Sunshine Walkingstick Omnibus

by Celia Roman

  “When?”

  “Between the first one and you.” I set my own sandwich down and crossed my arms over my chest. “She died, by the way. That first painter? Me and a friend found her lying across the road not far from here.”

  Libby’s mouth pinched into a frown. “I’ll let her family know.”

  “Kinfolk?” I ventured tentative like, and she nodded once, abrupt and hard.

  Charlie swiped his sandwich off the plate onto the floor. Libby muttered, “Tsali!” I shushed her and grabbed a napkin. The trailer was kid proof, had been since before Henry was birthed, God rest him.

  I knelt beside Charlie and wiped his hands clean, then picked up the sandwich and set it on the kitchen counter to throw out later. “So let me get this straight. My daddy was a two-natured, part of the Panther clan, but also a painter when he wanted to be. His mama started a war, killed your grandma, and is now after me.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Why now? I mean, why not before? She had plenty of chances to get rid of me after I was born.”

  “No, Sunny. She never would’ve hurt you while your daddy was living. She loved him too much.”

  “But after—”

  “After, you were too well protected.” She sniffed delicately and her nostrils flared. “There’s magic around you, strange, foreign magic.”

  I nodded toward the door as I plopped back down in my chair. “Old Mother’s hexes, but she just put ‘em there.”

  “New magic,” Libby agreed. “What I sense is…ancient. Powerful. It surrounds you.”

  I shook my head, baffled. Weren’t no other magic ‘round me, none I knowed of nohow. “I don’t wanna be dragged into the middle of all this.”

  “None of us wanted war, cousin.” She leaned forward and wrapped a strong hand around my forearm. Her palm was unnaturally warm, almost too hot to bear. “Stand with us, Sunny. With your support, we can defeat your grandmother and bring an end to the killing.”

  “I can’t do nothing.” I twisted my arm, trying to break her hold, and got a whole lotta hurt skin to show for it. “Can’t even shift into a painter.”

  “You don’t need to. It’s your heritage that counts.” She dropped her hand and strode away from me toward her shoes, still laying in the middle of the living room carpet. “She’ll come after you again, Sunny.”

  “I’ll be ready for her.”

  Libby shook her head. “Nobody is ever ready for Betty Walkingstick when she decides you need to die.”

  A chill shivered down my spine, tightening the muscles. I rubbed my arms against it even as dread wrapped itself around me and held on for dear life.

  I helped Libby pack up her stuff and clean cake and sandwich off Charlie, and was relieved when the conversation drifted into lighter fare. She was comfortable to have here, was Libby Squirrel, and Charlie was a pure joy to be around, once he got to know a body.

  Riley called not five minutes after they left while I was getting ready for our weekly dinner and a movie date at his place.

  “Hey, there,” I said, and sounded a whole heckuva a lot cheerier than I felt. Don’t matter who you are. It’s always a mite unsettling knowing there’s a death sentence hanging over your head.

  “Hey, baby,” Riley said. “I have to cancel tonight.”

  The breath seized up in my lungs. This was it. This was the moment he was gonna tell me it was all a mistake and he couldn’t see me no more. I steeled for it best I could, but even that weren’t preparation enough for what come next.

  “There’s a wildfire up in the Nantahala National Forest near Robbinsville. Dean called me looking for volunteers.” In the background, a zipper pulled, swooshing itself together with a metallic zing. “I’ve got the training.”

  “What, you mean…?” I fumbled for the right words. “You’re gonna go fight a wildfire? Tonight?”

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. God, Sunny.” A heavy breath whooshed out of him into the line. “I wish I had time to say goodbye in person, but the fire’s pretty close to private property and it’s too big for local firefighters to contain. They need every hand they can get.”

  My throat closed around the words tumbling through my mind. I wanted to tell him no, he couldn’t go. No way, no how did I want him to risk his life fighting a fire, not after he barely escaped Afghanistan alive. Look what it’d done to him. The scars, the memories. He could act like it didn’t affect him all he wanted, but I knowed how bad he hurt.

  “Say something, baby,” he whispered, and I shook my head, forgetting for a minute that he couldn’t see me. “Just one word to let me know you’re ok.”

  I was too stunned, like a bird what’d flown into a glass window. Shocked that he was leaving, worried what’d happen to him. I cleared my throat and croaked out a wavering, “Be careful.”

  He breathed out a laugh. “Yeah. I will. And I swear I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

  “You better,” I said, and the tart orneriness finally come through. He laughed and smacked a kiss into his phone, and told me to call his mama if I needed anything. We said goodbye, sounding for all the world like lovesick teenagers more’n grown adults.

  Weren’t ‘til after I hung up that I remembered Robbinsville was the seat of Graham County, the same place the Snowbird Cherokee lived. Riley was headed right toward my grandma, and weren’t a blessed thing I could do to stop him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I yanked on a light jacket, strapped my 1911 around my waist, and snagged the critter, cage and all. My noggin was empty as a moonless sky, and my thoughts scattered along the four winds. Fame’d know what to do, and if not him, then maybe Missy.

  God, please, let one of ‘em have some ideas.

  I hoofed it up the trail at a half run with one hand holding my cellphone to my ear waiting for Riley to pick up, scarce paying attention to the deep wood and the silence settling over it in the dusky twilight. The autumn air hung heavy here, a reflection of the sick worry ratcheted around my heart.

  My grandma didn’t know about Riley, couldn’t know about him, could she? He was safe long as he stayed with t’others. He’d be safe.

  Riley’s phone finally dumped into voicemail. I left a terse message telling him to call me back soon as he got it, please, God, call me back, it’s urgent, then hung up, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

  I burst into the trailer without knocking, interrupting a card game. Fame half rose from the table. Trey, his card partner, twisted around and said, “What the hell, Sunny?”

  I bent over double, one hand on a knee, the other holding the cage. Air whooshed in and out of my lungs, and finally, I caught enough to blurt out, “Riley’s on his way to fight a fire near Snowbird territory.”

  Gentry set his cards face down on the table and stood. “You take my hand, cuz. Me and the critter’s gonna play.”

  I shook my head, what good it’d do. He trotted over and pried the cage outta my stiff fingers, and carried it into the living room, grinning like a loon.

  “Gentry,” I said, and Fame shushed me.

  “Him and the critter’ll be fine. You come sit down.”

  “Yessir.” I pushed myself upright and staggered to the table, ignoring the muscles screaming in my legs, then sank down in the chair Gentry’d vacated. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Missy folded her cards and hid them under her palms. “Why is Riley going to fight a fire?”

  “Volunteered. They need all the help they can get.” Which was all I knowed. I propped my elbows on the tabletop and dropped my forehead onto my fists. “I just learnt about the two-natured and Betty and the reason they’re a-feuding. Ain’t had no time to warn him yet.”

  Fame sat back in his seat, his wild blue eyes keen and sharp. “You know what she is.”

  “What she is, what daddy’s kin is.” I shrugged. “What I coulda been.”

  Missy glanced at Fame and shared a long look with him. “Betty doesn’t know about Riley, does she?”
r />   I shrugged again, but it was Fame what answered. “She might.”

  “She’ll come after him.” I knuckled the sting of tears outta my eyes. Couldn’t let my family see what Riley done to me, could I? Then they’d know me for the fool I was. “She been coming after me. Was probably her in the deep wood that day. The painter what stalked me twixt here and home?”

  Fame cursed low under his breath. “I warned you.”

  My head shot up and I aimed a glare at him. “You didn’t tell me she was a goddamn painter, Fame.”

  “You didn’t need to know,” he said, and his voice was glacial cold. “You only needed to listen and stay away from her.”

  “I ain’t been nowhere near her,” I retorted, hot as he was cold.

  Trey cupped a calming hand over my shoulder. “Easy now, Sunny.”

  “Riley’s in danger.” The words was a near shout, so loud Gentry squeaked, him or the critter one. “Don’t you get it? He’s in danger ‘cause of me, and I been trying to keep him outta that part of my life. I been trying to keep him safe.”

  “You always have,” Fame murmured, and Missy stretched her hand out and clutched his tight. He smoothed a palm over my stick straight hair, then tugged gentle like on the ends. “We protect our own, Sunny girl.”

  Riley, too. The words went unspoken, but they was there, filling up the space between us. Tears spilled over, clouding my vision, and a half sob snuck out. “What’re we gonna do, Fame?”

  “I’ll think of something. Don’t you worry none.” One corner of his mouth curved up and he tugged the ends of my hair again. “We got a little time to worry it out. Meanwhile, you best pick up them cards. Me and Trey was whooping Missy and Gentry before you come storming in.”

  Missy clucked her tongue and released his hand. “Lies!”

  Trey winked at me. “No such thing as a lie at the card table, is there Sunny?”

  I forced out a laugh, picked up Gentry’s cards, and played along, but deep in my gut, worry burrowed its way through me like a malignant worm feeding on my fear.

  Riley didn’t call me back ‘til I was in bed tossing and turning my way through a fitful sleep. I slapped around on the nightstand, fumbling for my cellphone, and finally got the dadgum thing answered.

  “What is it, baby?” he asked.

  Relief sagged through me so strong, I near about cried. “Riley. Thank the good Lord you’re ok.”

  “Of course, I’m ok. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “The fire,” I croaked out. “Where are you?”

  “At the Microtel in Robbinsville.” He coughed and cleared his throat, coughed again a mite softer. “You want to tell me what’s wrong now?”

  I flopped back against my pillow and covered my eyes with my free hand. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “The beginning sounds like a good place to me.”

  It was hard to miss the slow, wry humor in his smoke roughened voice. I let it seep into me, let it pry out the last of my worry. He was safe. He was ok. Now I had to help him stay that way.

  So I started at the very beginning with the human-eyed painter and went through ever related event since then, even the ones he participated in, not leaving out a single thing. It was nigh on the same tale I spun for Libby, only with her parts included. Maybe I shouldn’ta told Riley what she was, but seeing as how it was pertinent, not to mention part of my own blood, I figured she’d forgive me for the telling.

  Riley hmmed a lot and coughed a coupla times, but otherwise let me say my piece. When I laid ever scrap of it out for him, I ended with, “And that’s why you gotta come home, Riley, the sooner, the better.”

  “Sunny.” His sigh burst through the phone on a wave of static. “I can’t. I’m already committed to being here.”

  My fingers dug into the phone, grinding the casing into flesh. “Please, Riley. Come home for me. I sworn, I’ll never ask nothing outta you again, but please, just come back to me.”

  “I’m going to, baby,” he said, soft and gentle. “I’m gonna come home as soon as this fire’s contained.”

  Tears sprang into my eyes, clogging my sinuses, and my throat closed off. I opened my mouth to beg, plead, promise anything, but not a peep come out.

  “Don’t be mad, sweetheart. I swear I’ll be careful. We’re never alone up here anyway. I’ve got two roommates and a half dozen other guys in my fire crew.” He paused for a minute. A door closed and another male voice spoke, too low for me to hear, and finally, Riley said, “Sunny?”

  “Still here.” I swallowed hard and mustered up a little more, just for him. “Swear you’ll be ok, ‘cause if something happens to you, I’m gonna whoop your ever loving hide.”

  His laughter morphed into a full blown chuckle, ending on a wheeze. “Sorry, baby. You’ve got such a way with words.”

  “That ain’t all I got a way with,” I said, tart as a sour cherry, and he laughed again.

  I couldn’t let the conversation end on a low note, so I asked him about the fire, then bullied him into a promise to find some cough drops for the cough he got from inhaling too much smoke. When we said goodnight, we was both about back to normal.

  Only for all Riley’s promises, I couldn’t help the fear clinging to my heart that something bad was headed our way.

  Chapter Twenty

  I didn’t sleep no better after Riley’s call than before. Seemed like overnight, my mattress growed a few lumps what I never noticed before, ‘cause I discovered ever single one that night.

  It weren’t the mattress stealing sleep, though. It was the worry eating away at my innards. I didn’t rest none ‘til dawn broke over the mountains, bathing barren trees in a cold, golden light, and Riley’s morning text beeped on my phone.

  I rolled over soon as I heard the beep and read the message posthaste. Still here, baby, it said, and I flopped back on the mattress and sank into a relieved sleep.

  The phone rung, waking me a scant half hour later. I checked the call’s ID. Local number, not one I knowed. Dang it all. Just when I was getting some good snoozes in, too.

  I rubbed bleary eyes awake enough to swipe the call open and answered with a curt, “Yeah?”

  “Sunshine?” a delicate female voice said. “This is Jena Brookshire. I’m sorry to call so early.”

  “No problem, Miss Jenny,” I mumbled. “Is ever thing ok?”

  I near about slapped myself. ‘Course ever thing weren’t ok. Nobody called at this hour of the day ‘less something was wrong.

  “I have a problem.” The words was spaced a mite too far apart, like they was drug outta her one syllable at a time. “I asked around at school, very discreetly, of course, and a fellow teacher told me you were the one to call, so I…”

  “You?” I prompted when her voice tapered off.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she continued on a near wail.

  “Well, I reckon you best start at the beginning.” Riley’s voice echoed mine in memory, and I winced. Dang his hide. Weren’t it bad enough agitating over him kept me awake all night? Now I gotta have his wry voice in my head telling me what to say, too? I shook off my grump, or tried to, and said, “Where you at?”

  “A hotel.”

  That woke me up like nothing else could. I sat straight up, holding the covers to my bitty breasts with one hand and the phone to my ear with t’other. “Something happen at home?”

  “Something.” She huffed out a sound what was part laugh, part terror. “Evil. I know it sounds crazy.”

  “Not so much,” I murmured. Weren’t it my job to deal with stuff ordinary folk didn’t understand, or out and out denied existed? “Did you get a good look-see?”

  “Not much of one. I was getting ready for bed last night when I heard a weird scream outside, like a woman crying.”

  Oh, crap. Not another painter. I slithered outta bed, ignoring the shivers trembling through me, and snagged a pair of clean jeans outta the chest of drawers. “What time was this?”

  “Around ten? I like to re
ad in bed for a while, so.” She laughed again, this one more genuine. “You don’t need to know that.”

  “Ever little bit helps.”

  And it did, considering some of the books I caught her toting home from the library. Weren’t beyond reckoning what she mighta summoned up something ‘cause of her nighttime reading, or something was attracted to her ‘cause of it. Not the same thing, though most folks wouldn’t make the distinction.

  In any case, I weren’t gonna discourage her none from telling the story in her own words. Sometimes folks overlooked details when they was being questioned. Best to let the words flow where they would.

  “A shadow passed across the window,” she said, “and big clomping footsteps hit the porch.”

  “It skeered you.”

  “Scared the life out of me, quite frankly. I panicked and packed a bag, and left as soon as I found my car keys.”

  I paused in the middle of digging out a clean t-shirt. “You didn’t go outside, didja?”

  “Oh, no. I was far too scared. Terrified, really. My car was in the garage. There’s a door between it and the kitchen.”

  “Did it come after you when you left?”

  “I didn’t look. As soon as the garage door opened fully, I left.”

  Did she realize how close she coulda come to being got? Being inside a car weren’t much protection from monsters, ‘specially one determined to get you. And if it was big enough, well. Some monsters could crumple a car with one swipe of their hands or paws or whatever appendage was handy.

  On the other hand, maybe it weren’t no monster. Maybe it was a painter up to no good, like my daddy’s mama stalking me in the deep wood. Only one way to find out and that was to visit Miss Jenny’s house and scout around.

  “Can you meet me at your house in about an hour?” I asked.

  Her breath rushed out in a shallow sigh. “Why on Earth?”

  “So I can have me a good look-see.” I slammed the t-shirt drawer shut and gathered underwear. “It’s gotta be done, Miss Jenny.”