The Wolf Road (9 page)

“Thank you kindly but no,” I said, “though I’d be glad of a drink of water.”

Keep your manners friendly, Trapper always told me, but keep your wits sharp, ain’t no telling what kind of folk live in these woods. I never figured he was talking about himself.

Matthews set down a small glass a’ crystal cool water and said, “This is mineral water, it’ll set you right.”

I weren’t right sure what
mineral water
was and why it was different from the normal stuff out the river but it was cold and it hit my throat like rain on dust. I drank it all in one long breath and quick forgot my manners. I slammed that glass on the table and belched hearty, loud enough to rival any man.

Matthews didn’t do nothing ’cept smile at me and nod.

“I apologize, fella,” I said, “I didn’t mean nothin’ by that, I just ain’t had no water all day and sometimes you just can’t control your urges. Damn, that chili sure smells good.”

He took the glass off the table, holding it real delicate ’tween two fingers and said, “I know how that is, young lady, and I take no offense. In fact, I take it as a compliment.”

I smiled a bit at him but I confess I felt heat in my cheeks and I’m sure they went red as cherries. Matthews pulled out a chair opposite and sat down.

“Have you been to Halveston before?”

“No,” I said. “I’m travelin’ north, lookin’ to find some folks I ain’t seen in a few years. Wondered if they might a’ passed this way.” I weren’t quite sure what to tell him, he seemed kind enough, seemed friendly and sweet, but I didn’t know him from a hole in the ground.

Wafting smell of that chili sent shivers through me.

He nodded again. Did that a lot, I was noticing. “I don’t get many visitors.”

“This would a’ been summer ’bout fifteen years back. Lady and her fella heading up to them gold fields.”

Part a’ me hated giving out so much, but the part a’ me what still played my momma’s letter in my head when I was trying to sleep hoped to high heaven he’d a’ seen ’em. Least so’s maybe he could tell me what they looked like. Nana kept magazines like they was sacred but didn’t keep no photographs of her own daughter.

Matthews leaned back in his chair and puffed out his cheeks, then he scratched at the back a’ his head. “Fifteen years. That’s a long time to remember strangers. But you say they went for gold?”

I nodded.

“That was the summer we finished building the church over in Martinsville. We had a few travelers pass through our doors in those months.”

Felt a swell a’ hope in me. Martinsville was one a’ them words in the letter.

When he spoke again he spoke slower, kept his eyes on me when before he’d been staring at the ceiling like it had all them memories stored in its rafters.

“We had mostly men, groups of four or five friends who pooled their time and resources. Had a few on their own, idealistic, foolish. Then, yes, I do remember a couple now I think on it. Can’t remember their names, but they were looking for Halveston too. She was pretty, the wife,” then he laughed a bit and said, “That’s right. I remember her because she called it the Great YK. Never heard the old Yukon called great before.”

More words out my momma’s letter. Must a’ been grinning ’cause Matthews shut up and stared at me.

Then he said, in a strange flat voice. “Were they your parents?”

Something in his tone made me not want to answer, but he must a’ read my face. He was quiet, looked at me with a mix a’ pity and pleasure. Weren’t at all sure what to make of him.

Then he got up and went to a tall bookshelf on the other side of the room. From the gap ’tween shelf and wall, he pulled out a roll of paper and spread it on the eating table. A map of BeeCee and North and a bunch of other places I couldn’t figure. It didn’t have no scribblings on it like Nana’s.

“We’re here,” he said, and poked his spindle finger at a black dot surrounded by a whole lot a’ nothing.

I picked out the ridge I climbed down and the Mussa and farther south another dot I guessed was Dalston, though it could a’ been Ridgeway. On that map, I hadn’t traveled more’n a knuckle length, and when I looked at the North, big and vast and more nothing, that put the fear in me.

“That Martinsville?” I said, pointing to a dot with a little black cross on the top.

Another nod and smile. I wondered brief if he could do anything different with his face.

“Your parents, they went to cash in on the second rush?”

I said yes, sir, they did. “I heard that durin’ the Damn Stupid, them fools dropped a heap of bombs in the wrong place, cut up the land something nasty and unearthed a bunch more of that yellow metal.”

Matthews sat back down and stroked his chin like he was stroking a cat. “That’s right. That’s a long way. That dot there, that’s Halveston.” That one was way, way up in the empty part a’ the map. “How are you going to get there by yourself? That’s a good few hundred miles.”

I scrunched up my face. What kind of asking was that? ’Sides, that mention a’ hundreds a’ miles worried me down deep but I weren’t ’bout to let it show. Walking is walking, one mile or a hundred, it ain’t no different. Least that’s what I told myself.

“I got two legs, ain’t I? Don’t need nothin’ more.”

Nod, nod, nod, like a dunce watching a ball of string.

“Except food,” he said, looking at his pot of chili, “and water.” Then he looked at the empty glass. Then he looked at me.

I felt squirmy then. My chair didn’t offer comfort no more. “I’m just caught in a bad run of luck is all, I can fend fine. I just, well…I just had a bad run is all.”

Matthews smiled, right through his eyes again, and tapped the table. “Say your thanks to the Lord that you found me then.”

Then he got up and went to the bubbling chili pot. My belly gurgled loud enough for him to turn and raise an eyebrow.

He ladled a bowlful and set it steaming down right in front a’ me with a one a’ them silvery spoons. Didn’t take none for himself.

“Eat up, don’t let it go cold,” he said.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I burned my mouth quick but I didn’t care. That chili, spicy and meaty and full of black beans, was like heaven came down on me and said, Elka, you’re gonna be fine. Get used to this luxury, you got it waiting for you in the North.

Then I heard a horse galloping down the track. More’n one horse. My stomach tightened up. Matthews’s face turned dark and stormy. With not one word he got up, got his gun, and went to the door. I kept chewing. No matter what was about to happen, I’d eat as much as I could afore shots fired.

“Ho, there,” Matthews whooped, and flung open the door, set his gun down. Horses was still clomping up the track.

I was side-on with the entrance, could see a bit outside without seeming like I was looking. Matthews stood on the threshold then looked back at me. His face, caught in that half-light ’tween out and in, took on a demon’s grin. I felt a tremble up in my chest and went back to my chili.

Matthews had one a’ them crucifixes above the door, like God was blessing him every time he took a step outside. Cowardly was what I thought of that; God ain’t going to protect you if you can’t do it yourself. Then I squinted against the light, gave a little chuckle. Crucifix was upside down. God ain’t going to bless no one what can’t even nail a bit of wood straight.

I shook my head, ate my chili, and checked over that map. Little towns marked by red dots, bigger ones marked by black squares. Didn’t see too many black squares ’tween me and the North. Just a handful of red dots and a whole bunch of wild. I was grateful for that, didn’t much like towns, didn’t much like people. Can never tell what a person’s thinking, you see. They could be meaning to kill or kiss you and you’d never know till they gone and done it.

Near the top of the map, Matthews had shaded out a big section of the old territory. I figured that was where the Damn Stupid bombs went off. There was one red dot near that, but I didn’t know the letters, couldn’t name the town.

Horses stopped.

I finished up my food, scraping the bowl for every bit. Then I let out a rolling belch. That was some fine food and my stomach said its thanks.

I heard talking outside. Woman’s voice what I knew. What in the good goddamn was Lyon doing here? She follow me here? She track me all this way? Or was it just this was the only place ’tween Mussa and them big mountains? Had Lady Chance brought this pale demon to me or was Lyon better’n I ever thought? All them questions but no answers in my thick head. Suddenly all that food wanted to come right back up into the bowl. I got up quick and pressed my back ’gainst the wall behind the door.

“Reverend Matthews?” Magistrate Lyon said. That voice sent shivers through me. Ice-cold woman with an ice-cold voice.

Stomach churned up that chili with a big ol’ gutful a’ fear.

Didn’t hear Matthews answer, figured he must a’ nodded.

Heard the creak of a saddle what said the rider was dismounting.

“Do you know who I am, Reverend?” Lyon said.

“Yes ma’am, I do.”

“I’m looking for two people,” she said, and it felt like a big rock hit the side a’ my head. Two people.

“This man,” she said, heard the crumble a’ paper and figured she was showing Matthews that charcoal face a’ Kreagar. “Have you seen him?”

“My word, that’s a face I’d remember,” Matthews said, “I sure haven’t seen anyone like that.”

“What about a girl?” she said, and all my muscles tensed up.

Matthews didn’t say nothing for a few seconds too long. Was he gonna give me up? Had he done it already? My eyes went frantic ’round that room for a back door or window but them storm shutters turned the place into a rat trap.

Then I heard footsteps, clink a’ spurs, then a heavy thud on the wooden step. “Mind if I take a look around?” Lyon said, so much closer now.

My hand went to my knife and I moved right behind the door. Them other two horses didn’t move, just heard them huffing. Their riders, I figured her two lieutenants, didn’t say nothing. This woman had her men trained like dogs, and I didn’t expect nothing less.

“Ma’am,” Matthews said, quick in his voice, quick in his step. “I think a lone goat like me would remember if he’d seen a girl.” Then he laughed.

A mite a’ relief crawled up in me. Matthews weren’t selling me out. Not yet.

Lyon moved and I could see her side-on through the skinny gap ’tween door and frame. Till that second I saw her, I didn’t right believe she was there. There’s miles a’ wild out there and she turns up here? That just said to me stay away from people, they draw in other people, it ain’t never safe. But she was here now. White skin like a china cup, all in black, not a hair out a’ place. She was taller’n Matthews and weren’t no hint of a slouch in her back. My back straightened up just seeing her again.

She didn’t say nothing else to him, just stared with them cold eyes a’ hers. Then she was at the door, half a step over the threshold. Close enough that I could smell the horse’s sweat on her. Heard her breathing. Slow and measured just like everything else. I reckoned that even if a bear chased her up and down a mountain, she wouldn’t breathe heavier than a whisper the whole time.

My hands got hot. My head got hot. She took a step inside and I couldn’t see her no more and that was worse.

“What does this girl look like?” Matthews said.

Floorboard the other side a’ the door creaked. “About so high, brown hair to her chin, brown eyes. Feral thing.”

My heart hammered and I prayed she wouldn’t hear it.

“Wearing a dark green coat?” Matthews said, and that heart a’ mine near stopped.

“Likely,” Lyon said, and came back so’s I could see her through the gap. “You’ve seen her?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen her,” he said, and I wondered brief if I could get the other side a’ this door and wring that scrawny neck afore Lyon shot me.

“What’s she done?” Matthews said.

Lyon smiled on one side of her mouth and that chilled me worse’n a midwinter blizzard. “She’s wanted in connection with several murders.”

Hell,
that
chilled me worse. I ain’t done nothing and it took all I had in me not to burst out from behind the door and shout that right in her smirking face.

“Oh dear, oh my,” Matthews was repeating, “and I fed her and gave her directions. I can’t believe it. She seemed uncivilized but harmless. God forgive me if she hurt anyone.”

“Where is she?” Lyon said, and there was a harder edge in her voice. It weren’t ice in there no more, it was iron.

“I sent her on her way not two days ago with mine and the good Lord’s blessing,” Matthews said, and I could a’ collapsed right then. “She said she was going to take the road west. To the coast, she said.”

Lyon’s eyes narrowed and I suddenly weren’t sure if she was believing all this.

“If you’re planning on sticking around,” Matthews said, “I’d love to see you in church this Sunday. Our services are rousing indeed. This week we’ll be bleeding a lamb for our Lord in exchange for a mild winter.”

I rolled my eyes. People what kill animals thinking God’s got control over the winds and the snow are more fools than any other in these lands.

Lyon gave a nod but it weren’t to Matthews. I guessed she was telling her lieutenants they was done. Then she strode off, down the steps, and quick mounted her horse.

“Keep your god,” Lyon said, all iron in them words. “The law has no place for God.”

She shouted
Yah!
at her horse and the three a’ them galloped off.

Matthews, no matter how much of a fool his god made him, had saved my skin, and when he came back inside I could a’ hugged him. I quick stowed my knife so’s he wouldn’t see it, then sat back down at the table.

“Hot damn,” I said, my heart still thudding in me, “I appreciate your words, sending Lyon on her way like that.”

Matthews stood in the middle a’ the room for a minute, not moving nothing ’cept his lips. Was like he was quiet praying for something. Then he filled up my empty glass and set it down in front a’ me. I drank it up while he stared, hard face on him. Expected him to ask me ’bout Kreagar or why Lyon was looking for me but he didn’t. Was like it didn’t matter. ’Stead he sat down at the table and asked me for my name. Lyon didn’t know it, so I didn’t see no harm.