by Dana Pratola
Jim lowered his eyes. Whatever else he was—inexperienced, opportunistic, dim-witted—he wouldn’t have wanted to see me die. But was letting me get hurt any better a character reference? Mac held his tongue. I wouldn’t mind loosening his jaw for him.
“How about you, Mac? What did Brew tell you? That he’d put you in charge?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
I glanced up at Ben, whose own jaw muscles were flexing in tune to his heartbeat. “You believe him?”
“No, I don’t,” Ben shot back.
“It was an accident, that’s all,” Mac said. He swallowed, gripping his hat in his hands, turning it ‘round like a coiling spring.
“If I can prove it wasn’t—and there’s rumor going around to that effect—it’s not going to go well for you,” I told him.
“What rumor?” Mac asked. “Who said so?”
“What’d they say about me?” Jim asked, taking a step closer, not with hostile intent, genuinely concerned. “Cause if they said I did anything besides see if Tory was still in the barn, they’re lying. I didn’t do anything.”
“Shut up, Jim,” Mac ordered.
“Knock it off,” I said. “Or am I going to have to—”
“What?” Mac asked, more or less daring me to come around the desk.
I rose from my chair. I might not be up to a scuffle yet, but I was sure going to find out if he didn’t back off.
“You’re out of your depth, Mac,” Ben warned. “Shouldn’t be playing the odds with a man your size, who’s carrying around a whole lot of rage and frustration. Especially not when he’s looking you in the eye, aware of what’s going on.”
Mac paused for only a second, then must have thought better of the notion of a fight. “I didn’t do anything!” he shouted, then pointed to Jim. “This idiot came up with the idea in the first place and he’s makin’ out like he’s innocent as a fawn in the grass.”
“What are you saying?” Jim asked, stepping into Mac’s face.
Voices immediately escalated, chest bumped chest, arms flailed out and back. Jim might be young, but I’d seen him drag a full-grown bull to the ground. Ben sat on the front corner of my desk; arms folded. These men would make a hell of a mess out of my office if they got into it. They’d get no interference from us. Save me the trouble of firing them.
Then again, I looked forward to that and didn’t mean to be robbed of the chance.
“Get out. Both of you,” I said. They stopped squabbling long enough to look at me. “Out. And don’t come back.”
Their voices were directed at me now, but I was in no mood to deal with this. I leaned over and opened the door.
“You weren’t supposed to get hurt bad,” Mac pled. “Just enough to put you out of commission long enough to see how Brew could step in and handle things.”
“Damn horse didn’t stick to the plan,” Ben said.
“No, he sure didn’t,” Mac answered, missing the sarcasm entirely.
I grabbed Mac by the arm. He tried to pull away, dropped his hat and stooped to pick it up, complaining the whole while how his only crime was listening to Brew. I kicked his hat out the door then shoved him out after it and down the steps.
“Get off my property.” I grabbed Jim’s arm, pushing him out, too. “Consider yourselves fired. Don’t come back or I’ll call the cops.”
“Kash, please, let me explain,” Jim begged.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“But I didn’t do nothing wrong! I never gave Brew the idea. We were hanging at the tavern and he was gripin’ about how he knows better than you what clients want and how to—”
“I don’t care.”
“All I said was, I suppose if Kash had some kind of accident and couldn’t work, you’d probably be in charge and could do things your way. But until that happens, he’s the boss and that’s just the way it is. That’s exactly what I said, just that way,” Jim argued. “And that was weeks ago.”
He tried to come back up the steps but I blocked his way. “You can’t be trusted and I don’t want to see your face again.”
Accepting his fate, Mac headed for his truck, but Jim stood groveling in the dirt at the base of the steps.
“Please, Kash, I’ve been here for three years. I’ve never given you a minute’s trouble, have I?”
No, he hadn’t.
“And I wasn’t watching for Tory so they could lock you in that trailer.” He aimed a shaking finger at Mac, who flung his driver’s door open. “Let him call me a liar. He can’t! I only looked because Brew told me to peek in the window to see if Tory was inside.”
“And you didn’t wonder why?”
“Brew was in charge, is all,” Jim said. “If I’d known—”
“Proving you’re just too stupid to work here,” I told him, as Mac tore away out of the lot. “Go on, get out of my sight.” I went back inside and slammed the door. I honestly couldn’t stand to look at his face another second.
“Now you need four new hires,” Ben said.
“You always were great at math.”
“Five, including you.”
“What do you mean? I’m here. I’m back,” I said.
“But can you work?”
Great question, and one I’d been avoiding asking myself.
“You going to take him back?” he asked.
“Yeah, probably.” It pained me to say so, but the kid was good at his job. And he’d never tried to kill me before.
“You think Mac’ll be trouble?”
“Not if he has a drop of sense. He has a record as long as my arm. For small stuff, nothing major. Still, he knows I know everyone at Town Hall, so I expect he’ll head as far away as he can.”
Ben checked his watch. “Guess I’ll go. Time you stopped slacking anyway.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, thanks.”
“I’m going to be home for a while. I’ll be back soon as I can get away.”
“I don’t need a sitter, Ben, I’ll be fine. You’ve done so much for me already.”
“Friends, right?”
I nodded. He nodded. We were on the verge of one of those awkward man hugs. I shrugged and went for it anyway, parting quickly to sit at my desk.
He smiled. “Going to call Pastor Swift on the way home and tell him there’s been a miracle so him and the flock can come over and rejoice.”
“Don’t you dare.”
CHAPTER 17
I sat at my desk reviewing the papers left here while I’d been incapacitated. It would take me at least a week to catch up with invoices, orders, and insurance alone. I had to check out a trio of mustangs in Dover, but that would have to wait until another day. First things first.
I’d dialed Tory in the main building and asked for the client contacts, then called each one to assure them I’m fine. Brew likely didn’t know we kept copies of all files on all clients coming through here, for just such an event.
I don’t think anyone else knew either, just Tory. I trusted her more than anyone here. Brew was an idiot. People in rural areas were very picky about who handled their horses and once word got around how he snaked me, he wouldn’t be able to snag a job mucking stalls.
Aside from that, he was a ruthless hand, who’d come up learning how to break horses, wearing them down, stealing their will until it’s all about control and fear. I’d had to remind him—twice forcefully—that we don’t do that here. We start colts, earning their trust, laying the foundation so they want to be ridden, building a relationship that teaches them to want what you want. Foundation is everything, no shortcuts.
Come three-thirty, I finished for the day and wanted to make it back to the house before Brenna. She’d mentioned tonight was her late night and she wouldn’t be back until seven-thirty or so. I had no idea what I was doing. I had to tell her I had my vision, but … not yet.
Call it reckless, call it creepy, I don’t know, I just wanted a chance to interact with her without her knowing I could
see. Without her being self-conscious about her appearance, or avoiding doing whatever it was she did around there when she assumed I wasn’t looking. It wasn’t fair, no, but how often did an opportunity like this present itself? I thought of it as laying the foundation, same as I would a filly, easing her into a regular routine of trusting me.
Unfortunately, Ben had gone and I couldn’t drive myself to the house and have her see me pull up, and I didn’t want anyone questioning why I preferred an abandoned house to the comfort of my own home. There was the problem of getting back here tomorrow, but I’d figure that out in the morning.
I had just decided Andy would be the best person to ask for a ride. Before I did, I needed to lay down. The fatigue the doc warned me about slammed into me hard, same time as the headache. Eyestrain. I hoped. No sooner had I walked into my bedroom—my own comfortable bedroom, not some dust-imbedded box—than I’d passed out.
*****
When I opened my eyes, instant panic. I’d wanted to rest my eyes, trying to avoid going to sleep—closing my eyes for longer than ten seconds, anyway—in the unlikely event that when I woke, I would be blind again, and here I was in a fully dark room, no light at all. I can’t explain the choking misery that grabbed a hold of my heart, dragging me back to that world of hopeless despair in the space of a few seconds. I literally had to force a breath in, then out.
That despair fled in utter relief when I bolted upright and caught a glimpse of light through the window. I wasn’t blind, it was night! I flipped on a lamp and spent the first fifteen minutes thanking Jesus. I might have continued on if not for Brenna popping into my mind. I’d wanted to be at the house before her. I hoped she wasn’t worried.
Ben also picked that moment to call and tell me he was almost here. Perfect. I had my ride.
“You sure?” he asked, when I climbed into his truck a few minutes later with a change of clothes.
“Yup. Let’s stop for some food, though. Brenna’s probably hungry. She lives on chips at the house.”
Ben shook his head.
“What?”
“I don’t get you.”
Yeah, me either. “I know,” I said.
“I mean … it seems like there’s a whole lot more going on than you’re letting me in on.”
Seemed that way to me, too, but what? “I wish I knew how to explain it to you, Ben. It’s not about the girl.” Well, more than that. “It’s like I told you yesterday, I’m liking spending time with my own thoughts.”
“And you can’t do that at home?”
“No. Too many distractions, now especially. They’ll never let me be, checking up on me, for at least the next week. I’m not ready to forfeit the solitude yet.”
“But it’s not solitude if the girl is there.”
“It is. Again, I can’t explain it.” We kind of … meshed. Our quiet was separate, together, and it just complemented each other. “I know, maybe I have other mental problems,” I said, offering a chuckle. “Maybe that knock to the head did open a door, like the show said. A door to a quiet room I’d like to stay in for a while, only not completely alone.”
Ben was quiet, letting me spew whatever this nonsense was coming out of my mouth. I hoped he wasn’t insulted that I hadn’t mentioned it would be nice having him around.
“I like spending time with you, too—”
He laughed. “Don’t. I’m not jealous of you wanting to be alone with your little ghost.”
I laughed, too.
*****
Wally was on my last nerve. I figured working on bikes must be pretty boring, but I had no intention of being his source of amusement. He’d been in three times today, first to ask how my bike was holding up. Next, to see if my TV was working, and just an hour ago to ask if I wanted a ride home.
An excuse to come talk, and I knew what this was leading to. Him working his way up to asking me out. Ugh! Not going to happen, and if I shot him down it would make seeing him all the time very awkward. Evading the issue seemed the best course.
However, I was glad he lingered long enough to hear my boss offer to toss my bike in his trunk and give me a ride, since it was starting to get cold and he’d made my late night even later than anticipated. Glad, also annoyed. There’d been no reason for Wally to keep the bike shop open late other than to wait for me.
Anyway, I refused the offer. I didn’t want my boss knowing where I was staying any more than I wanted Wally to know, and at least now he wouldn’t take it personally that I wouldn’t ride with him. He would, however, take it personally when I refused a date.
As soon as we closed up the store, I mounted my bike and pedaled my butt off. There was no sign of Wally when I left, though I did think I heard the faint sound of the bells over the bike shop door jingle when I was a little further away. I didn’t look back.
The day hadn’t been totally annoying, though. I was happy to check my bank balance this morning to learn that I finally had enough to rent a room somewhere, with a month’s security. If they didn’t ask for security, I would have enough to buy an air mattress, maybe a folding table and chairs. Though I still had to find a place, which was not easy in a town this small. Rentals were few because most folks belonged here. They were born, raised, and died in this town, like most before them. But something would turn up. It had to. If not here in Myron, then the next town over. Anywhere I could pedal to and from until I checked off the next goal on my list, a car.
Go me! I was so excited with thoughts of my new place and eventually getting my feet back under me, that I pedaled most of the way up the hill in the biting air before I had to dismount and walk the remainder.
The house squatted against the dusk sky, a puzzle piece out of place, surrounded by open space and chilled air. Welcoming? No, nothing about the house welcomed, even my time with Josiah here hadn’t changed that, but I thought I might miss it when I left for good. Though I prayed for that time to come quickly, I had bittersweet feelings.
Josiah wasn’t there when I got in, but when I dared flip on the foyer light, I was relieved to find his things still heaped in the parlor. I assumed he was out with Ben and refused to consider any scenarios involving flashing lights and hospitals.
I shut the light off quickly and made my way upstairs. If I covered the bathroom window with a towel, the light wouldn’t be seen outside, so I did, and stripped. I had to hurry, in case Josiah returned while I was in there.
*****
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” Ben said, rolling up the driveway.
“She wouldn’t want anyone to know, so wouldn’t turn the lights on.” She’d told him that.
“Let me check for her bike.”
We got out of the truck and he jogged across the grass around the side of the house. I stood next to the truck trying to look blind by not moving a lot, and keeping my eyes off the windows on the likely chance she would be sneaking a peek out. Staring up the road, I noticed a car silhouetted against the night. The nearest thing to it was this house. Strange.
Though not as strange as the figure of a man I saw from the corner of my eye, creeping along the front of the house, edging toward the side, toward the car. My only thought was for Brenna. What if he’d been inside the house and found her alone? What if he’d hurt her?
Giving no thought to Brenna seeing me, or surprising Ben, or how bad it could be if he shot first and asked questions later, I did the only logical thing. I ran full force, tackling the shadow to the ground with a grunt and a violent thud that reverberated through us both.
“Help! Help! Stop!” the man yelled, doing his best to cover his face and head with his arms. Not the kind of thing I expected from a violent predator.
“Who are you?” I demanded, rolling off him and holding him down by his shoulder. I recognized his face from outside the bike shop at the same time the odor hit me.
“My name’s Wally. I’m not trying to steal anything!”
“Shut up.”
Just then, Ben charged around the cor
ner of the porch, gun drawn. “Kash, what is it!”
“Don’t shoot, it’s okay,” I said, hand raised.
“Don’t shoot! Oh God, please don’t shoot!” Wally begged.
“Shut up,” I reordered. I got to my feet and looked at the house. I didn’t see any sign of Brenna. “Where’s Brenna?”
“I don’t know!”
“Keep your voice down,” I said, through gritted teeth.
“I wanted to see where she lived so I followed her. She went inside. I don’t know why she’s here. I just peeked in to see if she’s okay, there are no lights on or anything.”
“What are you, some kind of pervert?”
“No! Nothing like that,” he answered, hands still covering his face. “I just wanted to see where she lives.”
“Why?”
“I like her, I work near her and never knew where she lived. I just thought it was weird, that’s all. I swear, she never mentioned a boyfriend. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything.”
I believed him. “Hold on,” I said, with a nod to Ben. “Keep him quiet.”
I jogged into the house, calling Brenna. No answer, my heart already pounding with instant worry. It wasn’t until I almost reached the top of the stairs that I heard it just above the whoosh of blood in my ears. Running water, and a low voice singing. Not very loud and not great, but she was okay. My heart slowed enough that I took a couple seconds to grip the railing and just breathe before returning outside.
Ben had reholstered his weapon and Wally had gotten to his feet, holding his left arm. I guess he’d landed on it. He took several steps away when I came toward him.
“Relax,” I said. “Misunderstanding.” He nodded. “From now on though, she’s none of your business.”
“Yes sir, that’s fine.”
“Now get out of here.”
He did, faster than I’d thought he could run.
Ben turned to me. “She’s okay?”
“In the shower. She doesn’t know any of this happened.” Which meant I could follow through on my plan to pass myself off as blind.
