Outlawed(39)

“Even if we survive the robbery,” Elzy cut in, “and we’re somehow able to con the bankers into selling, do you think the good people of Fiddleback are going to welcome us with open arms? Are they going to rejoice that their new landlords are a gang of barren women?”

“You’re right,” the Kid said. “Buying the bank will be only the beginning.”

The Kid said this as though it was exciting, eyes ablaze with nervous energy.

“The bank in Hannibal took half my daddy’s wages every single month,” Lo said. “Then they took all of it. Then they took our house. Are we going to do that?”

News spoke up before the Kid could. “In my town ordinary people ran the bank,” she said. “There was a board and every year we had elections. One year my daddy served. That year everyone in town got a dividend. We spent ours on new storm shutters.”

Lo rolled her eyes. “I’m sure they were very nice,” she said. “I hope they kept you dry while my family was begging on the Blackwater River Road.”

“You know what happened to my family, Lois Ann,” News shot back. “Don’t pretend you’re the only one who knows about suffering.”

The Kid’s voice cut through their argument. “Cassie, I want to hear what you think.”

Cassie squeezed Elzy’s hand, and let it go. She took a breath.

“You know I never liked this idea in the first place, trying to bring more people in. But I listened to you, I looked at your maps, I fed everyone while you made your plans. I did it out of respect, and I did it out of love. And now this—”

She paused, choosing her words. Elzy watched her.

“These thirteen years, when I’ve fallen into despair, your spirit has sustained me. You saw this place when I couldn’t. You built it in your mind, and now we live here. But this, Kid, it’s a castle in the air—there’s no foundation to it.”

The Kid nodded curtly. “Very well, you’ve registered your opposition. Is everyone else so unwilling to take a chance?”

Then Agnes Rose was talking over Elzy and Lo was yelling at News and Texas was trying to calm Lo but then yelling at News too.

“Doc,” the Kid said through the chatter. “You’ve been keeping your own counsel. Will you join us as we take the land that was promised to us?”

“Oh no,” said Cassie. Her voice had been calm before but now I could hear the rage rumbling underneath it. “Don’t you call on her to help you now.”

“The doctor is an equal member of our company,” the Kid said evenly.

Cassie shook her head. “I’m starting to see why you wanted more people here in the first place,” she said.

I was ashamed—even now Elzy was worrying at her bad hand with her good hand, moving the thumb back and forth as though she could wake up the nerves. And I knew that no one here owed me any particular kindness. But also I was angry. For months, I’d been accepting the smallest bowl of grits and the sludgy dregs of the coffee; I’d been silent when Cassie passed Lo the whiskey right across me at the firepit, when Texas piled other horses’ shit into Amity’s stall for me to clean. I’d done nothing but try to make up for what I’d done, and I’d asked for nothing, not even respect or consideration, in return. I was tired of asking for nothing.

“Do you want me to leave, Cassie?” I asked. “If you want me to go, you should say so.”

Cassie didn’t even look at me. She kept talking to the Kid.

“I think perhaps you just want people you can easily control,” she said.

“Friend of my heart,” said the Kid, “you shouldn’t say things you can’t take back.”

“You’re leading us astray, Kid,” Cassie said quietly. There were tears in her eyes. “I think you know it.”

The two stared at each other across the great room. For a moment the blaze behind the Kid’s eyes faltered.

Then the Kid turned away from Cassie to look at me, Agnes Rose, and News. “Some among us may not want to share our haven with others,” the Kid said. “Some of us believe that having secured a measure of comfort for ourselves, we should turn a blind eye to the suffering of others.”

“Kid, that’s not—” Cassie began.

The Kid talked over her.

“But surely there are enough of us with the generosity of spirit to do better. Surely some of us want to aid others who suffer the way we have suffered. And surely some of us know that though we may fail in our attempt, we at least have the obligation to try.”

Cassie stood up from her cot.

“I’m going to make some grits so we can all eat,” she said. “Go ahead and decide without me. You clearly don’t care what I think anyway.”

She left the door swinging on its hinges so that Lo had to jump up to close it, and by then a half inch of snow had settled over the floor.

Cassie’s words rang in my ears. Looking around at the others who remained in the great room, I could almost see them begin to pull apart from one another and from the Kid. I felt fear rise in my throat—if the gang were to split in some sort of mutiny, what would become of me?

“Perhaps we could all use some time to reflect,” the Kid said. “Let’s pause in our deliberations and resume after breakfast.”