Soft Wild Ache (Crown Creek)

by Theresa Leigh

  "Rebecca?"

  She looked up from her boots and sneered. Her face was bright red with exertion and heat.

  "Did you... walk here?" The Chosen compound was—

  "Seven miles," she finished for me. And then sat down at the edge of my porch and hiked up her skirts. Then looked at me and remembered I was "secular" now and yanked them back down again.

  I stared at her. The dissonance of having my sister, here, in my space, left me so disoriented that I fell back onto years of training. "Can I get you something to drink?" I asked robotically.

  Rebecca looked like she wanted to decline but thought better of it. "Yes," she said, equally robotically. Then, "Thank you."

  I nodded and turned back to go into the house. I knew better than to invite her in. She wouldn't come. I ran some water from the tap and then just paused, staring out the window over the sink out to the creek. Emotions - anger, confusion, a desperate loneliness, a strange hopefulness - all competed for dominance, clawing over one another to be the first to rise to the surface. Leaving me feeling nothing at all. Numbness made my limbs heavy and even the glass of water seemed to weigh too much. I had to use both hands to carry it back out onto the porch.

  My sister took it without saying anything and drank it down. Then she set the glass carefully at the edge of the porch and took a deep breath. She was staring so hard at one place in my driveway that I turned to look at it too. There was nothing there.

  The silence stretched out for so long that my curiosity got the better of me. "I didn't know you knew where I was living." Why was I laughing?

  "Everyone knows." She stared harder at that point in the driveway and I realized with a start that she was looking at it so she wouldn't have to look at me.

  Anger finally rose to the surface, pushing down the other emotions and taking control. I jumped down off the porch and moved right into her line of sight.

  "Everyone knows?" I repeated. "Seriously? Everyone knows, but I've been left to fend for myself for two years now? Completely alone?"

  "You don't make it easy!" Rebecca shouted. She forgot herself and glared at me, then reddened and looked down.

  I gaped at her. "I don't make it easy? What the fuck are you talking about?"

  I cursed to rattle her, and it worked. She jerked like I'd held a match to her foot and leaped from the porch to stand before me. "The way you carry on," she hissed. "With your secular friends and that... that... man you're carrying on with. In public."

  "What do you care?" I threw up my hands, and Rebecca flinched, which only made me angrier that she thought I'd ever hurt her. "You cut me off!"

  "You were to go out into the world and bring souls back to us! That was the mission the Elders charged you with!"

  "Oh please. They were trying to get rid of me. There was no mission! That's bullshit and you know it!"

  Rebecca reddened. She leaned in close enough that I could see the faint lines around her eyes. They hadn't been there two years ago. When I last saw her this close. "There was a mission and you failed," she hissed, enunciating each word like a stab to my heart. "And I don't care what you do with your life, I can only pray for your soul." The corner of her lip curled in disgust. Then twitched as her eyes filled with tears. "But what you're doing is ruining the lives of your family. Don't you care about that at all?"

  I folded my arms, closing myself off to her words, but not quickly enough. "How the fuck do you figure?" I snarled through the wrenching pain in my chest.

  "You're Fallen."

  I inhaled sharply and took a step back. "I am not," I whispered in a high, reedy voice I didn't recognize as my own. "I was sent away, I never left on my—"

  "The Elders have declared you Fallen and you know what that means."

  "No."

  Rebecca shook her head. "We're shunned. Mom risked everything to get you medical treatment." Her voice broke. "You owe her. You owe all of us. Because now that you're Fallen, none of the kids will play with Lydia and she cries every night. None of the women will bake with Mother or help with the washing. None of the men will consider me." She blinked hard and looked away and I had to resist the urge to reach out to her, to comfort my sister whose main goal in life was to be a wife and a mother. "Father was shamed at last service," she continued once she'd collected herself. "It was the smallest thing, something that would have been overlooked before you started carrying on this way. But because of you, he was called up."

  "No." My hand was over my mouth. I shut my eyes as tight as I could, but I could still see it, my proud father, the grandnephew of the prophet, called before the congregation and flogged... I shook my head. It was too horrible to even consider.

  But Rebecca nodded. "Yes. At Meeting yesterday. And I knew..." She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  I looked down in shock when I saw her hands slip over mine. My sister squeezed my hand, just like she'd always done. Whenever we'd shared a secret or made a pact. I blinked, but the tears fell anyway. It had been so long. She glanced up at my face and I found myself looking into eyes the same shade of brown as mine. "You belong with us, Rachel."

  I looked down and away. Rebecca let go of my hand and stepped back. "You know that Joel's birthday is coming up."

  I blinked up at her. There had always been talk of my older brother stepping in as spiritual leader. Once he was of age. "I didn't forget. He's going to be twenty-five finally."

  Rebecca shook her head and glared at me like she was trying to reduce me to ashes. "How can the Chosen be led by a spiritual leader whose own sister has Fallen?"

  I gasped. "They can't. No. Joel's been groomed for that since he was a child."

  "He has a challenger now." She blinked slowly. "Because of you."

  I tried to take a breath, but panic was stealing it away. Rebecca lunged forward, grabbing me by the shoulders. "You belong with us," she repeated. And then turned and started back up the driveway without a word.

  As she trudged away, I wanted to call out to her. To yell that I wasn't a Chosen woman anymore. I was Beau's woman.

  But the words tripped on my tongue. I wanted a future with Beau. He was a good man, he'd stay for a while even in spite of my infertility. But eventually, there would be someone else. Someone who could have his babies and give him everything he ever wanted.

  "Rebecca!" I shouted.

  My sister stopped and turned, those heavy skirts flowing around her ankles like currents in the water. Did I want to go with her? It would be so easy. There was no future for me out here. I'd been discarded by the Chosen. But that had already happened, and I had survived.

  If Beau discarded me, I wasn't sure I'd make it.

  I needed to think. "Here," I called to my sister. "At least let me give you bus fare."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Beau

  "You there?" Jonah yelled, way too loudly. Finn grumbled and clapped his hands over his ears.

  The connection fizzed and crackled and then suddenly Gabe's voice blared through the speaker. "—talking about this, I say fuck yeah!" he yelled as loud as if he were right there in the room with us.

  Which he would be in twenty-four hours.

  Shooting had wrapped early for his show. He and Everly would be flying home soon and meet us in New York City.

  Us. All of us.

  I looked around at the kitchen table. Jonah, Finn, Claire, and I had all sat down in our normal spots. Even though it would have made more sense for us to crowd around the laptop at the head of the table, we'd all instinctually gravitated to the spots where we'd sat as kids.

  We were almost all back together again. This morning with Rachel had been weird, but I knew I'd have time to deal with that tonight at the open mic. Right now, I was too caught up in the excitement of my siblings as we all shouted into the computer.

  "Do you even remember how to play?" Finn teased Gabe. "You've been off doing this daredevil bullshit for so long."

  "I'm fucking fine," my hotheaded older brother growled. "Do you rem
ember how to play bass? Wait, do hermits even play bass?"

  Claire laughed, but Finn remained serene. "You're just jealous."

  Jonah looked at Gabe and somehow even with the lag time, they still managed to shake their heads no in perfect unison.

  "Can we focus, please!" Claire clapped her hands together like a schoolteacher and Jonah snapped to attention. Probably because his fiancée was a schoolteacher. "Can we all take a look at the itineraries?" She tapped the printouts she'd put out on the table and we'd all ignored. "I have a few questions about Day 2."

  I looked over at Finn who rolled his eyes. "I'm going to need to move even deeper into the woods after all of this," he complained. I grinned at him. He still sounded gloomy as hell, but I could tell he was excited. He talked when he was excited, and he was asking questions and giving out shit left and right.

  I leaned back in my chair. That was good. The whole reason I'd started planning this reunion was for Finn and it was working. Sure, I'd have to go to New York for a few days, but maybe Rachel might want to come with me?

  I tapped my fingers on the table as Jonah and Claire jockeyed for who would be the point of contact with the studio down in New Jersey and let my mind wander back to this morning. If I wanted her to come with me, I was definitely going to have to apologize for my reaction. I steepled my fingers and pressed them to my lips as plans whirled around the table. I'd just been surprised. Shocked, even. I hadn't meant to be distant, but now that I sat here and thought about it, I realized I'd fucked up. She probably thought her inability to have kids would be a problem.

  It wasn't. I loved her. We'd figure something out.

  Maybe we'd figure it out when I took her to New York with me.

  "So that's it, then?" Claire looked startled. "Is this seriously happening?"

  "It looks like a good plan to me," came Gabe's garbled voice.

  Jonah cleared his throat and coughed. "It's going to be good to be on stage with you guys again," he said, looking down at his hands.

  "Uh oh, he's getting sappy!" Claire crowed. She leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. "Awww, I'm telling Ruby you're gonna cry!"

  "Shut up," Jonah grumbled even as Finn leaped from his chair and tackled him from the other side. "Group hug!"

  "Ha!" I leaped up and belly-flopped on top of Finn, sending Jonah's chair toppling over to the side. "Oh my God, get off!" Claire's muffled voice begged from the bottom of the pile.

  "Hey!" Gabe yelled. "What the fuck just happened? Where did you all go?"

  Finn turned and grinned at me and I nodded. Then I reached onto the table. "Group hug!" I shouted and hugged the laptop.

  "What the fuck?" Gabe's voice was muffled and tinny against my chest.

  "Gabe! Help!" my sister choked.

  Gabe laughed. I put the laptop back up on the table, then stepped over the pile of bodies. "One, two, three!" I grabbed Claire's wrists and hauled her out from under the pile.

  "I think you assholes punctured a lung," she groaned, rubbing her side. Finn immediately started giving her shit about being a delicate flower, so she sucker punched him in the stomach. Jonah laughed and then held up his hands to ward them both off when they turned on him, reminding them that he was the singer, and to watch the throat. Gabe was shouting encouragement from the laptop, telling Claire to go for Jonah's 'stupid hair.'

  I sagged against the wall I was laughing so hard. This was so normal to me. My big, crazy family.

  How could I not want one of my own?

  I loved her. I needed to tell her that and then we'd go from there.

  Right before I stood up and went to save Jonah from being poked to death, I resolved to fix this with Rachel. Tonight.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Beau

  There were only a few scattered people at the Crown that night. A far cry from the tens of thousands who used to cram into the stadiums to hear the King Brothers play.

  But this was fine. They weren't here to listen to me play. They were here to listen to Rachel sing. I was here to listen to Rachel sing. To remind her that even though I had fucked up royally this morning, I was still here for her. And after tonight was over, I would confess that I loved her and ask her what kind of future we could have together.

  I was strangely nervous. Maybe it was Rachel's nerves rubbing off on me. The soft breeze that wafted in through the open door sent the papers tacked up on the community bulletin board to ruffling, which made her jump. It made me jump. I tried to laugh it off and reached out to rub her shoulder. "How are you?" I asked her for what felt like the millionth time.

  And for the millionth time, she just gave me that wan nod and the faint smile that barely even reached her eyes. She'd been quiet on the ride over and had gone even quieter once we'd reached the Crown.

  Nerves were a bitch. I tried to reassure her. "You have an amazing voice and we've practiced this song at least one hundred times. In fact," I teased her. "I'm almost sure I heard you singing it in your sleep the other night. So I know you know it. You don't have to worry about that."

  Her smile brightened for a millisecond but then faded again.

  "Okay, I get it." I patted her shoulder. "I'll shut up and leave you alone."

  I kept my promise and busied myself with helping Taylor with the speakers and microphones. My sister, there to see her prized student in her debut, bossed us both mightily, but when Taylor got grumpy, she finally rolled her eyes and found a seat in the front row. I was taping down one of the cables when I noticed the crowd starting to fill out, taking their seats in the semi-circle of folding chairs that surrounded the battered little raised platform that served as the stage.

  I quickly miked up my piano and nodded to Taylor. The last thing Rachel needed was a restless, antsy crowd the night of her big debut. We needed to make sure we started promptly.

  Taylor nodded back and went to the main mic. I quickly ducked behind him and made a beeline for Rachel, who had been sitting in the deep windowsill underneath the neon signs advertising Genesee beer. "Showtime!" I whispered, feeling that giddy spark in my veins again. I thought I had lost it after all those years of trudging from city to city and playing the same stale songs. But tonight, I was excited again.

  For her.

  I reached out and squeezed her hands with mine. "You're going to be awesome." I leaned in for a kiss.

  She shied back immediately and glared at me, her eyebrows knitted together. I pulled away and looked at her, feeling like she'd just slapped me in the face.

  She pressed her lips together and then gave me a smile that was more worrisome than the look of death she'd just given me. "Can you... can you give me some space, please?"

  Stung, I stepped back. Stage fright did weird things to people. It didn't mean it hurt any less, but I at least understood. I went over to the piano and sat down.

  "Thanks for coming out tonight!" Taylor said into the mic. You could only tell he was smiling because his eyes were crinkled because his mouth was completely covered by his enormous, man-of-the-woods beard. Which reminded me about how careful I'd been about trimming mine since things started getting serious with Rachel. Beards are great, but unobstructed kisses are even better. "We've got a new face with us this evening, which is awesome! Give it up for Rachel Walker!" He stepped back to join in the smattering of applause. I looked at Rachel and gestured for her to stand up and wave, but she was staring past the crowd with a ferocious look on her face. Her game face, maybe? "And"—Taylor went on when it became clear that Rachel was intent on ignoring everyone—"a very familiar face too. Give it up for Beau King of the King Brothers on piano!"

  I waved and pointed at each audience member in turn to make up for Rachel's distance. It was okay that she didn't know how to handle an audience, she wasn't used to it the way I was. She just had to sing, I could handle the rest of it. Claire was standing up, shrieking and hollering like we were the Beatles on Ed McMahon. "Thanks," I mouthed to my sister, then turned to see if Rachel was ready. I waved at her a
gain and nodded.

  She jerked like a puppet on a string, then lurched to the microphone like she was fighting a strong wind. Confused, I turned to the keys.

  We'd rehearsed far more than I needed. I played the first few notes of the Ed Sheeran song she'd chosen, the one she had sung to me that first time I heard her sing. It had a long intro, and as I built to the crescendo, I turned and nodded to her.

  She didn't move. There was a pause in the music. Her cue.

  "Go!" I mouthed.

  Rachel opened her mouth automatically.

  Nothing came out.

  Stage fright. It had to be stage fright. Claire leaned forward, her fingers pressed to her lips in concern. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Taylor shaking his head darkly.

  Okay. No big deal.

  I played around her cue, improvising some variations on the melody. "Four, three, two, one," I murmured, then looked up to nod at her next cue.

  Rachel wasn't even looking at me. She stood there, wide-eyed and panicked, staring out at the crowd.

  There was a cough and then a titter of nervous laughter. Rachel's head whipped around. "What are you staring at?" she demanded of the guy in the front row.

  I leaped up. In every show I'd ever played, we had one mantra. 'The show must go on.' No matter what happened, we were professionals and we kept our promises.

  My training kicked in like muscle memory. "Hey, sorry." Stepping in front of Rachel, I gave the guy a sheepish smile. "Nerves, right? Anyone else get stage fright?" I nodded hard, inviting them to nod with me. The show must go on. "Can you all give it up for my girl here? Round of applause for Rachel, right?" I clapped until they clapped along with me, then turned to grip Rachel's shoulders. "It's okay," I reassured her. "We can try again, okay?"

  She blinked and then nodded.