The Steep and Thorny Way(36)

Joe and I stayed still and listened to the sounds of their retreat. Chuckles and derogatory words—words clearly meant for the two of us to hear—traveled past the location of the small log cabin and then off to the west. I flinched at each sickening term directed toward me, while Joe kept his breath held tightly at the insults meant for him. The words pelted my gut like fireballs, and I wished I could think of a phrase dirty and demeaning enough to hurl back at them.

Joe let go of my hand and grabbed up his belongings at our campsite. “Let’s pack up and get out of here.”

I strapped the holster around my leg and fetched the basket and blanket.

We took off at a brisk pace, toward the east.

A half mile or so later, after hopping over tree roots and skedaddling down deer paths, Joe took hold of my wrist and pulled us both behind the thick trunk of a fir. I panted to catch my breath, and he put his fingers to his lips and said, “Shh. I want to hear if they’re following.”

I closed my mouth and attempted to breathe without making a sound, but the air rustling through my nostrils came out as a windstorm. Some sort of animal with brown fur shook through a bush beside us and made us both gasp.

Joe loosened his grip on my wrist and cursed under his breath.

“I don’t hear them,” I whispered. “Do you?”

He shook his head.

“Joe,” I said in a voice so strained and quiet it hurt my throat. “I’m sorry I started crying.”

He wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I should have grabbed your gun instead of letting them talk to us that way.”

“No, it would have just made things worse if you fired at one of them. And they had knives . . .”

“That cabin was theirs.” He swallowed. “I should have known from all the naked pictures and cigarettes. I bet they hide all their vices from their mother out there.”

“Uncle Clyde knows their father—he’s the pharmacist.”

Joe readjusted his hold on the lantern. “I’m sure he knows him for other reasons, as well.”

With that, he took off into the hedges. Branches scraped across his sides and tugged at his shirt, and I followed him, running away yet again.


A HALF HOUR OR SO LATER, I REALIZED WE WERE HEADING south, toward Fleur’s property . . . and my family’s property. My brain had been reeling too much to notice the morning sunlight of the east peeking through the trees to our left.

“Wait!” I dropped the basket in a patch of mushrooms. “You’re leading me back home?”

Joe swiveled on his right heel and faced me with the carpetbag and lantern in hand. “I don’t want them thinking they chased us out of the state.”

“But—”

“We’ll starve without food and supplies. And meanwhile, Clyde Koning will be sitting comfortably in your house—alive, healthy, and free.”

I brushed my right hand through my hair, which had come loose from the pins I’d slept in all night. “He knows I accused him of murder, Joe. I can’t go back to him.”

“Put the blame on me for everything. Tell them I seduced you.”

“I don’t think . . .” I shook my head. “No . . . What if he knows you’re not attracted to women?”

“Everyone always assumes this is something I can change. We can use that. Stick with the elopement story, but say you got cold feet and wanted to return to your mother. Apologize.”

“But—”

“We’re still better off taking care of the doc if you’re in the house with him.” Joe walked toward me, his ankles brushing through the grasses. “If we stay out here in the woods, we’re just going to end up getting scared and fleeing the state.”

Without warning, a startling pop-pop-pop-pop-pop ricocheted across the tops of the trees.

I ducked and cried out, “What’s that?”

“Some early fireworks, probably.” Joe looked toward the sky. “I think it’s the Fourth of July.”

“Oh.” I straightened back up. “I forgot about that.” I relaxed my shoulders a hair of an inch. “If I go back home, where are you going to stay? You can’t go back to the Paulissens’ shed.”

“I know.”

I sighed again. “We have an old stable at the edge of our property. Other than harvesting berries, we don’t farm or raise animals anymore, now that Uncle Clyde takes care of us. You can stay in there if you’d like.”

He readjusted his grip on the carpetbag. “And do what?”

“Figure out how to make things right.”

His mouth twitched in reaction to my words. Using the back of his hand that held the lantern, he nudged away the lock of hair that was always falling over his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He lowered the lantern to his side. “You’re off the idea of killing him, aren’t you?”

“I can’t poison him, Joe. I’m considering becoming a lawyer.”

“Hmm”—he tapped his bag against the side of his right shin—“I’ve always heard that unscrupulousness is a prerequisite for becoming a lawyer.”

I frowned. “I’m not joking. I want to become a force this state has to reckon with, not a fugitive it’s required to kill.”