The River Widow(51)

The dirt roads were dry, and by the time her rounds were nearly complete, she was bathed in a layer of fine dust, her skin gritty and her hair hanging. She had dropped off a basket of clean laundry for one family and had picked up a dirty one from another, which she had then dropped off at home. Now, back out and exhausted, as she turned from the road up to his drive, she saw him sitting on the front porch as if he was waiting for her.

At first, he didn’t move as she approached, but then he stood as she came nearer, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. Jack was becoming handsomer the longer she knew him; each time she laid eyes on him, she found more to like and explore. Lester, on the other hand, had over time become ugly in her eyes.

Jack said, “I was hoping to see you today.”

Adah stopped at the bottom of his porch steps. “Yes, I’m sorry. I should’ve been here yesterday.”

He squinted. “Are you avoiding me?”

Adah removed her hat and let the air touch her forehead, closing her eyes for a moment, remembering: Your hair is chocolate. “I’m avoiding the heat.”

He gazed out to the sky and the burning yellow hole of hazy sun. “We are having quite the early heat spell, aren’t we?”

Adah opened her eyes and looked at him. “Do you have a basket for me?”

Jack nodded once and went inside through the screen door, then came back out carrying the basket of laundry. He set it down and reached into his chest pocket, retrieving something. “I got these for you.” He opened his hand and revealed a set of worn tarot cards held together with a rubber band.

The breath caught in Adah’s chest, and her eyes flicked upward to his face. “Where did you get them?”

“Bought ’em off a trinket trader passing through. Thought you might like them.”

Adah took the deck and ran her fingers across the back of the top card as she gazed at the filigreed design. How many hands had touched these cards? How many fortunes had been read using them? How many lies had they told? How many truths had they revealed?

“Will you read for me?” Jack asked.

Adah’s head jerked up. Then she shook it fervently.

“Why not?”

“Have you ever taken a reading?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t want to.”

He eyed her curiously. “Tell me why not.”

She sighed and replaced the hat on her head. “It’s nothing. It’s everything. Most often the cards say nothing of importance and are simply a means to predict something that may or may not happen. Other times I’ve found them to be accurate, often when it’s the most important thing. But there’s no way to know if something mystical has intervened or if it’s just gibberish. Once you’ve had a reading, however, you’ll always wonder.”

“You say sometimes the reading is valid?”

Her arms remained at her sides as she lifted one shoulder. “Yes.”

“Then I’m willing to take my chances.”

Fatigue began to seep out of Adah’s marrow. Why did people want to hear about the future, even when the odds were against knowing anything? Blood draining from her face, she turned and sank down onto the lowest porch step, removed her hat again, put her elbows on her knees, and rested her forehead in her open palms.

Jack’s voice had changed into a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d like the cards. I figured a present might do you some good.” She heard him laugh in an ironic way. “Guess I’m not much adept at wooing a woman. Guess it weren’t such a good idea after all.”

Eyes still closed, she barely breathed as she realized that she had hurt his feelings. A radiance emanated from Jack now, and it was all too evident that she had been wrong about him in the beginning. He’d been wary of her just as she’d been wary of him, both of them wrapped in a protective shield that was slowly peeling away. Every little layer that fell from Jack revealed something unexpectedly sweet.

“It was very thoughtful, Jack. Thank you.” Jack didn’t make any sounds of movement or say a word, and when Adah lifted her head, she breathed out, “I found evidence of moonshining because of what you said. Thank you for that, too.”

“I see,” he said slowly, as if forcing himself to change the subject along with her. “What will you do about it?”

Now Adah was the one having to stick to the new subject at hand. The sound of his voice was like a salve, a healing salve. For the first time in a long time, someone cared about what she thought and felt, and the result was like a sip of Kentucky bourbon—a velvety warmth in her chest. “I don’t know yet. I could go to the police, but I figure Buck and Jesse must have at least a few friends on the force.”

Jack nodded. “Most likely they’ve paid off a couple of them to be left alone. And if you happened to be unlucky and ended up speaking to one who’s in on the action—”

“It would do me more harm than good. Again,” Adah finished for him.

“I’d be willing to bet most of the police are on the up-and-up, but you’d never know.”

“So what use is it to know they’re making moonshine?”

“It’s always best to know as much as possible. Just wait and watch. Something might come up.”

She was so tired now. How had she made her way here? And how would she ever escape from the Branches? She glanced up to see a tiny bit of trembling at the corner of Jack’s mouth. Kindness intensified all that she’d been feeling, and a silent sob seeped from her mouth. She swallowed against a thickening sensation at the back of her throat. Something hot and urgent prickled under her eyelids. And then she did something she’d never imagined she’d do, not while sitting on a quiet porch, especially not in front of another person, and never with such great heaving movements racking her body. Whether she cried for herself or for Daisy, it didn’t matter; it was all the same.