Nocturne

by Heather McKenzie

  I put a few in my pocket, along with the white painkiller caplets, and then roamed about the empty house. Family photos on the walls surrounded an ancient dining room table with half-eaten plates of food, and the crocheted lacy things covering the couches and tables in the living room were slightly mussed; there wouldn’t be a thing out of place if Mrs. Carlson was home. This house, filled with baked goods, homemade blankets, and gleaming white walls, had been left in a hurry.

  I put a velvet cushion back in its place, then stared out the living room window at the miles of ranch land. Vast and stunningly white. The elm tree, focal point of a winter scene, dropped piles of white snow to the ground. Beneath its branches was the place Thomas had made me dance with him. It was the first time in ages I’d laughed. I’d pushed aside everything messed up in my life and just for once, lived in the moment. Free. Happy. Safe. It was a memory that would never leave me, sweet and perfect. Easy and uncomplicated. And all because of Thomas. We were just two people dancing, and strangely enough for a brief second, I hadn’t wanted to be anywhere else…

  A blackbird soared through the cloudless sky. Hills rolled away like waves. Cattle wandered in the distance. And I felt the most intense sense of longing for this kind of life. Simple… honest… Maybe I could have that someday. Maybe Thomas was the one to make that happen…

  “Aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” said a voice from behind me.

  I damn near jumped out of my skin, spinning around to see Ben standing in the archway between the kitchen and the living room. I cursed him for shocking me.

  “I thought you’d gone.” I kept my voice steady, but my hands shook. “Thomas is just…”

  I didn’t finish. Ben took a few large steps toward me and damn it if the fear of what he could do to me made my heart race. I wondered if Thomas would hear me if I yelled. I wondered if Thomas could even help me if I needed him.

  “Why are you still here?” I asked.

  Ben blinked in the sunlight. “Someone has to stay behind and look after the animals.”

  That wasn’t the only reason. “And look after me, right?”

  He was quick to reply. “Well, yeah. How are you going to get out of here? Huh? You can’t drive, and judging by the look of Thomas, he can’t either.”

  “I don’t want your help.”

  “Well, you might not have a choice.”

  Ben’s voice trailed off when our attention was caught by something out the window. A white van, matching the color of the ground, was rolling up the drive. “Ah crap. Someone’s here. Get into the kitchen.”

  I stood where I was, not about to take orders from him.

  His face became terrifying. “Now,” he yelled. “I don’t give a shit if you’re pissed at me or not, get the hell away from the window and into the kitchen!”

  His anger jolted me into obeying. I bolted for the kitchen, almost tripping on the polished tiles, and backed up against the fridge. The marble island in the center of the room where I had first ruined pie dough stood between me and the back door; my escape route if I needed it. If Henry or Rayna were here, I could bolt through that door, head straight across Marlene’s snow-covered garden, and into the stand of birch trees. And then what?

  I looked down at my bare feet… Great.

  A knock at the front door shook the walls. The door squeaking open was loud enough it could have been right next to my head. I remained in the kitchen, staring out at the vast expanse of land through the window. What would I do about Thomas?

  “There’s no girl who looks like that here. I can assure you,” Ben was saying to whoever was at the door.

  I pulled open the cutlery drawer. A gleaming silver knife the size of my forearm was cold beneath my fingertips. I withdrew it as the voice of a man who had identified himself as a reporter boomed through the house. It was deep and husky like he’d smoked a pack a day.

  “Are you sure?” he was saying. “We’ve spoken to a few people. They say she got into a truck advertising this ranch. We just want to interview her. The mother of the child she rescued is desperate to thank her as well. I hear there’s a reward, too. Maybe you’d get a cut—”

  “Oh, piss off,” Ben said angrily. “There’s no girl here. I got nothing to tell ya so be off now.”

  Was it really a reporter at the door? Why wasn’t he asking about Marlene? She was just as much a part of the rescue as I was.

  “Oh, come on now, no need to be rude,” the husky-voiced man said. “Why don’t you have us in? We can talk about things going on in town and the accident. Wouldn’t you like to be on television?”

  Ben growled. “Listen, I got a house full of guns and enough hands on deck to put ‘em all to good use. Unless you want to interview my pistol pointing at your forehead, I suggest you leave.”

  I knew Mr. Carlson had guns in the house; his favorite shotgun was under the couch in the living room, and he had a collection in the basement. But I wouldn’t be able to get to either without being seen by whoever was at the door.

  I held my breath until I heard the door slam and the sound of an engine starting up and fading away.

  Ben called out to me. “It was just some nosy prick from town, Kate. Nothing to worry about.”

  Still, I held the knife. The weight of it was comforting. Ben had come into the kitchen, and I tightened my grip.

  “Geezus, whatcha think your gonna do with that?” he said, eyeing my weapon.

  I noticed a shift in the light behind him. Something wide darkened the snow for a mere moment. I used the knife to point to the window. “Someone’s out there. Outside.”

  He spun around to peer out between the lace curtains. “Uh, nope. Nothin’ but snow and horse crap.”

  I followed him into the living room where he gave a good solid scan to the front yard. “Nothing here, either. That van is gone.” He swung around to face me, eyeing the knife still in my hands. “Now put that down before you hurt yourself.”

  Before I could back up, he was before me, fingers closing around my wrist. I froze. The memory of being completely at his mercy in that bunkhouse came back with blinding panic. I was so helpless… so weak…but Ben was sober. When the knife was removed from my fingers and placed on the coffee table, I reminded myself of that. He respectfully stepped back and put his hands up—I hoped he’d walk away, but he stayed put.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said.

  I shook my head, barely keeping together. “And I need to leave.”

  “Just sit a moment, Kate. All right?” he said, motioning to the cream-colored couch where Marlene liked to do her crossword puzzles.

  “I really need to leave, Ben. You said so yourself that—”

  “I know. But I just need a minute.” He put his hands together in mock prayer. “Please.”

  I sat and hugged an embroidered pillow while he paced in front of me. He rubbed his chin, taking a moment to find his words.

  “My wife left me six years ago,” he said sadly.

  “Sorry to hear that,” I offered.

  “I don’t blame her. I was an asshole.”

  “Oh?” I wasn’t sure what sort of reaction Ben was looking for.

  “She was a teacher, wanted kids… I didn’t.”

  I stayed quiet, wishing Thomas would wake up.

  “It started pulling us apart, and I discovered that drinking was easier than talking. I started getting angry at her. I may have… hit her. Once or twice.”

  I couldn’t contain a gasp of shock. “You… hit your wife?”

  Ben nodded. “When she left, the booze flowed harder. It got me through the lonely nights and made forgetting what I’d done easy. I did some shitty things. And you know what? I didn’t even care that I did them. Until… until you came along.”

  I didn’t want to hear what was coming next. “Ben, I—”

  He shook his head and kept pacing. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not… delusional. I’m probably twice your age. I realize now you and me would never have happened
.”

  He took his hat off and placed it next to the knife. Where he stood, the outline of the sun shining in through the living room window was like a golden halo bathing him in light. When he ran his hand over the top of his head and swallowed hard, his lip quivered slightly. I was grateful the light, enhanced by the blinding snow outside, made it difficult to fully focus on his face.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is you woke me up. It took doing something horrible to someone I—well, someone I thought I might have a future with to make me realize what I needed to change in my life. Because of you, I am going to put away the bottle and work on getting some emotional things in check. And I am going to apologize to my ex-wife. And others I’ve hurt along the way.”

  “Make sure one of them is Marlene,” I said bitterly.

  Ben appeared confused. “Marlene?”

  “Yes. You attacked her. Like you attacked me.”

  His hand flew to his mouth, and he spun away from me. His shoulders slumped. “Oh my God,” he muttered. “Jeb’s daughter? Oh my God… no…”

  I gave him a moment. When he turned back to face me, there were tears on his cheeks. “I never… I didn’t mean to… Is that why she hates me so much? I never meant—”

  “Regardless of what you meant, you did it. You took advantage of someone weaker than you, and whether fueled by booze or not, there’s no excuse for that. So own it and do something about it. And hitting your wife?” I felt fire in my veins. “That’s about as low as you can go.”

  He stood still, staring at the floor.

  “I can see that deep inside you’re a good man, Ben. I believe you when you say you’re going to get help. For your sake and the sake of others, I sure hope it works for you.” I forced my own emotions back to where they were trying to explode from. I feared him. And I hated he instilled that feeling in me. So I twisted it into strength, because facing him on my own meant I was strong. “I know from now on you’ll do the right thing.”

  He gave me a subtle nod. “I will. I promise. Can you forgive me? Please?”

  Could I? People made mistakes. Lord knew I had. And given the circumstances, given it wasn’t pre-meditated, and the pain of remorse and guilt were so obvious on his face, Ben’s mistakes could be forgiven someday. But not today.

  “I think in time I can, but not quite yet. You… hurt me,” I said.

  “I’ll work hard for your forgiveness, Kate.”

  The sun grew brighter in the quiet room. “It’s Kaya. My real name is Kaya,” I said.

  A smile came over his face, and his hands dropped to his sides. “Well, thank you for sharing that. You never really seemed like a ‘Kate’ to me—”

  A strange whizzing sound interrupted us. Suddenly, his body jerked and his eyes grew wide. He went to say something, but his face contorted in shock and his hands flew to his chest.

  Then he dropped to his knees.

  “Ben?” I said tentatively.

  An icy wind hit my cheeks. I noticed a hole in the picture window directly behind him.

  It took a stunned second to put two and two together.

  Blood poured from Ben’s chest as he fell forward onto his stomach. In the second it took me to get from the couch to where he’d fallen, there was already a pool of red on the hardwood floor. I shook him, shoving him over onto his back. “Ben?” I said again, feeling dizzy as I stared down; there was a gaping wound at his chest. A bullet from outside had gone straight through the window and him. I glanced at the back of the couch; inches from where I’d been sitting was a red-stained hole.

  “Thomas,” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Stay where you are… they’re here!”

  The only reply was the furnace kicking in.

  I shook Ben. “C’mon, open your eyes, Ben, please. We have to get out of here.” I stayed low to the floor in case the shooter was still outside. “You’ll be all right. I’ll get you to a hospital. You’ll be okay.”

  His eyes flew open and focused on mine. He stared, unblinking, holding onto my gaze for dear life. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I cradled his head in my hands. “It’s okay… I forgive you… I truly do…”

  And then the light left his eyes. I saw it flicker, dim, then fade completely. He wasn’t seeing me anymore. He was staring. At nothing.

  Hearing a cracking sound from outside, I dove for the couch. I pulled out Mr. Carlson’s shotgun from underneath. It was loaded, heavy, and my wounded arm shook like a leaf trying to aim it. “I’ll blow your goddamn head off,” I yelled to whoever was outside, then for good measure fired at the already-broken window and into the yard. The pane shattered completely, and the kickback from the gun sent me reeling backward.

  My ears numbly buzzed as I scrambled back to Ben, who had gone completely white.

  I grabbed a pillow and placed it on his chest. Pushing down, I put all my strength into my arms. I had to slow the bleeding, then he would be all right. I just had to keep pressure on the hole that was directly through his…

  Chest.

  I listened for breathing.

  Nothing.

  I put two fingers to his neck and checked his pulse.

  Nothing.

  I pushed down harder. Called his name. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping for a moment I was in a bad dream.

  But I opened them to see the cowboy who had saved my life was dead.

  White noise filled my ears. My chest rattled, and my lungs felt ready to burst. Anger, hate, revenge, fear, sadness, and heartbreak… it surfaced all at once, creating an unbearable mountain of emotion that clawed at every single fiber of my very being.

  And then… I felt nothing.

  Wind whipped through the room, fluttering the curtains, knocking over a picture of Marlene on a skating rink. The world around me became silent. Still. The only warmth left in it was Ben’s blood as it seeped through the pillow and oozed between my fingers.

  I shut his eyelids. I bit my lip so hard my own blood poured onto his forehead and left behind little drops of red on his tanned cheeks.

  He was gone, so I released pressure on his chest and let him go.

  Then, I let everything go.

  Thomas had made his way up the stairs, and was crouched in the safety of the windowless hallway. He was breathless as he spoke, asking the same question over and over. I could see him crystal clear in the corner of my vision even though the sight before me demanded my full attention. Ben—lifeless, grey, dead. It took a minute to reply and understand what Thomas was asking.

  “Kaya, are you okay?”

  Was I? I pulled my gaze away from Ben and turned to Thomas; whatever expression I wore made him jump.

  “Are you okay?” he repeated.

  I nodded.

  “Good. Just stay low, all right? Make your way over to me.” His voice quivered with worry.

  “Ben is dead.” I crawled across the cold floor.

  “I know. Just come here. To me. Stay low!”

  “He said he was sorry. That was the last thing he said before a bullet went right through his chest. He died in my arms. I forgave him for what he did, but I don’t know if he heard me.”

  “Don’t think of that, right now. Just make your way here, carefully.”

  I focused on Thomas’s beautiful face as he nervously tracked my every movement. He had a gun in each hand and waited until I was inches from him before putting one down and throwing an arm around me. I inhaled his scent, allowing him to hold me tight while I rested my head on his shoulder, kneeling before him as he tried to comfort me.

  But I didn’t need comfort.

  I pulled away. “Got extra ammo?” I asked, and there was a calm aloofness to my voice that sounded foreign even in my own ears.

  Thomas eyed me curiously. He was expecting me to be a crying mess, not cool and collected. “Uh… yeah.”

  “Hand it over,” I demanded.

  His eyes were swimming in his skull. “Do you even know how to use a gun?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?
”

  I picked up the one he’d placed on the floor, confidently opened the cartridge, and then locked it back in place. Without argument, he handed me the ammo he had stuffed into his pockets. I put two cartridges in my jeans and another in my bra.

  “Good place to keep your stuff,” he said, trying to force a grin through chattering teeth. “What else you got in there?”

  I had no time for jokes. “Do you know how to use a gun?” I asked.

  He nodded, cheeks getting paler by the second. I could tell he was in a lot of pain, his head probably throbbing with every movement. He was barely able to sit up, let alone hold his hand steady and take aim. In a confrontation he’d be dead before he could even pull the trigger.

  Our survival was up to me.

  “Listen Thomas, I need you to go back to the basement and barricade yourself in the bedroom. Stay there until you hear my voice on the other side of the door telling you it’s okay to come out. I’m going to go outside and take care of this. Don’t let anyone near you for any reason unless I say so. Got it?”

  An anxious laugh escaped him. “No goddamn way. You’re not serious.”

  “Listen, you can’t even stand. You’ve got a concussion. You are no match for whoever we’re up against. The only way I can protect you is to get to them first.” I clutched the shotgun; there were two rounds left in it and the range was better than the handgun—I just wish I knew how many I was up against.

  Thomas, realizing I wasn’t kidding, latched onto my forearm in an unbreakable grip. “That’s crazy! You don’t have to protect me. You aren’t doing this on your own, Kaya! Good Lord, who knows how many are out there. I mean—”

  “Stop. If anything happens to you, that will be the end of me. Not because I am weak, but because I want you in my life. Understand?”