Burnt Road: Dante

by Neal, Toby

  Dante caught Beauty’s rein on the inside, nearest Sweetie, and with a quick calculation decided to go for the mare’s rein, too. If he could pull their heads in toward each other, it might calm them.

  Tightening his grip on the rein and the collar, Dante reached across the gap between the horses.

  “Careful, Dante!” He heard Melody’s voice calling to him, loud and encouraging. She wasn’t panicking. She believed in him.

  Dante lunged outward, his body dropping dangerously close to the churning earth between the horses and the long wooden tongue they were hitched to, but he got his hand on Sweetie’s rein.

  He pulled himself back upright on Beauty’s back, using his weight, his heels, and his backward lean to signal the horse to slow. Then he pulled on the two reins with both arms, muscling the horses’ heads in toward each other.

  Sweetie was drenched in sweat, her sides flecked with foam, and so was Beauty. The moment the horses looked into each other’s eyes they began to slow, snorting and winded, dropping to a canter, then a trot as Dante talked soothingly to them. He caught hold of Beauty’s other loose rein and Sweetie swiveled her ear to hear Dante’s voice. As they slowed to a walk, he slid off Beauty’s back to balance on the singletree, catching Sweetie’s other rein and drawing the horses to a gentle stop.

  He stepped forward and jumped off the tongue of wood to stand in front of the horses. Sweetie pressed her forehead into his chest, leaning on him as if for reassurance, while Beauty hung his head low, blowing heavily.

  The wagon creaked and rocked as Melody jumped down.

  Dante looked up as she came alongside him, feeling a draft from the deep canyon breeze on his back.

  “Do you see what’s ahead?” she whispered, as if the horses could understand.

  “Yes,” he whispered back. “I’ll just lead them away from here.”

  Dante’s body shook with the aftereffects of adrenaline and his belly hollowed as he glanced at the deep canyon, only a stone’s throw away.

  He handed Melody Beauty’s reins. “He’s really blown. We have to cool them down or they could get colic.”

  They got the horses turned away, reversing the wagon back the way they had come. The vehicle’s off-road tires traversed the crusty sand, and once the horses were cooled down, Dante halted them. The puppies poked their heads up from under the wagon’s seat and barked to be let down.

  “No, babies. Just a little longer,” Melody soothed. She held the horses by their bridles as Dante unhitched the wagon, dropping the singletree to the ground. Both horses heaved a sigh of relief, and Melody laughed her old laugh, bright and filled with life. “That was a real workout for them!”

  “Not just them. I worked up a sweat, too. Hold them while I fetch some water and the map and compass. We need to get back on the road.”

  “Aye, Commander Spock. You were amazing back there.” Dante glanced up sharply to see if she was mocking him, but she wasn’t. Her smile was as open and loving as it had ever been, and he wanted to kiss her.

  Wanting to kiss her felt really good.

  Dante’s step had new energy as he fetched the horses’ water buckets and the navigation tools.

  Seated in the shade cast by the wagon, Dante opened the map as Melody joined him. He frowned at the way she kept her hands curled close in her lap. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

  “Let me see.” He caught one of her hands and sucked in a breath at the raw, red gouge across her palm. “The other one too?”

  “The reins.” Melody shrugged. “It’s nothing compared to your injuries.”

  She winced as Dante took her hand, opening her fingers to examine the injury. Driven by impulse, Dante leaned over and kissed the red line of abrasion on her palm, then looked up into her eyes. “You were very brave. You never lost your cool through that whole thing.”

  “And you were my Superman.” Melody’s eyes shone with love and admiration.

  She didn’t see him as that broken victim on the couch.

  Just the memory of his utter subjugation made Dante turn his eyes away.

  But she HAD seen him like that. How could she see him any other way? How could he?

  “Dante.” Melody’s voice was pleading.

  Dante didn’t look at her. “I’ll get the medical kit. We probably both need some first aid.”

  He couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  How long would she wait for him to get over his attack? He had heard her soft sobs when he lay awake at night, and watched her control her loving impulses to touch and comfort him. It wasn’t easy for someone as affectionate as she was to watch him suffer alone.

  But she wouldn’t wait forever. The thought tightened his belly.

  She might give up and leave him, but probably not until they got to the Haven. There she could pick any one of his much better brothers to be with. They needed each other just to survive until then.

  He had until they reached the Haven to find his way back to her.

  * * *

  After a rest and water, they’d re-hitched the horses but decided not to go back all the way they’d come, instead traversing the edge of the canyon looking for the path they’d been following.

  After a half hour Melody frowned, flapping the map. “I don’t understand why we haven’t found the road yet.”

  “It must be ahead.” Dante held the reins. He’d bandaged Melody’s hands and she’d checked him over too, pronouncing him almost healed from the beating. Other than the yellows and greens of bruising, he was feeling much better. The adrenaline rush from turning the horses seemed to have helped snap him out of the darkest depths of his depression, though he could still feel the cloud of it hovering near, threatening to engulf him again.

  The wagon lurched and tipped as one of the wheels dropped unexpectedly.

  Melody fell into Dante, and they both slid to the edge of the bench. The horses neighed and strained against the stalled equipage, but Dante pulled them in. “Whoa. Steady.”

  Melody’s firm, soft, womanly weight against him didn’t feel bad, so he let her get her balance there as he turned to see what the problem was.

  The right front wheel had sunk deep into some kind of sinkhole, and was up to the axle in sand.

  “We better get down and see what we can do about this.” Dante turned his head and inhaled Melody’s scent, musky and sweet. She smelled like the road, like hard work, like Melody. Always delicious.

  She misread his gesture and wriggled quickly away from him, crawling awkwardly over the seat into the back of the wagon. She scooped up the puppies and climbed out via the back tailgate.

  Dante jumped down from the tilted seat. They both looked at the deeply stuck axle.

  “I think it’s time to continue on horseback.”

  “Good,” Melody agreed. “Because after that last adventure I was going to tell you I was over the wagon thing. I mean it was nice to have a bed, but really we took it so you could…” Melody blew out a breath. “Recover.”

  Dante kept his eyes on the puppies, who chose this opportunity to sniff around the horses’ hooves. Barkley even lifted a leg to pee on Beauty’s hoof until the horse stamped impatiently. “It happened. I’m getting better. I hope I will be all the way better, soon.” He made himself look at Melody, hoping to communicate what he meant, but she had turned away.

  “I know you’ll be fine, Dante.” But she didn’t look at him. “I guess we should prep the saddlebags and backpacks I brought. I always knew we’d need to leave the wagon.” She walked away to the tailgate.

  After organizing and repacking, they mounted the horses and left the wagon, still imprisoned in its sand trap. Dante looked back at it, listed to the side in abandonment. “I feel like a pioneer having to leave the Conestoga behind.”

  Melody laughed. “All along, this trip has seemed like a western to me.”

  “It’s had a lot of good moments.” Dante swiveled in his saddle to meet her eyes. “
Finding you on the rock was a good moment.”

  “And there have been really bad ones.” Melody shook her head. “I remember you saying that every time we had something bad happen, something good happened to keep us moving toward the Haven. I’m still waiting for the ‘something good’ from this last thing.”

  Dante swayed in his saddle as he let Sweetie’s sure-footed, easy walk carry him along. “I don’t know what good there is from it either, except that you killed Bent and Snake, and no one else will have to suffer because of them.”

  “I guess there’s that.” But Melody’s voice was flat.

  Dante wished he could reach out to her and take her hand as they rode side by side, but the distance seemed too far to reach across.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Dante

  They finally found the wagon track and made it down into the canyon, which had water in a shallow river at the bottom. Then they headed up into the mountains where they camped under the protection of a rock outcropping, having to hobble the horses for the first time.

  Melody fretted over the much-folded map in the morning. “This map ends at the town. We need a new one that covers further north.”

  “We’ve come the right way to avoid people.” Dante gestured to the swath of sparse, empty mountainside.

  “Yes, but we’re almost out of food. We should be able to make it to the town before nightfall if we push through.”

  They descended from the hills as dusk fell, but the town was a disappointment. Dante and Melody rode along the looted, burned main street, looking back and forth between the hollow shells of buildings for any sign of people or supplies. They were lucky to find a map of the area in the gas station store, which had been looted of almost everything else.

  Dante couldn’t help thinking of the town they had torched, and when he glanced at Melody, he could see by her pinched mouth that she was remembering it, too.

  They came to a farm outside of the town limits where they were able to put the horses out in a fenced pasture and wash in a trough with a hand pump that kept the water fresh.

  The house reeked of decomposition and they dreaded what they’d find upstairs, so after filling their bags with canned food and harvesting some late tomatoes from the abandoned garden, they bedded down in a comfy straw pile in the barn.

  Lying on his makeshift bed, looking at the dim rafters above where an owl hooted, Dante wished he was ready to touch Melody again. This would be an ideal place to make love to her.

  He could hear her even breathing as she slept mere feet away. Barkley, curled at Dante’s feet, whimpered and scrabbled his little legs in some doggy dream.

  Maybe he was ready to be closer to Melody, but she seemed to have given up her need to reach out to him, and the distance between them felt like it was settling into something permanent.

  The thought chilled him. It was up to him to bridge that distance. He had created it.

  Stealthily, Dante got up and moved closer to Melody, tugging Barkley along on his blanket. He lay down close enough to feel the heat of her body and smell the fresh scent of her hair, washed with dish soap from the kitchen sink.

  Getting the sweat and dirt of the road off had felt good.

  Melody had her back to him, and he sidled closer, turning his face into her hair. He fell asleep with her scent all around him, and rested the best he had in days.

  Dante woke up alone.

  Melody sat by the barn door, her back against the wall, sunlight shimmering on her black hair as she bent over the map they’d found. He watched Abigail climb into her lap, and Melody pet her. She whispered to the puppy, then bent her head and kissed the dog before returning her attention to the map.

  He loved her.

  Melody was like the bright North Star, shining through the clouds on a stormy night. She was a source of light that Dante could still see in the darkness that cloaked him. She was guiding him home.

  He needed her.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “I think I figured out a good route.”

  Dante tossed aside the blankets and joined her by the door. Her smell mixed with the hay lifted his spirits.

  There was still good in the world.

  “If we continue into this valley,” she traced her finger across an open space between two mountains, “we can meet up with Route 93 again and we can follow it right up to Twin Falls, Idaho. There are no major cities en route, just some medium-size towns, but we can either go around or if they don’t feel dangerous, hopefully pass right through. We may even be able to find a car.”

  Melody stopped talking, raising her head to look out the open door to the horses.

  “I’d rather ride,” Dante said.

  “Yes,” Melody nodded. “Me, too. But we need to think about safety.” She didn’t look at him.

  Dante reached out, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and she turned to him, her eyes shining.

  He wanted to kiss her.

  Melody drew her bottom lip between her teeth, enticing him further. Dante leaned forward slowly, and Melody’s breath hitched as electricity zinged between them. All the hairs on his body rose when his lips met hers.

  Melody stayed still, letting him lead, letting him choose the pressure, and Dante kept it soft, just skin against skin. He couldn’t take the wet, slippery feel of a tongue yet. But maybe in time he would be able to.

  For Melody, he could do anything.

  He was her Superman.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Melody

  Melody and Dante rode into the valley she’d found on the map. The sparse desert, probably fifty miles wide, felt narrow due to the sharp, towering mountains surrounding it.

  They stayed at a walk to allow the horses some rest. There was no sense of urgency. The knowledge that they needed to get to Idaho, to safety, was ever-present, but Melody knew that time was healing Dante. And she wanted him to have all the time he needed.

  He’d kissed her!

  Soft and gentle, intimate without invasion, the perfect new beginning.

  Melody looked over at him, his hat pulled low against the sun, one hand on his muscled thigh, the other hovering over the pommel, a loose grip on the reins.

  A thrill of anticipation raced over her skin. She wanted Dante. He was so beautiful and strong. Hopefully he’d be ready to be with her again soon.

  The day passed in easy silence. As the sun set, casting a warm pink glow over the taupe landscape, they headed toward a rise in the ground dotted with mesquite trees. If they were lucky, they could gather wood and have a fire. It grew cold in the desert at night, and after a long day of riding, a warm can of beans was much preferable to a cold one.

  Dante led the way, encouraging Sweetie up into the trees with those soft kissing noises. He pulled her up short suddenly, and Beauty let out a snort of annoyance as he bumped into the mare’s tail.

  The sound of coughing reached Melody: harsh, strangled, dying.

  Fear tightened Melody’s grip on the reins as Dante turned Sweetie around.

  “Wait,” Melody whispered. “What if they need help?”

  Dante pulled Sweetie to a stop close, their legs almost touching. “They could be dangerous.”

  Melody patted the shotgun attached to her saddle. “We know how to deal with them, then, don’t we?” She raised her eyebrows. She was done with leaving evil men alive.

  “I don’t want to risk your safety.”

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to.” She smiled. “I’m the one risking it.” She squeezed Beauty and the horse moved forward, climbing up the hill into the trees.

  The coughing grew louder, and Melody spotted a tent in the grove, a bright purple shell glowing in the soft light. The flap unzipped and the figure of a boy around twelve years old emerged. Melody raised a hand in greeting. The boy scowled and raised a crossbow.

  Melody’s chest tightened as adrenaline flooded her. “Whoa, hey. We won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  The coughing coming from the tent
got louder, and the boy glanced back. The skin around his eyes was strained, and his mouth formed a tight line as he tried not to cry.

  Melody’s heart ached for him.

  The boy’s attention returned to her. His eyes were deep brown, almost black, and his hair flopped over his brow, touching thick lashes.

  “We’re not going to hurt you. We have food. Do you need help?”

  “We also have water,” Dante added from behind Melody. The boy’s attention shifted to Dante as he pulled Sweetie up alongside Beauty. “You’re a Boy Scout.” He gestured at a patch on the boy’s shirt.

  The boy nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing further.

  Dante raised his hand, holding up three fingers. “You have my word, as a fellow Scout, we will not hurt you or those with you. On my honor.”

  The boy’s body relaxed. “We need water,” he admitted. “My parents are sick.”

  Dante dismounted and Melody followed his lead. The boy ducked back into the tent. They heard him speaking, but could not make out the words.

  “Thank you,” Melody whispered to Dante. “For being willing to help.”

  Dante removed his canteen. “I want you to be happy. And if I can’t be the man I was, maybe I can be different.” His eyes were golden and soft. He raised a hand to touch her cheek.

  A lump rose in Melody’s throat. Tears burned and she blinked.

  Dante stepped toward her. “I’ve upset you.”

  “No.” She swiped at an errant tear. “You’ve made me very happy.”

  “You are happy when you cry?”

  Melody smiled. “Sometimes.” She took a breath. “I want to kiss you.”

  “Wait, please. When we’re in private.” Dante cupped her cheek and Melody leaned into his caress, her eyes fluttering closed. “I will come back to you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I know it’s true.” Melody took her canteen and started toward the tent.