Of Honey and Wildfires

by Sarah Chorn

  The house was empty, just like he was.

  “He didn’t like that your mother settled down out here with me. He didn’t want her with a poor settler with a lackluster future. Said I was dangerous. Said I’d do nothing but drag her down. But Lila had her own mind, and she settled out here anyway. It took some adjusting. She had you, and we all made the long, long journey to the nearest transfer office to tell her pa the news. It was a risk. Even then, I was wanted for what I’d done at the shine refinery, but she said her pa deserved to know he was a grandfather, and so we went.” Chris sighed. He looked like he was reliving all this. Like at the end of the story, he’d be mourning her all over again.

  “He came out here as fast as he could. We showed him where we lived, and he was… appalled, I guess. He passed it off as worry, and we believed him. He had valid arguments, Arlen. If something happened, we had some shine, but we knew pretty early on it wouldn’t work on you. The nearest healer was a day or more away, even longer if we went by cart. If you were sick or injured, you’d likely die before we got to one. He pointed out that there was no school nearby, no other kids. Plus, I was on the wrong side of the law, and the only reason I was still free was because his daughter loved me enough to tie her life to mine. Matthew wouldn’t do anything to harm her, even if it meant letting me live free. He knew we were destitute and that wouldn’t change. I couldn’t get honest work, no matter how hard I tried. What kind of life is that for a babe?

  “We wanted what was best for you. Back east, he could give you everything you could ever need. He’d bring you out here every summer to spend the months with us. You’d get the best life could offer you, and we’d still see you for a few months each year. In Matthew Esco, we saw the chance to give you more. I shouldn’t have trusted him. I knew better. I was a fool.”

  Another pause. Long and drawn out.

  “He tried to get Lila to go back to Union City with him, but she refused to leave me behind. They had a terrible row, and I think something about that changed Matthew. Maybe he thought he’d lost his daughter for good, best to move on to the next generation and groom you as his heir.

  “So, he took you, and then a few months later, he said you died. I didn’t hear about Matthew Esco’s son until just before you came out here. Maybe a few weeks before. Rumor started to spread that the big man’s son was coming this way, and I thought, at first, it couldn’t be. There was no way Lila had a brother. I would have known. And then I got to thinking and I knew I couldn’t let this opportunity pass without seeing you. Without knowing, for sure, who you were.

  “I don’t know why he did it, Arlen. I don’t know why he took you. I don’t know why he stole twenty years of your life from me. Sure, I have theories, but I don’t know. It nearly broke Lila. He was her father, and still, he did that to his own daughter, stole Lila’s firstborn, and then lied about your death. What kind of monster does that?”

  Rain was falling faster now. Harder. Washing away all Arlen’s tears. All the hurt and pain, leaving him cold and numb.

  “So now what?” Arlen asked.

  “I don’t know,” Chris admitted.

  Cassandra is pacing.

  I have never seen her in such a state. She is nothing but motion. She is focused on a distant point I cannot see, red-rimmed from weeping, though I have not witnessed her at it. She paces across our room and I watch, helpless. Her skirts swish around her feet. Her hands are folded together, fingers tangled. She is pale, and when she stops moving, her lips are pulled tight.

  She is a leaf caught in a storm.

  I try to watch her, but I am wheezing, and the pain of it makes my eyes water and my vision swim.

  She has kept me carefully ignorant of whatever it is that is bothering her. I know she does this to protect me, but I am ill, not daft. I know she leaves at night and comes back wracked with sorrow. I heard her scream yesterday when I was sitting outside.

  I cough. It starts small, and turns into an earthquake, ravaging the shell of my body, dimming my vision. I press my kerchief to my lips and try not to see how much blood is staining it now. My lungs bubble. I gasp like a fish caught on land. Cassandra pounds her fist against my back and a bubble of bright blood dislodges and spills down my gown.

  I try not to see the tears on Cassandra’s cheeks. I try not to taste my own fear. My mouth is full of the coppery tang of blood.

  I cannot even lift my hands from my lap anymore. Cassandra takes a rag out of the nearest basin, rings it out, and presses it against my brow. Somehow, I manage to put a few drops of shine on my tongue. Instantly, the shine makes me feel better, gives me enough of a high to dull the pain.

  Cassandra watches me carefully, and then begins her pacing again, biting on her thumbnail while she does it. Outside, the town is in an uproar, people shouting, carts moving about, hammers pounding away as something is being built. It is the sound of life, edged with fear. Occasionally Cassandra looks out the window, onto the street below. She whispers words I cannot hear and I wonder if she is praying, begging Fate for a boon.

  I cough again, and the world goes dark. I wake to Cassandra holding me against her chest, swearing up a storm while she presses her bee-stung lips against my cheeks. If I could, I would carry the feel of her with me into forever.

  “I’m okay,” I try to say, but all that comes out is blood, blood, and more blood. I did not know I was so full of life. It is pouring out of me with every gasp.

  You have asked me about my father. I’m not sure which father you wish to know about. Matthew Esco was one kind of father. He raised me. He saw me into manhood. He made sure I had everything I’d ever want or desire. He lied to me from the first moment he saw me.

  Christopher Hobson came into my life like a forest fire, burning everything down, leaving me to scatter the ashes.

  What makes a father? I’m not sure. I don’t know if I will ever know the answer to that question. Is Matthew Esco my father because he was in my life longest? Or was Christopher Hobson my father because he sired me and risked everything to get me back, even after all these years?

  Is family blood, or bonds?

  Or is it both?

  You keep asking me about my father.

  You have not told me what a father is, and so I cannot answer your questions.

  The company man sat me down on a nearby stone, a large gray thing perched in the shade of a tree. Annie stood nearby, wringing her hands on her apron, glaring daggers whenever anyone looked at her, but she stayed silent and watchful. The man took a paper from his belt and flashed it at me so I might see the wax and the governor’s seal pressed into it. He then handed it to Annie and explained that it contained his orders, sent directly from the governor of Shine Territory himself.

  I did not listen to them, and so I do not know what the orders said. The other man, blue as the sky, watched me from high upon his horse while his companion spoke with Annie. I heard her startled gasp. It was all I needed to know. Annie was surprised, probably that the orders had come from such a lofty place. Surprised that someone so high would have men sent out specifically for me.

  I tried to center myself while they spoke, tried to calm my racing heart and still the panic brewing within me. I did not want to show them how frightened I was. So, I watched butterflies flit from flower to flower in the field that surrounded our cabin, wings bright yellow in the midday sun. Bees, their small bodies dusted with pollen, buzzed here and there. In the midst of it all, I sat still, hands folded demurely in my lap while my fate was decided by men who spoke with the governor’s authority and had pistols decorating their belts. I watched blue jays alight from the tree next to me, and watched as they faded into the sky. I envied them their wings.

  Life always goes on, doesn’t it? There I sat, one small girl in the center of everything I knew nothing about, vulnerable and all but alone, and yet the only thing I could think of was that, no matter what happened to me, birds would always fill the sky, bees would always collect their pollen, and butterflies would a
lways flirt in meadows.

  I wanted to be like the butterflies, though with knives for wings.

  Finally, after some manner of haggling, the green man stood before me and the blue one got off his horse and wandered toward the house, doubtless to inspect it. Annie grumbled. “Door’s right there. Whatever you poke at, you put right back,” and he disappeared into our cabin to search our things.

  He would find nothing. We were careful.

  “Cassandra,” the green man said. I never did learn his name. “There is no need to be frightened. We are sent to ask you some important questions. You must be honest. You mustn’t lie. If you lie, we will have no choice but to take you with us, away from this place and these nice people.”

  “Yessir,” I whispered. I was frightened. I did not have to fake the quiver in my voice. There I was, facing these big men with their fine horses and polished guns, and me being no older than ten. Even the governor, a man who lived a few hours’ train ride away, had heard of me. It was impossible for me not to feel cowed by the situation.

  “What do you know of your father?” The green man asked. “Christopher Hobson.”

  “Only what Annie has already told you,” My voice vibrated like a plucked string. I squeezed my hands together, focused on my fingers. “He took me here when my ma died, and then left. Said a girl needed to learn how to be civilized.”

  “How did you get through the Boundary?” I believe he asked me this to trip me up, to catch me unawares.

  “I do not think we did, sir. I do not remember passing through any Boundary. I have heard tell it makes people terribly sick, and I was never sick. We came from the north.”

  There was a beat of hesitation. “Do you know where Christopher is?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Does he visit you?”

  “No, sir. I have not seen him since the day he left me here.” It was when I answered this question that I remembered the small box of trinkets I kept beside my pallet in the loft. It was full of unassuming treasures to anyone else, buttons and ribbons, a mirror, a comb, but to me, it held the world. It was all the things my father left me by our messenger stone each month. I was terribly afraid that the man inside would find it, and take it with him, and then I would lose everything that connected me to my father.

  “Did he ever speak to you of violent activities, damages, or plans to create damage?”

  “Sir, I was five when he left me, and I had just lost my mother. He did not speak of anything that I can remember.”

  Silence weighed heavily between us. I felt him study me, and I endeavored to not show him how much his penetrating stare unnerved me. Soon, the other man was out of the cabin, shaking his head. “Nothing,” was all he said.

  “This isn’t the end of it,” the green man said, turning to Annie. A chill worked through me, a sense of foreboding that made me cold in a way I never had been before. “The governor gave us orders to watch over this house. Christopher Hobson might not be here now, but he’s in the territory, and we’ll keep watch on his get until he comes sniffing around to check up on her.”

  “He won’t,” Annie said.

  “What red-blooded man wouldn’t look in on his only daughter?” the company man replied, his voice casual, utterly unperturbed.

  “She’s just a child! She doesn’t deserve this!” Annie shouted. She laid into them then, shouting about terrorizing a small frontier family, and a young girl at that. She called them bullies and harangued them until they were on their horses and well away from this place.

  “He knew something wasn’t right,” Annie said, pulling me into her arms after they’d left. Her whole body was shaking. I felt her lips press against my crown. “He didn’t know what, but he knew it was something. They could have taken you, Cass, and what could I have done? They could have taken you.” She said that last bit over and over again. They could have taken me. They would have if ought but the smallest thing had been amiss.

  “They will be more careful now,” I said. “We will be watched.”

  “I am afraid so.” Annie wiped her hands on her apron and stared at the sky. Wisps of violet hair fell from her bun and tickled her shoulders. At moments like this, I realized how similar she looked to my father. The same nose. The same eyes. The same proud jawline. The same quiet strength. “We will have to be careful, Cassandra. Finish cutting the thyme, and then help me start supper.”

  I wanted to ask about the shine Jasper and Jack had found. But Annie seemed content to let it be, and so I left it.

  Later, when the sun was setting, Japer and Jack ambled in from the fields. They were both dirty, and covered in sweat, stinking the place up. “What happened?” Jasper asked Annie as he dumped a ewer of water over his head just outside the door.

  “Never mind that,” Annie replied. “Tell me about the shine.”

  “We were digging a well,” Jasper said, rubbing himself off with a cloth. He sank onto a chair and grabbed a hunk of bread Annie set before him. “Struck shine. Isn’t that typically the way of it?”

  “So now what?” Annie asked. “The last thing we need is company men permanently on our land.”

  “Figure we can keep it secret,” Jack said. “Sell the shine, maybe. There are runners, you know. Just gotta get it to the train. People pay good gold for crude shine.”

  “I think we should give some crude to Ianthe. Though, we could use the money made from selling it. We barely made rent last month,” Jasper said, his voice soft. It warmed me that his first thought had been for my dearest friend.

  “Jasper,” Annie admonished. “You shouldn’t have—”

  “I know who my pa is,” Jack broke in. “I know he used to run shine and guns. People out there need crude. It’s far more powerful than the refined stuff, and the company doesn’t sell it. They hardly sell anything. Some folks skim some off the top, make a living as shine pirates. We won’t get much, but we’ll get enough. There are folks in town that could put us in contact.” He pointedly looked at his father.

  “And then we’ll be caught,” Annie said.

  “Annie, no matter how we cut it, we’re on the wrong end of this one. If we turn the shine over, likely they won’t believe we just found it and are doing right by them. You know how it goes. It happens a few times a year in the territory. Someone finds shine on their property, they inform the company men, and still, they are arrested, fined, or even killed in some cases. It’s the company’s shine. They’ll say we’re stealing from them, and being tied to Chris will only make it worse.” He groaned. “It’s not an easy place to be, but I say we keep it secret. Keep it hidden. As long as we keep their focus elsewhere, we’ll be fine. It would be nice to have our own stockpile. What if something happens? If things go belly up? We’ve got to be prepared.”

  I knew that I was what would keep the lawmen occupied, looking at the cabin and not at the fields, not at that hidden well of liquid gold Jasper and Jack had struck. It feared me terribly to know I would be bait. I also knew that I would be doing a great service for the people I loved, and that eased me. They would not let me come to harm.

  “But it will be discovered,” Annie reiterated.

  “Eventually. Possibly,” Jasper replied. “But no use worrying over it now. We’ve got time to chart our course. Don’t need to settle it all right now. Let’s eat.”

  The matter was settled, for a time. We tucked in to dinner. Jasper seemed relaxed, but I saw the tension in his muscles and the way he kept eyeing Annie across the table. I knew they would be talking late into the night, in their room or under the stars, somewhere we could just hear the hints of their words, whispers as soft as wind.

  Later that evening, when Annie was cleaning up after dinner with Harriet, I went outside to catch some air and run the activities of the day over in my mind. I heard the door open, heard Jasper’s measured footsteps crunching on the leaves and pebbles in the clearing before the cabin.

  “Cass,” he said, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Annie told me what happene
d. Are you all right?”

  This was what I loved most about Jasper. No matter how young I was, he always spoke to me as an adult, as a person who mattered with opinions and insights worth hearing. His gentle manner and obvious concern always made me feel special.

  “They just asked questions,” I said, picking at my shawl. I don’t know why I was so self-conscious, but his eyes were probing and I felt like he saw everything I didn’t want to show, like my newfound anxiety.

  “I’m surprised they waited this long,” he said. He scratched at the dark green stubble adorning his chin. “In truth, I’m surprised they were that gentle, considering…”

  “Considering?” I asked.

  He swallowed, seemed to come to a decision. “Cassandra, you know that not everyone likes the way things are, and some people act out, do dangerous things to try to change it. Your father is one of them. They’ll be watching us closely now. There will be more visitors and more questions, and now we’ll need them to focus on you so they don’t see what we are hiding in our fields. It’s a lot to ask of you.”

  “It’s okay. I understand,” I said. And I did. I understood why there was attention on me. I knew who my father was. With my him ghosting his way around the territory, making things hard for the company, of course, they would pin their hopes on finding him here, visiting his only child, if only to lurk in shadows or check in occasionally.

  “There’s something else I want to talk to you about. Imogen has decided to school Ianthe at home. She said you’d be welcome to learn at her table. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

  In truth, I hadn’t been to the school in town more than a handful of times after my accident. Annie needed help around the homestead, and though my injury happened years before, I was still very uncomfortable around the other kids. I was nervous about being attacked again, and when Ianthe wasn’t present, I felt exposed and anxious. Furthermore, I had problems reading, the letters always swimming across the page. I needed more attention than Miss Mary could afford me. I still longed to learn, but it seemed nearly impossible, given the obstacles arrayed before me.