. I’m glad to see she’s eating. She should recover with time and therapy. Let me know if her condition changes.”

Fire Chief Buckhead Whitlow arrived soon after. “I tried to give Seth a report on his cabin fire, but he’s not home. Or won’t answer the apartment door, though the Model T’s in the garage.”

“I’ll check on him,” Reba said.

“Looks like it was a gas leak for sure. There was so much gas in that cabin, most any spark could have caused the explosion, especially cooking.”

“He wasn’t using the stove.”

“Smoking?”

“He doesn’t do that.”

“Even shoe scrapes across a carpet.”

“Ahhh. Speaking of gas leaks, I’ve got to get my pickup looked at.”

“Check with Franklin Fraley. He’s been doing some mechanic work on the side when the logging’s slow. Or else you’ll have to go to Elkville.”

~~~~

Reba rode Johnny Poe to Seth’s place. On one side of the garage wall hung all sizes and shapes of chisels, knives and hand tools, along with several highchairs Seth built for the town’s new babies. On display was a blackboard with a chalked to-do list: “Wash. Shoo the king snake. Spray bedroom. Pull up shades. Weed garden. Whittle at the bench.”

She found Seth sitting underneath his own Camperdown Elm, grown from another Grandpa Cahill cutting. “Buck tried to find you.”

“I know. I saw him wandering around.”

“He says you had a gas leak.”

“Don’t matter. What happened had to be for a reason.”

“So, you have a king snake around?”

“He thinks he owns the outhouse. I have to talk to him loudly whenever I go out there, to tell him he doesn’t belong. He usually scoots out of the way.”

She noticed a larger than usual alertness in the old man’s inky, sunken eyes, though his bent body seemed just as fragile. “How old were you when you moved here?”

“Old enough to know you don’t hit women with whips.”

What an odd, unexpected reply. He must have Champ on his mind. “It wasn’t on purpose. Johnny Poe wasn’t where he was supposed to be and I got in the way. Anyway, I came here for two reasons. To make sure you’re all right. And to hear more about Maidie and your family’s story.”

The old man kept whittling.

“You promised to tell me.”

A shape formed in the wood. Seth smoothed and sanded with care, taking his time. He turned the block over. The top resembled a helmet over a long stream of hair. “I can show you instead.”

When he kept carving, she said, “I don’t get it. What does it mean?”

Seth licked his lips and dabbed his mouth with a bandanna. “There’s not much time left, but it’s not too late. Nothing will be wasted.”

“Is that a riddle? What are you talking about?”

He looked at Reba with fiery intensity like she’d never seen before. “I realize how mortal I am. I must die, as Maidie did, as all my family did. Isn’t all of life a preparation for the time we leave this earth? If we see a picture of ourselves as a corpse, we take notice.”

Alarm bells rang. “Are you ill?” He did seem paler than more recent days when he whittled woodpeckers and owl in the sun on Main Street with his friends.

“I received two letters in the mail last week. One from a Canadian cartel who has decided to do open pit mining near Worthy, Nevada, in part on the property where my mother had her mine. So there is a time factor.”

“I’m very confused. Please explain.”

He carved out wide, deep eyes in the wood, and the beginning shape of a nose and mouth. “I want to try to rescue my mother and sisters from that cartel’s machines.”

“Are they buried at your mother’s mine?”

“Not exactly buried. I’ve got to find them first.”

“Some of them might be alive?” She attempted a quick assessment of how old they’d be. Older than Seth who was ninety-one.

“No. They’re lost. But I think I know where they are. And there’s the other letter.” He carved and sanded some more.

“Who was it from?”

“Hanna Jo.”

An electric bolt sliced through her.

“I’ve been havin’ a dream. Whether it’s an actual dream or a vision-like, I can’t tell. We’re on the mountain trail going up to Worthy to Mama’s diggin’s. Uriah Runcie gets us to the prospector’s camp and they’re friendly this time. They offer us a drink. We enjoy their company. We laugh and sing cheerful songs. Then Uriah remembers he forgot Mama’s hairbrushes. My heart sinks because it won’t do to arrive at the diggin’s without Mama’s special request. So we jump in the wagon and return to Goldfield.”

Reba’s chest heaved and she began to breathe normal again. “You said this is a dream? It didn’t really happen?”

“Not sure what it is. When we got back with the hairbrushes, we don’t stop to visit with the prospectors. I’m startin’ to feel a delicious and calmin’ kind of contentment that everything’s goin’ our way. But it gets dark sooner than usual. We can’t see so well. So we stop to camp. All night I listen for the gusty wind through the wires, that familiar song, but all I hear is coyotes howlin’. They close in on us, yappin’ and callin’ for backups. Then we’re surrounded. Uriah shoots round after round. One of them…his teeth gnashes my face and I fear he’s found dinner. I scream and wake myself up.”

“That’s a nightmare. You have it often?”

Seth gave a quick nod. “When I go back to sleep, we’re at the foot of the mountain again and we’re being followed. Uriah loses them before the turnoff. We reach Worthy and there is Mama alive, her skirt blowin’ in the breeze. And she’s wearing her turquoise necklace. I’m so overcome with joy I can hardly contain myself. The girls are there too and happy. They pick me up and swing me around. Baby Maidie is healthy and cooin’ and gigglin’.”

“Oh, Seth, how wonderful. Sounds like how it will be in heaven, don’t you think?” She wondered if Seth heard about Champ and their confrontation over the squash blossom necklace.

“That’s when we climb back to get the goods and Mama says, ‘Who are those people?’ I look up the hillside and we’re surrounded by men with guns who start shootin’.”

Reba imagined the dread and fear, the doom of imminent, violent death.

“I look around for Uriah to defend us, but he’s gone. And Mama’s with another man. Looks like one of the prospector’s. And they’re kissing.” Seth lifted his carving. A neck, a raised arm and fist. The arm held a weapon.

A sword?

He sanded the edges. “Anybody who ever met my mother never forgot her. The Stroud women were either strong or crazy. One or the other. Mother was the strong one. Invincible. I remember so clear, every detail. The cruel, rude gales poundin’ on me. The smell of the walls closin’ in. The sound of Molly’s heavy breathin’. The touch of my mother’s cold, dead skin. It shocked me that fierce.”

“So, is this still the dream? Or is this part real? You saw your mother that day. When you rescued Maidie as a baby, your mother was there too?”

“No, it was in the dream, the one I want to forget. The one I want to never relive.”

Seth, you’re not making sense. He’s so full of unforgotten pain. A crackling silence settled between them. Reba noticed a patch of stubble Seth missed when he shaved. So unlike him. She patted him there on the cheek. “Did you ever tell Maidie the stories and dreams about Worthy?”

“I told her the happy ones.”

So what did you leave out?

He set the carving on the grass and stretched back against the elm tree. “I’ll be headin’ out as soon as I can,” he announced. “To Worthy.”

Reba knelt in the grass to look the old man over more closely. A hitch in her heart skipped a beat. “You mean, Nevada?”

Seth nodded. “I’ve got a fire shut up in my bones. I want to play descants with my fiddle and hear the wire winds once more before I die.”

“Why didn’t you go when you were younger and stronger? Why wait until now?”

“Because of Maidie. And…other things.” He picked up the carving again. “God says, ‘go now.’”

Oh, dear. Reba would never want to discourage anyone from doing God’s will. But it was obvious. This was over and out, beyond a sensible call. “I’ll drive you there. Is that what you’re wanting? I’d be glad to do it. Maybe Ginny will come with us, if she’s not gone by then. I’ll get the Younger kids to help out on the ranch for a couple days.”

“I’m taking the Model T.”

Reba frowned at the frail wisp of a man. “No need for that. I’ve got to get my truck’s gas leak fixed, but that won’t take long. It’ll be what? A couple days there and a couple days back. Less than a week. I’ll get someone to look in on Grandma too. You can’t go alone.”

“You’re right about that. But I’m going in my car.”

Reba placed her hands on her hips and gave him her best bossy face. “You can’t possibly do that. Do you have any idea how long that will take? You’ll be worn to a frazzle. There’s no need.”

Seth closed one eye and tilted his head. He put his fingers up as if measuring the distance from Road’s End to the sun. “Considering a few stops and making allowance for breakdowns and such, Road’s End to Goldfield is 740 miles. On long road trips, with an upgrade done by Franklin Fraley, the Model T should make about 140 miles a day. It’ll take less than a week.”

He’d been planning this for a while. “One way, you mean. Twice that for the round trip. Why drag it out so long?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Well, you’d better state them or I’ll refuse to let you go. So will Grandma. Besides, I thought you said there was a time factor. The Canadian cartel and all.”

“If everything goes right, I’ll make it in time.”

Reba concentrated on the carving in Seth’s hands. Was that armor covering the shoulders and chest?

Seth closed his eyes and bowed his head. Reba walked Johnny Poe to the other side of Seth and started brushing his mane, their backs to the direct sun. Her mind dipped in desperation. She had to talk him out of this. He couldn’t survive such a trip. And what about that letter from her mother he mentioned? What did that have to do with this nonsense? Maybe she could bluff him. “You absolutely cannot go alone.” This is a test, Lord, only a test.

He pulled a pencil and small notebook out of his pocket and made a quick mark. “Yes, I know.”

“You know what?”

“I’m not going alone.”

“Good. Who is going with you?”

“You are.”

Whoa. Better make myself clear real quick. “Oh no, I’m not. Not unless you let me drive you there in my pickup. A quick trip there and back. That’s the only way, time-wise, I can be involved.”

“That letter from your mother…it was postmarked Silver Peak, Nevada. That’s right next to Worthy.” He paused like he wanted that to sink in. “That’s where she is right now.”

Reba clutched a wad of Johnny Poe’s hair and wound it around her hand. The horse jerked back and she let go. “What difference does that make? She didn’t write to me. She wrote to you.”

“She wrote to us both.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a slip of paper.

Keep it, Reba was tempted to scream. She wanted nothing to do with her mother. No matter what, she wouldn’t change her mind. She refused to take a slow boat to anywhere. Or a snail’s pace Model T car trip to the desert. She gaped at the folded note, not much larger than a man’s thumb, as though torn from a scratch pad. Whatever the words, they could not begin to make up for years of silence. Of abandonment.

Why bother? Why deepen the wound?

“You don’t have to read it for yourself.” Seth’s eyes narrowed and glazed as though he discerned her every thought. “Read it for me. And for Maidie.”

That didn’t make sense. What did either of them have to do with what happened between her and her mom? She attempted to distract him. “I wore the necklace to church yesterday.”

“I know. It was part of the plan.”

What plan? She rubbed her forehead as a headache clamped her skin. She owed Seth something for all his years of kindness. She felt herself weakening. Finally, she gave up. She resigned herself to humor a dear old man who so recently lost his closest family member and only true friend. And probably wasn’t in his clearest mind.

Against her inner instincts, her practiced survival and coping skills over the years, she opened the note with delicate care.

Dear Reba Mae:

Please Come!

Love, Mom

She stood there a long moment, trying to hang on to the comfortable rut of habitual resistance and unbelief, yet stunned by the sudden unexpected. Seven words changed everything. She marveled at the inner shift. Like some huge oceanic tectonic plate. She felt herself soften, to dare consider the risk, the gamble, and the great leap over a lifetime crack in her being. To dare to hope.

But she had to drag her heels some.

“Maybe she mailed it from this Silver Peak place and is halfway across the globe by now,” Reba said. “So like her, don’t you think?”

“Nope. She’s there. Trust me on that.” The old man’s cloudy, gray eyes cleared.

“Even if she is, why doesn’t she come here? Why must I leave my job and everything and go there? How is that fair? And how will I find her?”

“That’s how it is.”

Irritation rumbled in her stomach. The old resentment pounded her forehead. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Seth nodded. He slammed the carving knife into the ground with a swift, sharp thunk. “She was strong, you know. Strong as Eve. My sweet Maidie never was crazy, until an evil wind blew. With God’s help, we must drive it out.”

As Reba scrunched the paper in her jeans pocket, another trickle spouted from a crack in the great dam she’d erected. Far across town and over the pasturelands, Reba thought she heard some wind full of bluster, trying to tell her something. She strained to listen, but it was garbled.

She realized with a start she had been wrong. Words did exist to call her out, to force her to consider taking a strange journey. She marveled that such few words could also apply a small drop of salve to her embittered heart.

She patted the horse beside her. “I won’t go without Johnny Poe. No way.”

Seth’s only response was to hold out the female warrior who clutched the outstretched sword. “This is yours. This is for you.”

She reached for the carving. Her mind wobbled as she slowly rubbed over all the shape of it, the smooth rounds and the sharp, rough ridges. What am I doing? What is happening? Where does this lead?

~~~~

Reba and Ginny finally connected with Michael to respond to his invitation.

He roomed in the country outside the village of Poplar, halfway between Road’s End and Elkville. His garage studio reeked of rotten grapes and once served as storage for wine barrels and coal tar. To use a bathroom, Michael had a key to enter the owner’s back porch room. “I make sure I never stay long enough to need the facility,” Reba told Ginny. Michael met them at the door, barefoot and paint stains on his Idaho Vandals shirt. Then he stretched next to Nina on a dingy white chenille spread that covered a couch-bed combination. He perched two pizza boxes on his chest. “You want double cheese or meat lover’s?”

Reba took a slice of the cheese, grateful for the competing aroma. She settled on top a nightstand, after clearing it. Ginny grabbed a piece of meat lover’s and ate standing.

They bantered about people they saw at the funeral, while watching a Star Trek rerun.

Reba tried to call his bluff on Nina. “I hear you’re taking pre-med classes.”

“Yes, I want to be a pediatrician. My mother’s one too.”

Well, how about that? “Where’s your family live? Where are you from?”

“Seattle. There are lots of them. They’re mostly scattered all over from Tacoma to Vancouver.”

Reba wondered whether she should venture the topic of their own family. She took a deep breath and dove in. “Michael, do you happen to know where our mother is right now?”

“Sure. In the Nevada desert somewhere. It’s on the postmark from her last letter.”

Reba caught a chill. “She writes to you?” Often?

“Two or three times since I left to come here. I even wrote back.”

Nina gave him a look. “The guy who rarely returns my phone calls?”

“I know. Don’t be shocked. I do have my duty-bound side.”

As soon as the show ended, Nina pulled on a sweatshirt over her tank top and announced, “Prep for early class. Chemistry.”

Reba walked her to the door. “Sorry you have to leave so soon.”

She touched Reba’s shoulder. “I’d like to get better acquainted. I think we could be friends.” She left in a gust of wind that blew a tall stack of newspapers around the room. Reba scurried to gather them.

“Don’t bother,” Michael said. “Nina will clean for me.”

“She’s your housekeeper too?”

“Yes. And no. It’s not what you think. She lives in a dorm at the university and needs the money.”

“She’ll make some doctor a great looking wife some day,” Ginny commented.

“Are you saying I ain’t her type? She reminds me a lot of Mom.”

Reba felt the old hardness across her chest and knotted in her stomach. “Well, I wouldn’t know.” She took a stab at a question she’d avoided before. “Did you...know your dad?”

“He took off the day after my fifth birthday. Haven’t seen him since. Heard he runs a fishing line in northern Alaska somewhere.”

“Going to check it out sometime?”

“Maybe.”

She frowned. It’s not like he had other pressing matters. Why not now? “I’m going to find Mom,” she blurted. “She wrote to me too. From Silver Peak.”

“Ah, the wild horses.” He rose up and spilled the pizza boxes. “Hey, if you need someone to help out at the ranch while you’re gone...” He stopped.

“What about it?”

“I’ve got some free time.”