I stare out the window as we drive down a winding road through the foothills that leads us deeper into the valley. Neither of us has spoken for a while. We pass into a thickening forest of pine trees, and I decide to break the silence. “I’m not sure why, but I didn’t peg him for an outdoorsy fellow.”
“He’s lived out here since my father apprenticed under him, before he gave up Office.”
“Do you really think he lost the Gift?”
“No one ever said it for sure, but I think so. My dad hinted at it.” Reason steers the truck down a narrow driveway that switch-backs to the left. Soon we pass through a concrete walled entrance with no gate.
The house looms ahead of us, a brick home with large windows across the front. Other than a small gazebo, it looks pretty modest. The closed garage and absence of vehicles give the appearance that no one’s home.
But I think I see a curtain move just as Reason shifts into park and throws open his door. The suggestion of a pale hand rests where the swag of fabric bends in an unnatural curve, and I continue to watch the window, not taking my eyes off it until Reason stands waiting at my open car door. I climb out, but when I look up again, the curtain has returned to normal position. Someone is definitely in there.
I have a strong sense someone watches us as we walk toward the front door. But Reason doesn’t seem to notice. His hand rests in the small of my back as we make our way up the brick lined walkway. Despite myself, I move in closer to him.
The barren covered porch contains nothing except a pair of mud-crusted work boots with thick rubber soles. I have a hard time imagining Cassius wearing these. He seems much too fragile and proper for manual labor.
Reason rings the bell, and a muffled chime sing-songs inside. We look at each other and smile. I imagine I see him draw himself up straighter, taller. Silence. Finally, Reason reaches to ring the bell again, just as something brushes against the door and a series of sniffing sounds emits from the bottom of the threshold. A bolt unlocks, a chain slides, another bolt turns, and then a third.
The door opens with a tiny crack.
“Back up Scarlett. Back. Rhett—go.” I recognize Cassius’ voice right away.
I steal a quick glance at Reason. He lifts an eyebrow at me and looks back toward the door with a smirk on his face.
The door swings farther open. Cassius stands taller than I remembered. He squints at us as he tightens the sash of his red robe. I look down. He wears black corduroy slippers and white socks that come halfway up his pale, skinny calves.
Two gray snouts sniff at the air on either side of his legs: small teacup poodles. I wouldn’t have guessed him to be a poodle guy, either.
“Reason. I would have expected you to be busy packing today. To what do I owe this honor?”
Reason doesn’t flinch. “Alice.”
Cassius’ mouth draws up like a raisin, then instantly relaxes again. “I suppose you’d like to come in.” He says flatly.
He doesn’t wait for confirmation as he steps back, allowing us to enter.
Once he’s closed the door behind, he turns without looking at either of us and leads us down a short hallway and into a library. Immediately, I notice the heat. It must be 80 degrees in here. Rhett and Scarlett pant as they follow beside him.
Old books and mounted animal heads cover the walls. Immediately I identify a moose, two mule deer, and an elk. A snarling fox stands on top of one side of the “L” shaped desk. The front-facing side contains nothing but a fossilized lizard paperweight and an open book. A magnifying glass lies over the open pages, marking his place.
Cassius seats himself behind the desk and motions toward the two leather chairs in front of it. The juxtaposition of his private-wear, dead animals, and dusty library collection gives me an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia.
Our bottoms make unpleasant noises as we situate ourselves in the leather. I glance down, wondering if they’re made of vinyl or they’ve just never seen many visitors. The poodles sniff around our shoes as Cassius grumbles, “Let’s get on with it.”
Reason looks like a grown-up in a child’s chair, ready for Cassius to serve him a tiny cup of tea and some imaginary scones. Cassius keeps his eyes on Reason as though a silent standoff transpires between them. It occurs to me, finally, that Cassius hasn’t acknowledged me at all since we got here.
Reason clears his throat and begins. “I’d like you to explain to me why Brother DeMurio's promise to Adelaide hasn’t been fulfilled.”
Cassius regards him down the length of his nose. “What promise is that?”
“To offer her the protection, the support of the Society.”
“That is exactly what I’ve done.”
“See, that’s just it. I don’t believe you have.” Reason’s voice has a sharp edge to it.
“Brother DeMurio and I did not agree on how to provide that for her. I’ve acted in her best interest by encouraging her to pursue a normal life, outside the Society.”
“You’ve gone against your predecessor. Where is the letter, Cassius?”
“What letter?”
“The one that’s been stolen from Erin’s home.”
Cassius shifts in his chair. “If you mean the letter from Brother DeMurio to Adelaide, I received it just yesterday in the mail, sent it a few days ago—before Ms. Sinclair’s unfortunate incident. I had no involvement whatsoever in Brice’s obtainment of it.”
“Unfortunate incident?” Reason repeats as he spreads his palms on his knees and takes a deep breath. He lets it out in a slow exhale before he continues. “We’d like the letter back.”
“I’m sorry, but I can't do that. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Cassius eyes him coolly.
Reason ignores it. “What would the Council say if they knew you deleted Erin’s membership file?”
“I don't really care what the Council would say. She’s my Granddaughter—my personal concern.”
My head snaps up. Is he suggesting he has my interests at heart? I want to laugh, but I force myself not to.
“I thought as much, Cassius. I have known you for a long time. I cannot imagine you’d do this simply for the sake of your own bitterness.” He pauses for emphasis. “But you are forcing your will onto another. Could this be the same tendency that caused you to lose the Gift?”
The air in the room instantly thickens—enough to be sliceable. The muscles and tendons in Cassius’ jaw clench. Reason leans forward as though preparing for battle. I almost expect the air to crackle between them.
Cassius speaks in a slow, measured tone. “My wife did not wish for her descendants to be constrained by the Society. As long as I live, I will honor that wish.”
So that’s it. He never quit loving his wife.
“Enough!” Reason slams his fist on the desk, causing a tremor strong enough to tip the fossil over and slide the magnifying glass off the book. The pages rise together, swallowing the place-mark. “You’d reject the wishes of your own child and your grandchild for the ideals of a woman who can’t see what’s happening now. Do you really think she’d have wanted her daughter to die without her living father by her side? You’ve made yourself a miserable person. Do you do it for honor or regret?”
Cassius leans forward. “Your father would be ashamed of your disrespect.”
“No, Cassius, my father would agree. He pitied you. I do not. Your honor rests in the man you choose to be today. What will the man of today do that is honorable? Will he forgive himself or continue to punish everyone around him for his mistakes?”
Now it’s Cassius turn to bellow. “Don’t talk to me about my mistakes or your father’s pity. You have no idea how my life has been without her! And sitting before me now, is a woman who bears her face. If she could speak to me from the grave, she does so right now—in this situation. Before me I see the same decision I made then.”
“You’re terrified of thinking you both could have made different choices. That is your only stake in this.” Reason’s counten
ance looks fierce. “Where is your honor, Thomas Cassius? Where’s your faith now?”
“I’ll tell you where my honor is. My honor is beside you. I’ve not loved my descendants from afar and done without my family so that you could come along and make it all for nothing!”
Reason relaxes now. He leans back in his chair, observing Cassius, who still sits erect in his seat with veins bulging in his temples. “Thirty years ago two men walked into the plains of Africa on a mission of mercy and diplomacy. They came face to face with a tiger in an abandoned village. She and her cub fed on the bodies of the dead. One man followed behind the first. He could have run away, but he did not. Instead, he ran forward just as the tiger leapt to attack. He stepped in front of his apprentice and speared the animal with his walking stick. In memory of your courage, my father brought the lion cub home and tamed it. That was your honor. Today, Alice has returned and reminded me again your willingness to sacrifice, Brother. Now you have the chance to make another: let go of the past. That will be your honor today.”
Cassius does not speak. His face looks like a granite stone, but I begin to notice his eyes reddening. He reaches up his hand and pushes away the book on the desk in front of him. When he draws back his hand, I see it tremble.
“I can’t undo it now, Reason, and I’ve destroyed the letter. There are no other files concerning membership. DeMurio had no right to meddle in personal matters against my wishes. And even if I tried to change it now, it couldn’t be done without substantial evidence to support the revocation of your Office and the Gift.”
Reason clamps his hands down over his knees. “You had no right to meddle in the personal matters of Adelaide and Erin Sinclair. If bloodline creates such privileges for you, you should have no problem obliging Erin’s entitlement to the rights of hers.”
“It’s too late.” Cassius looks at the desk.
“You knew Amendment 16 did not apply to us. What you’ve done is enough to have you removed from the Council. Is this what you protect now?”
“Reason, I’m too old to care about such things.”
“Then you’ll at least care about the Society.”
Cassius narrows his eyes. “Of course I care about the Society.”
“You’re right. You can’t undo it. But it’s not your actions I refer to, it’s the Gift. In your bitterness, you have done the very thing that has freed the Gift—the truth—from the hands of corruption.”
“Get on with it MacCloud. I’m not in the mood for games.”
“You haven't asked how I came to have Alice.”
“Well, surely you do not mean she’s literally returned. You meant metaphorically.”
“No, I meant literally.”
Cassius stands now, a slow affair that’s much less impressive than when Reason does it. “I’m tired, Reason. Desperation does not become you. I would like to rest a while, so please, leave now.”
“I offer you the chance to keep the Society in tact as it has existed for over two thousand years and you want a nap?” Reason laughs, but his face is not smiling. “If I have to carry out my work without the Society, I will do so. While you decide how to protect something you do not own in a Society that Christmas does not need. But the loss of everyone’s livelihood and history will be of your own making. It’s your choice. I told you from the start I’ll do what I believe is right. I meant it.” Reason shoves his chair back and stands.
The poodles congregate at his feet, seeking his affection. I stand too, just as Cassius begins chastising them. “Scarlett—Rhett, come.”
His poodles ignore him. Reason gives them each a pat and then takes my hand. We step over them and see ourselves out.
Cassius calls from behind us. “You don’t own the Gift, either. You should be careful what you threaten, lest you find yourself excommunicated and deposited on your rear end without the Society to provide for you.”
He does not sound nearly as sure of himself as he did earlier, though. Not even his dogs stand loyal beside him. They follow us to the door wagging their tales and frolicking at Reason’s feet, vying for the glow of his attention. He gives them one last scratch before he closes the door.
Cassius voice bellows through the hall. “Rhett, Scarlett, come here this instant.”
Reason takes my hand and shrugs as he says, “Well, I’d say that solidified pretty well, don’t you think?”
“It solidified all right.” I squeeze his hand, hoping the battle lines he’s drawn won’t be necessary. But in the end, I believe Reason knows what he’s doing.
Chapter 28
IT’S DUSK WHEN REASON’S MEN file into the dining room for the evening meal. He’s picked this time, just before their meal, to lay out the battle plans. Dex places a kettle of stew in the center of the table. Maybe Reason hopes to say what he needs to say before the bleariness of full bellies loosens their attention spans.
Once everyone’s taken their seats, he begins. “Tomorrow we’ll begin organizing the lists. You’ll probably find more added over the next few days. It’s important to not make any changes or notations, no matter what you see on it. I expect, in a few days, we’ll see the Society reverse its position. Until then, we’ll continue preparing the deer for Christmas Eve. They need their drills and exercises. The gift bags will need to be inspected. All equipment repairs need to happen now.”
A murmur moves around the table. A man with a ponytail speaks up. “What if the Council doesn’t reverse anything? What if the tunnels stay closed? How will there be anything in the bags on the Eve? What will we do then? Re-gift whatever is under the tree with a Sharpie?”
A few men snicker. Even Reason works to control the smile that nudges at the corners of his mouth. “No, Calvin. We won't be re-gifting. We’ll deliver Christmas on the Eve, with or without the Society’s approval.”
A few men at the far end of table guffaw. Another shakes his head and buries his face in his hands. Poor Reason. A few days ago, they put loyalty above everything. Tonight they mock him. When I look at him, I catch the flash of hurt that passes through his eyes.
The mumblings continue and grow louder until finally Dex shouts. “Knock it off, all of you.” His kind face has always had a certain kind of childishness to it, even when he means to be tough. Tonight I see a new firmness in it. “If the Boss says we’ll deliver on the Eve, then that’s what we’ll do.”
Reason doesn’t flinch, despite the obvious disrespect from his men. He gives me a look and a nod toward the door. Understanding what he means, I stand together with him.
A fragment of conversation reaches me. “It's because of Alice.”
“Who’s Alice?”
“Shhhh. The tiger, you idiot.”
I know Reason must hear, but he ignores it. “We’ll prepare for the Eve. I’ve never asked this much trust of you. But on my honor, I promise you I mean what I’ve said. Work begins tomorrow morning.”
We turn and leave behind the group of doubting ranch hands. As we near the door their voices have grown so loud, it makes me wince. I don't want their words to sting the man I love. I walk faster.
He pulls back gently on my hand. “I’m okay. I know they’ll be there—all but four. That's enough for me.”
I wake up the next morning in Reason’s guest room again, but this time to the smell of bacon frying instead of the roar of a tiger. My stomach grumbles as I inhale the delicious aroma, so I grab my change of clothes and start dressing.
I find Reason in the kitchen buttering toast beside two steaming plates of scrambled eggs and bacon.
“Oh, I adore you.” I grin and wrap my arms around him.
He picks me up off my feet and hugs me to him, planting a warm kiss just beneath my right ear. “See, I knew the bacon-smell would get you.”
“Mmm, you’re clever.” I grab a piece of it and take bite, relishing the perfectly fried texture—not too crisp, not too soft. “And practiced. Should I be concerned here? Perhaps I’m only one of a parade of women you’ve been perfecting your b
acon frying on.”
He grins as he dishes my plate. “Nope. You’re the only girl I’ve ever made bacon for.”
Soon, I’m too busy enjoying his cooking to even care about sitting down, much less teasing him about his dating history. We eat standing at the kitchen counter, chitchatting about Alice, the cubs, and Klaus’ relentless snoring. Once we’ve cleaned our dishes and taken our showers, we head over to the Sloon with Klaus tagging along.
As soon as we arrive, Dex emerges from the storage building, hauling sacks. “Morning, Boss. Morning, Ms. Erin.” He smiles with such kindness it makes me want to kiss his leathery cheek. Instead, I give a smile and say, “Morning.”
“Good morning, Dex. How’s morale today?” Reason glances around.
“It’s good, Boss. Real good. Now that Schaefer, Thomas, Jude, and Alex are gone. They left last night. The rest of the crew looks good. It’s actually feeling like Christmas around here.”
They’ll be here…all but four.
A door suddenly bursts opens, and two men step out of the Sloon. They sing together, taking turns with the verses from It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas as they wander into the corral and disappear inside the stables.
Dex watches them with a smile. “They’re bathing the reindeer. Somebody had the idea to try that peppermint shampoo on ’em.”
Reason looks at me and laughs, “Want to go watch?”
“Of course, I do.” I can’t imagine passing up the opportunity to see a reindeer bath.
We say goodbye to Dex and head for the stables. Inside, I immediately see one of the deer standing in a large concrete stall equipped with a floor drain. Above him, a shower head with a handheld sprayer waits on standby, spewing out a fine mist of water. Three bottles of shampoo sit on a recessed shelf. One man holds the fourth bottle up to the reindeer’s nose, while a second tries to keep the animal steady.
“There you go, buddy, take a whiff o’ that. All the other reindeer are using this stuff. Whadoya think?” He squeezes the bottle to release a puff of peppermint fragrance into its nostril.
The Santa Society Page 20
