Bull Mountain(13)

Kate pulled her hair back into a makeshift ponytail. “Okay, just assume Halford does buy that fairy tale, which he won’t, but assume that he does. Doesn’t giving up those thugs in Florida put him in a new set of crosshairs? Isn’t that how it works? Retaliation after retaliation, and it never stops.”

“Baby, the Burroughses have been able to keep ourselves protected from the bulk of federal law enforcement for more than a century. I think we can hold our own against some geeked-up motorheads.”

“We?” Kate said.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t think I do, Clayton. What I am clear on, though, is that you’re thinking of getting into bed with the same feds that killed one of your brothers already, to try and convince your other brother, the self-proclaimed hillbilly godfather of Bull Mountain, to just drop his lifelong criminal enterprise, and what? Go fishing?”

Clayton sank back into his pillow and rubbed his temples. He thought about the bottle of whiskey in the cupboard above the fridge. He’d been thinking about it a lot today. The idea of a drink always sounded better than the actual act of drinking itself. He’d quit drinking so he could have conversations like this one with his wife without ending up on the couch thinking about how to apologize for being an *, but still, it sounded good. Kate leaned in over him like a terrier. “Those bastards will get to go back to wherever the hell it is they came from, and you’ll end up cleaning the mess they make of our lives. You know all this already, Clayton. We went through this when Buckley died.” Kate was practically shouting now, and she took a minute to calm herself. “I know you want things to change up here. I do, too, especially now, but what makes you think this time is going to turn out any different than the last?”

“The agent I met this morning. This Holly guy. Something about him is different. He’s not like one of these high-speed super-cops that come up here thinking he can bulldoze a bunch of rednecks because he got high marks at the academy. He’s, I don’t know, Kate . . .” Clayton stumbled for the right word. “He’s genuine,” he finally said.

“Genuine,” Kate repeated coldly.

“Yes, I got a gut feeling. He’s done his homework on this thing and he’s figured out the right way to get it done. I think I trust this guy. I think I want to, anyway. If what he’s saying is true, this is a shot at doing some real good. I should at least try, right?”

Silence.

“Besides, they’re going to do this with or without me, so it makes sense for me to try, right?” It was the second time he’d asked that question and the second time she didn’t answer.

“Kate, right?”

Kate swiveled her legs out from under the quilted comforter and sat on the edge of the bed with her back to her husband. Clayton reached out to touch her, but decided against it.

Kate finally spoke but didn’t turn to face him. “I love you, Clayton. You know that. I knew what your family was when I met you and I hated it, but I loved you anyway. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to help it. Every cell in my body screamed at me to pack up and move as far away from this place—away from you—as possible. But I couldn’t. My heart wouldn’t let me. My mama told me not to marry you because of where you came from. Who you came from. I told her she was wrong. I knew it was a gamble, and I’m not ashamed to admit some part of me was even turned on by who you were. What girl doesn’t want to be swept away by the outlaw? So I stayed and I married you. You wanted something different for your life. Something honorable. It was the biggest leap of faith I ever made, and it scared me to death, but I did it anyway.”

“Baby, I know this.”

“Right. You do know this. But what you don’t know is that it still scares me to death. Yes, eleven years later I’m still scared that one night you’re going to come home and tell me you’ve decided to follow in your daddy’s footsteps or, worse, you’re not going to come home at all. Then I’m going to have to wonder if you’re buried in a holler somewhere next to everyone else your family didn’t agree with. Men with badges like yours killed Buckley, so I get it. You feel compelled to stop it from happening to Halford, too, but it’s not up to you to save anybody.”

“Baby . . .”

“Let me finish.” She turned to face him. “I’m your wife. I swore to stand by you for better or worse and I don’t take that vow lightly, and believe me, anything that puts us in direct contact with your lunatic brother is the very definition of worse. That being said, you do what you have to do. But hear me, Clayton Burroughs, I will not let some cop, no matter how genuine he is, drag you down a hole you can’t climb out of to help a man who doesn’t want or deserve your help.”

“He’s my brother, Kate.”

“He’s goddamn crazy, is what he is.”

“That doesn’t make him any less my brother. No less my family.”

“I’m your family now. I come first. That’s what you promised me when you put that ring on my finger, and you aren’t getting out of it. Ever. Do you hear me, Sheriff?”

“I hear you, woman.”

Clayton grabbed a handful of T-shirt and pulled her down on top of him. He loved it when she called him Sheriff. He pushed her down on her back and slid himself on top of her. That way, he wouldn’t have to look at the rafters.