A Longer Fall (Gunnie Rose #2)(79)

Dan Brick showed up after four days, looking hard. Like he had his mind made up about what he wanted to say. When I saw him coming up the hill, I took off the wedding ring and put it on the table. It would set him off, and I couldn’t bear it. I met him outside the door.

“Don’t speak, Dan. It’s too soon,” I said. “And Eli is still here.”

Dan turned without a word and walked down the hill.

Eli had stood back from the window so Dan wouldn’t have to stand the sight of him, which was real thoughtful. But when I closed the door and turned back to Eli, he said, “What will you do about him?”

My ring was gone.

It was like a bucket of cold water thrown in my face. I shut my eyes and breathed hard for a minute. We would not talk about this, because there was no point. We would not speak words that really didn’t make a difference, because Eli had to leave. Besides, I didn’t know how he really saw me. I wasn’t like the women he knew.

It took me a big twist of pain to say, “I’ll take care of it after you leave.”

And we both fell silent for a long time.

The next two days weren’t as nice. I waited for him to tell me, and maybe he was waiting for me to tell him something, beg him, announce that I would not let him go. But I knew he would leave. He had family in San Diego. He had those sisters to marry off, his mother to care for, his brother still in grigori school. He knew all this as well as I did.

Still, when Eli told me he would leave the next day, after I’d returned from a quick visit to my mother, I had to turn my face away from him. We were in bed. We had just been together. I had seen fireworks.

“When?” I said, when I was sure my voice would be normal.

“I went to the stable while you were gone. I can ride to the station. Someone’s coming in on the train who can bring the horse back here.”

“All right then,” I said, trying to sound brisk. “I’ll make you some food for a basket to eat on the train.”

“Aren’t you going to talk to me?”

“I am not.” I could not think of what to say. Or maybe I was thinking of too many things. “I’m glad you stayed awhile. You should be strong now.” I forced the words out.

“You’re always strong,” he said in a brooding kind of way, and then he pretended to go to sleep.

I lay awake too, and stared into the darkness.

I got up early. The sun was not yet up. I wanted this to be over with, because it was so painful. I gritted my teeth and made breakfast and packed Eli a bag with some fruit and bread in it. I had a canteen I could spare. I filled it with water and put it in the bag, too. He was eating at the table, not saying a word.

When Eli was through, he gathered up every item and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, and the smaller bag, too. Then he looked at me, helpless. “They’re going to be coming here, Lizbeth,” he said. “You tell them I’m long gone. They’ll search your house for me, maybe.”

“Go on,” I said, jerking my head at the door. Eli stepped forward aiming to hug me, but I said, “No.” I was gathering myself all up to get through him walking out the door.

And he left.

I collapsed onto the bench by the table and strained hard to keep myself together. I worked and worked at it, and I did it.

The next day the grigoris showed up at my door.

It was two men, one English and one Russian. The Russian was almost as tall as Eli, and his name was Simon. The English one was Godfrey.

“May we come in?” Godfrey asked, real polite.

“No,” I said. “You want to sit on the bench out here, you can, but you’re not coming in.”

“We could spell our way in,” said Simon.

“You think your presence here hasn’t been noticed?” I said.

They both looked irritated, and they swapped glances.

“We had heard that our brothers Felix and Eli might be here,” Godfrey said, not nearly as politely. “One of them, anyway.”

“Neither,” I said. “Last time I saw Felix and Eli, they were driving away in a real dump of a car, going back to San Diego.” At least, I figured that had been Felix’s destination. I just tacked on Eli. Seemed safer.

“When are they coming back?”

“Never,” I said, in as level a voice as I could manage. “Never.”

Then I was in a tunnel in the dirt, and a mongoose was coming in after me. I was tiny and the mongoose was huge, and it was going to bite me in two. When I came to myself I had my gun at Godfrey’s temple.

“You do that again, I’ll shoot you through the brain,” I said. “Who told you Eli and Felix were here?”

“A man named Dan got drunk in a bar last night. Simon and I were there,” Godfrey said, smiling. “Dan is despairing of ever regaining your love. Please move your gun away from my head.”

“What are you made of?” Simon asked, all suspicion.

“I’m made of pissed-off and real-tired-of-you,” I said. “I answered your question. You get off my land and away from my town. I guess Dan didn’t tell you he’s never spent the night here. He’s never had any love of mine in the first place.”

The grigoris looked at each other, like, A man with a grudge. We should have asked more questions. They knew I was telling the truth. And Simon stepped to my open window and had him a quick look all around the cabin. He would not see any hint of Eli. I’d spent three hours this morning scrubbing everything in the bathroom and kitchen, dusting and polishing all the wood, washing the sheets (even now flapping on the clothesline in back), burning the garbage in the metal drum outside, mopping the floors.