The Leftovers of a Life

by Anna Oney

  "Dad would only agree to it," Reed said, nodding toward their captives, "if them three would fight for him."

  "So y'all made a deal to save him?" she asked, looking their way.

  "Yes, ma'am," Marty replied.

  "He said he'd kill him if we didn't," Ben said.

  "On one hand, I've got three invaders who intended to steal our land by any means necessary. And on the other"—she paused, overwhelmed by the amount of decisions resting on her shoulders—"on the other, I've got three boys who made a deal with the devil to save my blood." Looking to the sky, she thought, Daddy, what do I do? Tell me what to do.

  "We don't know anything for sure," Tom said.

  "I know we don't. We won't know until he's given back to us. But I have faith. I have faith. And I know Wakiza wouldn't have kept them alive if he wasn't sure."

  "You put too much faith in what the dead have to say."

  "Listening to the dead is what's kept us alive. And if it wasn't for your mother, you and Cooper would still be out there."

  "I know what you're thinking, Emma," Tom said. "You're thinking of going back there yourself and checking to see if it's him. And I'm telling you right now, that's not going to happen."

  "Look," Reed cut in, "I agree with you, man. I do." They turned to face him. "By the looks of her, she doesn't need to be goin' nowhere."

  Feeling as though she'd been betrayed, Emma stared him down. Well to hell with you, too.

  Paying no mind to Reed's statement, Tom looked to Emma, and said, "Besides, the fastest way there is by horse."

  "Why should that matter?" Reed asked.

  "She's as inexperienced as they come."

  "She rode with me just fine."

  Oh dear, she thought. No, no, no, no.

  "Oh, when you took her against her will?"

  "Say what?" Maddox asked angrily. "What was that?"

  "Yeah, 'scuse me?" Winston paused, aiming his rifle in Reed's direction. "You took my cousin against her will?"

  "As penance for what I've done," Reed said, "I will bring him back to you. I will."

  "What about the girl?" Norman asked from behind. "She loves him. And even if she's not his daughter, you can't separate the two of them. Not without a fight."

  "Then I'll just have to bring her along, too, won't I?"

  "Everything between us will be settled. It'll be settled as long as you bring my brother home. Deal?"

  "Deal," Reed said, mounting his horse. "I should be back by sundown."

  After their new agreement had been struck, Reed made a swift departure. Emma was happy he left when he did. Since her cousins had been informed of their past dealings with each other, they hadn't stopped glaring at him with a passion to end his future days.

  Turning her attention toward their three captives, Emma broke the silence: "Would I be correct in assuming that y'all have no affection for those people?"

  "They took us in," Norman replied. "But not in a way that'd make us feel loyal. Heskill, he . . . he would force us to work all day and watch them eat while we starved. And when they did feed us, it was nothing but scraps. So no. No, we do not have any feelings for them people."

  Looking to Winston, Emma said, "Have them finish up the graves and give them something to eat."

  "You taking us in?" Marty asked, amazed. "For real?"

  "Looks that way."

  ***

  The next few hours went by slowly; so slowly that Emma's anxiety was pushed beyond its normal level of craziness. She tried easing the stress by keeping her distance from Tom's aggravated aura, and kept herself busy by resuming the girls' fishing trip. Sadly, their cheers from snagging a fish failed to have the effect she'd prayed it would.

  "What's wrong, Miss Emma?" Claire asked.

  "I'm worried it may not be him."

  "The more you sit there worrying about it," Jane said, "the more likely it is that it won't be. And it's going to be him." She paused, reeling her line in. "I know it. It has to be."

  "We'll know for sure in a little while," Emma replied, glancing toward an imaginary watch on her wrist. "That is, if Reed keeps his word."

  Lizzie chimed in. "He will. He's nice."

  "And trustworthy," Jane added.

  "How would you know? Did you speak to him?"

  "No, he just seemed like a likeable, trustworthy guy. And cute, too."

  "Easy," Emma said. "He's a grown-ass man."

  As their girlish giggles filled the air, so did the shuffles of someone approaching from behind. Wheeling about, the four of them stared Maddox down as he clutched at his side from exhaustion once again.

  "Heeey," Maddox said. "He's . . . he's back."

  "Does he have Griffin?"

  Shaking his head, Maddox straightened himself back up.

  "No, cousin. It's just him."

  "Did he say anything pertaining to why he's alone?"

  "No. He wants to speak with you."

  "Where's he now?"

  "Tom's got him held up at the cabin."

  "My cabin?"

  "Yeah."

  "Just them two? Them two together?" Taking his nod as confirmation, she said, "Hell, I better hurry then."

  "Good idea."

  "You stay here with the girls," she said. "And I'm gonna see why he was foolish enough to return empty-handed. Again."

  Emma left them behind, and began her journey toward what she was sure to be a heartbreaking disaster of epic proportions. Unfortunately, the time it took to reach her destination wasn't enough to prepare her for the debilitating news to come.

  Emma entered through the back barrier, and turned the corner of the trail, where she was able to make out the form of Reed's horse stationed outside of her home. He had tied Brute's reins to the porch railing to prevent him from wandering off. As she approached his side, Brute looked back at her and shook his mane.

  Because of her vast imagination, first Emma imagined him neighing and then shouting with glee, "Hey there! Long time, no see!"

  As she glided her fingers down his neck, Brute tilted his head toward the cabin as if commanding her to enter.

  "I'm not ready to hear it," she whispered. "I don't want to hear it."

  After climbing the steps, Emma grasped the knob of the door and prayed for the strength to overcome the heartache she was sure waited for her on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and reluctantly pushed herself through. Everything was silent as she found Tom and Reed sitting on opposite sides of the couch. Like children, they seemed to be refusing to look the other's way. It wasn't until Emma came into the hallway that their stubborn stances were broken.

  Standing to his feet, Reed fumbled with his hat and cleared his throat.

  "Can I talk to you?" he asked. "Alone?"

  As she looked to Tom to see his reaction, he bit his lip and brushed past her, grumbling,

  "I'll be outside."

  Alone, as he'd requested, Reed resumed sitting on the couch. Shifting in his seat, he looked to the carpet.

  "He's alive. But they wouldn't give him to me," he said.

  "Why didn't you just take him?"

  "I couldn't. Not without force."

  "But—"

  "I can't hurt them, Emma," he argued with a quivering lip. "I'm not my dad." Trying to hide his sudden wave of emotions, Reed ran his fingers through his hair. "And I still have to live with those people."

  In an attempt to ease his mind, Emma grasped his knee, and said, "You and Aiden can stay here."

  "No . . . no, I can't."

  "Why not?"

  "Your man," he replied. "He knows somethin' you don't."

  As she looked at him and he looked at her, there wasn't a need for further explanation. The look in his eyes expressed what words simply could not convey.

  "I'm with him, Reed. I know you're hurting. And I guess now in more ways than one. I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. That's the last thing I want—for you to be sorry," he said, covering her hand with his. "You found someone. I
just wish I would've had the sense to leave that place sooner. Maybe . . . maybe if I had . . ." He trailed off, meeting her gaze. "If I had, then maybe I would've found you first. And you'd be mine."

  Caught off guard, Emma slipped her hand out from under his and cut her eyes to the floor.

  "It's funny," she said. "The world had to shut down before I could become appealing to the opposite sex."

  "Nah, back then, intimidatin' women like you scared us is all. But now we need y'all's help to survive." Grinning, he winked. "Among other things."

  Embarrassed by his comment, Emma's cheeks flushed. Agitated, she shifted in her seat when memories of Roland breathing down her neck halted her thought process. Suddenly, a vision of his body on top of hers clouded her brain. Get out of my head, she thought. Get out. Get out. Get out.

  Cringing at the memory, she whispered, "I can't think about those things right now."

  "Wait," he said. "Were you? I should've nev—"

  "It didn't come to that. But never mind what happened to me," she interrupted. "By now you must know I'll go through the worst kind of hell to get him back."

  "I know that. I know."

  Patting his hand, Emma rose to her feet, and stated, "It's too late in the day to send you home."

  "Where are you gonna put me?"

  "This couch doesn't look like much." She paused, pressing down on the cushions. "But it's pretty comfortable. Oh, hey," she said, taking a framed picture from the wall. It was of her and Griffin as children making mud pies in their parents' driveway. "Is this him?"

  Looking closely, Reed tilted his head, and replied, "Can't say for sure. You got any older pictures of him?"

  "No." She sighed, hanging the picture back up. "Brother wasn't a big fan of taking pictures. Made him sick to see people taking selfies."

  "Sounds like me and your brother would get along."

  Once she and Reed had finished conversing, Emma allowed Tom to rejoin them from outside. As he stepped over the threshold, his face was contorted in a manner that suggested he was trying to tame the beast restrained inside of him.

  "Now it's my turn," he said.

  Before Emma could say a word, Tom grabbed her by the arm and dragged her from her lair. He pushed Emma outside, and slammed the door behind him. Tom locked the dead bolt, sending Emma straight into panic mode.

  "No!" she screamed, pounding on the door. "Don't fight! I mean it!"

  She glanced back at Brute, but he avoided her gaze as if trying to tell her he didn't want any trouble. Emma strode toward the nearest window, and peeked through the space between the crumpled blinds. They stood face-to-face. Their voices were muffled, but she was able to make out what was being said.

  "I don't like the connection she has with you," Tom said.

  "You shouldn't. If our roles were reversed, I'd want you as far away as possible. Hell, I'd probably want you dead. But I'm tellin' you, man," he said, motioning toward her shadow at the blinds, "that woman is loyal to you. You and no one else."

  "I know she is. I trust her." Shaking his head, Tom cut his eyes toward the window she hid behind. "But I'm having a hard time trusting you. And since she's listening to every word I'm saying, I guess I'm going to have to try harder," he said, offering his hand.

  Sighing with relief, Emma moved from the window and wiped a couple of beads of sweat from her forehead.

  "I think it's okay." She exhaled loudly, locking eyes with Brute. "Whew."

  Exiting the house, Reed dipped his hat in Emma's direction and promptly mounted his horse. She stared after him until Tom broke the silence.

  "He's going to help them boys finish up the graves."

  "They bury his kin yet?"

  "Not yet. I'm sure he wants to say goodbye."

  "Tom, I—"

  "I know. I know. What time are we leaving?"

  "Tomorrow morning."

  "Figured as much."

  "Are you mad?"

  "Just give me a little time to feel better about it."

  "I don't need a big ol' grouch riding beside me."

  "Now that depends. Where's he sleeping tonight?"

  "On the couch."

  "Our couch?"

  "Is that a problem?"

  "Hell yes, that's a problem! I don't want that sumbitch sleeping on our couch."

  "You forget. It was my couch before it was ours."

  "I, bu—"

  "It's just for one night," she said. "Goodness gracious."

  Shortly after their argument, the girls came toting their catches of the day, with Maddox following close behind. They were proud, of course, and for good reason. It was the first time they'd contributed food to Back Wood. Their fish would become a glorified addition to the vegetables Mrs. Maples and Cooper usually steamed.

  After their new additions had finished with the graves, Winston escorted them to the dance hall for supper. By the time they sat down, Reed arrived sporting puffy and reddened eyes. It was clear he'd been crying. Since he was Emma's guest, she took the liberty of making his plate. No one verbally objected to this, but she sensed the hateful comments just lingering at the tips of their tongues.

  Tom chose to be the bigger man, and was gracious enough to invite Reed to sit with them. They ate in uncomfortable silence, complete with awkward stares, until the girls' fascination with their guest seemed to get the best of them. Their eagerness to learn more about the cowboy sitting at their table seemed to multiply Tom's resentment toward Reed's presence.

  Looking him over, Claire blurted out, "You have a big nose."

  "Claire!" Emma exclaimed, nearly choking on her food. "It fits his face very well," she said, trying to defuse the inappropriateness of Claire's statement. This comment was followed by a low growl coming from the man sitting next to her. Cutting her eyes toward Tom, Emma squeaked, "Sorry," before he could say a word.

  Smiling, Reed chuckled. "It is massive, ain't it?"

  Jane chimed in. "I like your hat."

  Reed dipped his hat charmingly, and donned a thicker Southern drawl. "Why, thank you, ma'am."

  "Where do you come from?" Lizzie asked, looking him up and down.

  "Nowhere special."

  Jane asked, "You have a big place?"

  "Not too big."

  "How come?" Claire asked, playing with her food.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Reed took another bite.

  "My folks weren't too bright, I guess," he replied.

  Seemingly made miserable by the affection they held toward this new stranger, Tom busied himself with obnoxiously chewing his food.

  "No, they ain't," he muttered under his breath.

  Emma elbowed his shoulder, and tried easing the tension by putting on a big smile—but it only worsened the situation.

  "Sorry," she said. "It seems one of us is in a bad mood."

  Once they finished eating, Emma rose from the table to begin the cleanup process. Like a gentleman, Reed began to rise as well, but before he could do so completely, Tom bolted from his seat and began gathering the dirty dishes.

  "Easy, now," Emma whispered beside him. "Easy. There's no contest going on here. You're the only man for me."

  "You sure about that?"

  "Ask me that again," she said, "and you sure as hell won't be."

  Donning a pitiful expression, Tom hunched his shoulders.

  "Then I won't say it again," he replied.

  After the tension had dissipated and the tabletops had been cleared, Emma kissed the tops of each of the girls' heads before sending them off with Shirley.

  "G'night!" she shouted after them. "Love y'all!"

  Every neighbor was aware of the nightly duties expected of them. A rotation between each household had been set up so everyone could take turns guarding the barrier that protected them from outsiders. Emma parted ways from the group preparing themselves for the long night ahead, and she, Tom, and Reed began trekking toward her lonely cabin on the hill.

  Their guest remained silent as they arrived at the bottom of
the porch steps. Before entering, Reed removed his hat and patted down the frizzy hair that had formed at the back of his head. Like a good host, Emma ushered him inside and provided him with a blanket from the cupboard and a spare pillow for comfort. Tom didn't hesitate to retreat to the bedroom to impatiently await Emma's presence.

  Motioning toward the couch, she whispered, "Make yourself comfortable."

  "Thank you. I'm not causin' you any trouble, am I?" he asked as she began to turn away from him.

  "What? Between him and me?"

  "Yeah."

  "Yes." She sighed. "But I assume you're happy about that?"

  "Quite."

  "Uh-huh." She paused, narrowing her eyes at him. "Get some sleep."

  After Emma joined Tom in the bedroom, where he lay shirtless with only a bedsheet to cover him, he said, "Lock the door behind you."

  "Really? You didn't think I was gonna lock the door?"

  Shrugging, Tom seemed to struggle to find a valid response.

  "I don't know what you'd do!" he blurted out.

  Ignoring his outburst, Emma changed into her usual sleepwear. Once she was fully clothed, she stood at the opposite side of the bed and waited for him to meet her gaze.

  "Ahem, may I join you, your highness?" she asked.

  Unable to withstand her charm, he patted the mattress, and replied, "Sure you can, my queen."

  Emma crawled into bed, and joined him under the covers.

  "What if it's not him?"

  "I need it to be him." She said, gliding her hand over his abs under the sheet. "Momma needs it to be him."

  "Baby, I know y'all do. But—"

  "I need something good to come out of all this mess."

  Pressing his lips to her head, he whispered, "But, darling, something good did come out of it."

  "Oh, Lord. I'm such an asshole. But," she said, "you know what I mean, right?"

  "I know," he grumbled, rising from the sheets. "I know."

  It wasn't until Tom leaned toward the nightstand to blow out the flame of the candle that she realized just how exhausted she was. As the lids of her eyes grew heavier, she found herself drifting to sleep.

  During the hours Emma was able to sleep, her dreams were filled with disturbing images of Griffin's fate. Emma believed the visions had only one goal: to feed the relentless monster named "doubt" currently residing in her chest. To Emma, doubt that severe meant one thing: it couldn't be him.