Sunshine Walkingstick Omnibus

by Celia Roman

  I took my hand back soon as polite was satisfied and stuck it in my back pocket where it couldn’t be persuaded into touching no more strangers. “Pleased to meetcha.”

  “Likewise.” She patted the buggy’s handle. “This is Charlie, my youngest.”

  The solemn-eyed toddler stared unblinking at me and kicked the back of his heels against the buggy. Libby tapped her hand gently against the handle and said, “Tsali,” and the kicking stopped just like that.

  Now, that was some good discipline.

  I shrugged a shoulder toward the paper towels. “Best get back to it.”

  “Me, too.”

  Not knowing what else to say, I waved and started turning back toward my own buggy.

  “Sunshine, wait.” Libby glanced at Charlie, then stepped closer to me and lowered her voice. “I was sorry to hear about your son.”

  That got my attention in a flash. How’d she knowed about Henry when the Snowbird Cherokee was so insular? I cast around for a polite response and settled on, “Thank ye kindly.”

  “It was a shame, the way he died.”

  A wad of loss slammed into me, unexpected in its vim. Hardly nobody knowed the truth about Henry’s death outside a handful of family, and them what didn’t know would never believe what’d happened.

  Libby inched closer and her next words came out in a near whisper. “Are you sure it was a pooka?”

  The blood drained outta my head and I swayed. How’d she knowed about the pooka? How could she question it?

  Riley rounded the corner behind Libby and stopped dead in his tracks. “What’s wrong, Sunny?”

  Libby glanced around at him, then hissed a quick, “Not everybody agreed with your grandmother, Sunshine. Remember that.”

  She took the buggy in hand and wheeled it and her son away, right past Riley and his all too keen stares, and I stood there like a lump, sorrow and shock so deep in my heart, my limbs froze where they was.

  Chapter Nine

  Riley got me outta Wal-Mart and into his apartment, though the hows and whats was beyond my ken or remembrance. He settled me down on his couch and pressed a cup of hot chocolate between my numb hands, and sat down beside me, one hand stroking my stick straight hair, the other helping me hold the hot chocolate.

  I was trembling from head to toe. Real careful like, I handed him the cup. “Better take this before I spill it all over your couch.”

  “Ok, baby.” He took the cup, set it on the coffee table. Cupped both my hands between his and rubbed. “What happened?”

  I blinked at him through tears and my vision blurred. “She’s my cousin. That woman in the Wal-Mart? On Daddy’s side.”

  He nodded like I made perfect sense. “She upset you.”

  “Yeah, she…”

  No, that weren’t right. She didn’t upset me so much as I was upset over her words and the remembrances her words inspired. Riley done knowed about daddy’s family. I told him when we was young’uns, back when I still believed in things like hope and love and happy ever after.

  “Did she say something?” he asked.

  “Henry,” I said, and my voice broke like my heart, into a million pieces scattered on the wind. “She asked if I knowed what killed him, if I was sure.”

  Riley swore under his breath and tugged me onto his lap, and I nestled there, somehow needing his strength more’n I ever needed anything from him. Couldn’t tell him Libby didn’t mean nothing by it. Couldn’t say she just been trying to comfort me, like he was now.

  Only, coming from a stranger, them words cut right to the bone. Nobody knowed the full truth about the pooka what killed Henry outside of close kin, not even Riley. I hadn’t told him, had I, hadn’t had a chance to spill the beans, though I was dead sure rumor’d reached him. That’s why he come to me in the first place a few weeks back. I had a real talent for killing the killers.

  He really needed to know how Henry died, didn’t he?

  I opened my mouth, full on intending to blurt out ever last horror from finding Henry’s blood splashed across the trail to tracking the pooka through the deep wood and killing it with Daddy’s bone handled hunting knife.

  His legacy twined with Mama’s murderous blood, all wound up inside me.

  My mouth snapped shut around the truth. What was I doing tainting Riley with my sins?

  I struggled to get away from him, and his arms tightened around me and he shushed me, and instead of breaking free, the gusto flooded outta me and I went limp. A harsh sob erupted outta me, like lava spewing from a volcano, and I cried all the heartache into Riley, and he sat there and shared his strength ‘til I couldn’t cry no more.

  The earth shifted under me, and I woke wrapped in Riley’s strong arms. He set me gentle as a lamb on his bed and sat down beside my feet.

  I blinked away sleep and the remnants of tears clouding my vision, and forced my eyes to focus on him. “What’re you doing?”

  “Taking care of you,” he said without looking up. “You’re sleeping here tonight.”

  An odd note tinged the words, harsh and firm and no nonsense, a tone I never heard from him before.

  I cleared my throat, wishing for all the world he’d look at me, say something, do anything to let me know what was going on in that handsome noggin of his. “I’m ok now.”

  It was mostly true. The sorrow and loss what’d drove me to sob like a baby into his shirt was muted now, and not much bigger’n normal inside me. I was groggy, sure, but that weren’t no cause for concern. A hot shower, a snack, and a good night’s rest, and I’d be right as rain.

  Riley scooted the hem of my pants up and picked at the knots tying my left boot together. “I said you’re sleeping here.”

  I waited for irritation to strike and got a whole lotta numb in its place. For the sake of my independence, I mustered up a good sound alike. “You ain’t got no right telling me what to do.”

  He glanced up then, and I near about flinched away from him, them hazel eyes of his was so hard and flat and cold. “Don’t test me, Sunshine. Not tonight.”

  I opened my mouth, about to spit something ugly back at him, and closed it when nothing come out. Hang it all, where’d my gumption run off to?

  His fingers picked up their work, trembling so slight nobody else woulda noticed ‘less he was touching ‘em. He was touching me, though, weren’t he? And his fingers’ faint vibrations feathered through my boot into my skin.

  My breath went shaky and shallow, and an awful foreboding rose within me. “What’s wrong, Riley?”

  “Nothing, baby.” He blew out a breath and his hands clutched my ankle, gripping me tight. “Maybe you should do this while I find you a t-shirt to sleep in.”

  “I’m ok,” I said, but my voice was so thin and weak, not a soul woulda believed it. “I can take care of myself.”

  His gaze rose up and clashed with mine, and fire shone where he was so distant before. “Goddamn it, Sunny. Why can’t you just let me help you for once? Why do you always have to push me away?”

  I reared back, shocked to the bone. “I weren’t—”

  He shoved himself off the bed and stared down at me, his temper a vivid ghost overshadowing his kinder self. “Get your boots off. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Riley,” I said, but he pivoted and stalked outta his bedroom, and a few seconds later the outer door to the apartment opened and near about slammed shut, leaving me alone and shaky and weary as I ever been.

  I sat up, swung my legs over the side of the bed. The world spun ‘round and pain speared into my forehead. I groaned and slapped my hands to my noggin, holding on like that’d do any good. Crying always give me the worst headache. On top of the sorrow throbbing in my chest, it was about more’n I could stand, hang it all.

  A beat passed, then two, and finally, reality settled down around me long enough for me to lean over and set to work on my bootlaces without keeling over onto the industrial beige carpet.

  Riley was back before I could get my boots undone, s
talking through the apartment like that painter what appeared on the trail between Fame’s trailer and mine. My hands stilled on the knots and I waited for him to come into the bedroom, but his footsteps veered off into another part of the apartment. Hollow metal hit metal. A door swooshed open and closed.

  The kitchen, then. Maybe I should go after him, try to talk him outta his mood.

  I shrugged the notion off soon as it popped into my head. Riley’s temper was hot, but it never lasted long. Give him enough time and he’d come ‘round all apologetic, even when he was in the right.

  Like right now.

  I flexed stiff fingers and attacked the bootlaces again, focusing all my attention there and not on Riley banging pots and pans in the kitchen, and lost myself in the tangle they become.

  Oh, what tangled webs enmeshed me, ‘cept I hadn’t wove ‘em to deceive.

  “Sunny,” Riley said, soft like.

  My heart shot into my throat and I about jumped outta my skin. He was standing in the doorway, expression inscrutable, with his hands tucked into the back pockets of his worn jeans. I give up on the bootlaces, tried on friendly over the thready thump of my heartbeat, and managed a thin smile. “You ok?”

  Pink flooded his cheeks and he glanced away. “Didn’t mean to yell at you.”

  “Aw, Riley.” I hefted out a gusty sigh and patted the bed next to me. “Thanks for taking care of me. You know, before when I was crying like a banshee and soaking your shirt through and through.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched and he shrugged.

  I forged ahead, determined to mend the rift gaping between us. “You got time to round up that t-shirt for me?”

  His eyes snapped to mine and he blinked. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Or I could just go on home.” Not that I wanted to.

  My face twisted into a frown. No, I sure didn’t wanna be by myself tonight, alone with my thoughts and Henry’s ghost hovering over me, questioning what I thought was right when I was a-doin’ it.

  Or maybe instinct took over back then. Maybe I missed something that night I found my sweet boy’s blood. Maybe that pooka weren’t to blame and I murdered an innocent creature instead of ridding the land of a killer.

  Stone cold, coon crazy. Like mother, like daughter.

  Damn Libby Squirrel for planting doubts in my head.

  Riley crossed the room and brushed a kiss across my forehead. “Sleep on it, baby. You’ll know what to do come morning.”

  His words startled me good. Such implicit faith in a woman what held none.

  I caught his hand as he was turning away. “You’re too good to me, Riley Treadwell.”

  A faint smile stretched his mouth, erasing the last line of temper etched into his face. “Don’t you forget it, Sunshine Walkingstick.”

  I grinned around the echo of heartache lingering inside me. That was one thing I’d try my darnedest to do, from now ‘til he got tired of me and my ornery ways.

  Chapter Ten

  Early the next morning, I begged a ride home from Riley. Sleeping in his bed weren’t so bad. Now, I can’t pretend he stayed on his side and kept to himself. That’d be an out and out lie. But the worst he did was curl himself around me after the lights went off and hold me safe and sound ‘til the rooster crowed dawn awake.

  I needed him.

  The notion had me squirming in the passenger’s seat. Been a long time since I needed somebody other’n family, and even then, it was hit or miss.

  Riley was…Riley. Stalwart and kind and endlessly patient, or near enough. And I needed that, craved it my whole life long. What’d it be like to have somebody steady in my life, somebody what wouldn’t run off or forget me, the way Daddy and Mama done? Somebody like Fame, ‘cept a friend and a lover and a rallying point all in one?

  Speaking of, I had a thing or two to say to my uncle, God bless him. I sure loved him with all my heart, but it was long past time he answered my questions about my family straight like.

  Riley eased his SUV into its spot by the IROC and shut the engine off. I rested a hand on the door, waited for him to speak or get out. When he didn’t, I glanced over at him. He was staring off into the tree line beyond the trailer. His hands was loose on the steering wheel, but his mouth was set in a thin slash across his face.

  “I gotta go up and see Fame for a minute.” I clamped my mouth shut and searched for a way to let Riley know everything was ok. Well, it weren’t right then, but it was gonna be. “You want, you can wait inside. Shouldn’t take long up the hill.”

  He shook his head once, hard, and opened his door. “You’re not facing him alone.”

  I knowed that voice. It was fresh in my head, being newly introduced last night. That was his we’re doing things my way tone. I was too tired to argue with it, drained thin from ever thing what’d happened in the past day.

  “C’mon, then,” I said, and I got out and led him up the hill, both of us quieter’n the wood. When we got there, I banged a fist into the front door of Fame’s trailer.

  Missy answered wearing a worn flannel shirt and an old pair of cutoffs with her sable curls piled willy-nilly on top of her head. Her eyes darted past me, and even I could read the curiosity resting there. “Hello, Sunshine.”

  I jabbed a thumb at Riley, suddenly nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof. Was the first time I brung a man to meet my family since Terry Whitehead, and ever body in God’s creation knowed how that turned out. “Missy, this is Riley Treadwell. Riley, this is my aunt Melissa Duggins.”

  Missy held out a hand and smiled her best hospitality smile at Riley. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Riley.”

  Riley nodded and grasped her hand. “Ma’am.”

  “Call me Missy. Everyone does.” She stepped back and waved us in, then closed the door behind us. “Fame’s in his shop.”

  “Best get him,” I said.

  Missy’s violet eyes shifted from friendly to concerned faster’n spit. “Is everything ok, darling?”

  “Will be when Fame answers a few questions I got.”

  She glanced between me and Riley again, then pivoted on the ball of one bare foot and exited through the back door.

  I fidgeted for about twenty seconds before I landed on something to do while she fetched Fame. “You want the nickel tour?”

  “I’ve been here before,” Riley said.

  I eyed the hard set of his jaw over one shoulder. “No, you ain’t.”

  “Just once.”

  I was about to ask the details when the trailer’s backdoor opened. Fame slipped into the main room a minute later, silent and deadly as a coiled up rattlesnake, followed by a frowning Missy. Them wild blue eyes of his fell on Riley and his step hesitated the slightest fraction.

  What was going on between them two?

  Fame nodded to Riley, seeming not the least bit concerned that the son of his age old enemy was standing in his home blocking one of the exits. “Hey, Sunny girl. Missy said you needed to talk.”

  “I got some questions,” I agreed easy enough. “Saw Libby Squirrel in the Wal-Mart last night. She said a thing or two about Henry.”

  Fame never blinked, but something slid into them eyes of his, something knowing and deep and hidden. “Family business is for family.”

  That steamed me up good. I said, “Riley stays,” and at the same time, Riley’s deeper voice echoed mine and he said, “I’m staying.”

  Missy sank into a chair at the kitchen table, her expression a mite too blank for belief. “I’m staying, too, unless anyone objects.”

  I shot her an exasperated glare, and her eyes went round and mock innocent.

  “Sunny’s concerned the pooka she tracked down might not’ve been what killed Henry.”

  I swung around and eyed Riley. His arms was crossed over his chest and his feet was planted wide, rooted in the carpet like a great, giant oak.

  He shrugged one shoulder. “It wasn’t hard to figure out what was wrong last night.”

  A million questions jumble
d into my noggin, all pressing to be heard, chief amongst ‘em, when had he learned about that pooka?

  Now weren’t the time for them questions, though. I sniffed and turned back around, and speared my uncle with the toughest look in my arsenal. “Libby asked if I was sure a pooka killed my boy.”

  “You tracked it,” Fame said, even as a level. “You forget how to hunt down a wild animal that night?”

  Not likely. My mind was sharp and clear the night Henry was killed, God rest him. Don’t mean I couldn’t err. I was a mere mortal, after all, and we was known to make mistakes. “Weren’t no sign of nothing else.”

  “But that’s not what’s worrying you, is it, Sunny girl?”

  He was right on the mark there. I stuck my fingers into my jeans pockets, the ones I wore yesterday since I hightailed it up here without taking the time to change. “Libby mentioned as how me and her was related through our grandmas.”

  Fame grunted. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  I narrowed my eyes on him. Sure enough, he knowed more’n he was saying. I just hadn’t found the key to unlock the words yet.

  And right then, it hit me. Maybe I did have the right key. Maybe it’d been sitting in front of me the whole time.

  “Johnny Walkingstick,” I said, and Fame paled a shade. No idea why that shot satisfaction through me, but I’d stated it. Now all I had to do was run with it. “He come by the trailer a while back wanting to reconcile.”

  Fame was shaking his head before I got the last word out. “You stay away from that ol’ fool, Sunny.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because he’s messed up in something you don’t need no part of.”

  “I got a right to know what.” And because I was as foolhardy as the next Carson by blood, I added, “I got a right to know my own kin.”

  “That man,” Fame said, nigh on spitting out the words, “ain’t no kin of yourn.”

  My fingers tightened into fists inside my pockets. “That’s the first time you ever lied to me.”