Near the Bone(39)

“Griff,” C.P. said, and there was warning in his tone.

No, no, don’t say anything else, don’t make it worse, you need to run, you need to run now before William hurts you, he’s going to hurt you.

Mattie knew she ought to run herself, ought to run back to the cabin and grab the money and anything else and fly down the mountain now, before something terrible happened. But she was frozen with fear, with indecision. Should she run, thinking only of herself? Or should she stay, and try to stop William?

And how are you to stop him? You can’t stop him from hurting you.

“I don’t know how you could have seen my wife,” William said. “Because my wife has been in our home for the last two days, and if you saw her there then you came onto my private property. And if you came onto my private property and looked at my wife, who is also my property, then I have every right to defend what is mine.”

Mattie saw it before Griffin did, because she knew it was coming. The flat end of the shovel swung out and connected with Griffin’s ear. Griffin stumbled to one side of the path as C.P. and Jen shouted. William raised the shovel again.

He’s going to beat Griffin to death, Mattie thought, and then she was running before she knew what she was doing, but running toward the fight instead of away from it as she knew she ought to do.

“William! William! Stop!” she shouted.

William turned at the sound of her voice, the shovel ready to swing. His eyes were colder than she’d ever seen them, the deep freeze of winter settled there.

“Have you come to defend your lover, little whore?” William spat. “Did you let him inside our home to plow your fields while I was away?”

“No,” she said. “No, that didn’t happen. But William, listen, you can’t hurt them. If you hurt them then the police will come. You don’t want the police to come, do you? You don’t want anyone on the mountain. You told me so yourself.”

He hesitated for a moment. She saw him thinking, considering. Mattie eased around him, staying out of swinging distance of the shovel, and peered at Griffin. The side of his face was coated in blood, and Mattie was sorry for it, sorry he was hurt.

Jen and C.P. helped him up and dragged him backward, so that they, too, were out of William’s immediate reach.

Good, Mattie thought. Run. Run away now.

“William,” Mattie said. “Please. Let’s go home. Leave these people alone. They haven’t done anything to you.”

“He dallied with my wife. Is that not an offense?”

“No, William, he didn’t. They came to the cabin but I didn’t open the door. I didn’t do anything.”

“She didn’t, man. She only opened the window and she wouldn’t even come near it. She kept telling us we should leave the mountain,” C.P. said, then added in a lower tone, “Now I know why.”

Mattie knew that no matter what happened, William would beat her. There wasn’t anything she could do to avoid that now. But if the others could get away she would be satisfied.

Let them escape, she thought. If they escape they’ll surely tell the police what they saw here, and then they’ll come and take you from William.

For a moment she faltered. William had always told her that no one would separate them, not even the police, so she shouldn’t run away because they would just return her to him. Mattie belonged to William.

He lied. Of course he lied. He wanted you to stay in the cabin, sweet and good and compliant.

“You should leave,” Mattie said to the three strangers. Griffin was struggling to his feet, swaying a little. “Just leave now, please. Get off the mountain.”

“What about you?” Griffin said.

“She’s my wife,” William snarled. “She’s no concern of yours.”

“It is if you’re going to beat her to death with that shovel!” Griffin said, starting toward William. C.P. grabbed the cloth of Griffin’s jacket and pulled him back.

“Please,” Mattie said. “Why won’t you listen to me? Please leave before something terrible happens.”

“Shut your mouth, Martha. You go back to the cabin and wait for me like you’re supposed to. I’ll deal with you after them.”

Something snapped inside her, a strand of buried anger that she’d been barely aware existed.

“I’m not Martha. That’s the name you called me, but it isn’t who I am.”

William stilled, the muscles in his face rippling under the skin. “Your name is Martha.”

“Samantha,” Griffin said. “Samantha. That’s it!”

Everyone turned to look at him, his shout of realization completely out of place.

“Samantha! Samantha Hunter! I saw a picture of you on the news, one of those aged-up things they do in the computer, because it was the twelfth anniversary of . . .”

He faltered, a new realization in his eyes as he looked at William.

“Hey, that’s right!” C.P. said, peering at Mattie. “Now I remember, too. They said you were . . . Oh, shit.”

“What did they say?” Mattie asked.

“Don’t say another word, boy,” William said. His fingers were white on the handle of the shovel. “Don’t say another word.”

“What did they say?” Mattie asked again. “What did they say about me?”