"I need to go to church before I go back."
"Pardon," Raylan was bleary eyed when Clare knocked on the motel room door at 7 that morning. Tim having left after sticking a Post-It to the mirror that Raylan hadn't bothered to read yet.
"Before Lexington, I have to go to church," she repeated, holding a cup of coffee out to him, "It's black and I have to see Chris while I'm here."
Raylan pretended to nod his understanding as he drank the sacred liquid. After a moment, it was in his bloodstream, "Your brother. Chris. The priest. Ok, yeah, sure. We can do that."
Lidet watched his eyes for another moment reminding Raylan of his headache and Tim's comment about her being psychic. She could certainly be creepy, studying him like that. He returned the favor. She had circles under her eyes, but seemed a lot more peaceful than she'd been the previous night. Her threadbare clothes today consisted of jeans, black Converse, and a Who Dat Nation tee, with a thin gray hoodie hanging, folded on her bag. She finally asked, "You need to back to sleep?"
He sighed, "Doesn't matter. I'm up now. If you give me a few I can hunt down Tim and we'll go. You wanna see your uncle 'fore we leave?"
"Ducked out late last night for a visit. He's covered. Thanks," she turned to go.
Raylan leaned out to say, "Thanks for the heads up-and the coffee, doc. I'll meet you by the lobby, ok?"
She nodded her acknowledgement.
Closing the door, Raylan wondered why she bothered with the heads up.
Tim had gone to the local high school to run just after he woke at six, he'd beaten the cross country team and chatted with their coach and a couple of seniors thinking about the Army for about half an hour -breaking their hearts that no terrain was as easy and flat as the state of Louisiana, but the heat was great for their endurance, if it didn't kill them first- before going back to the motel for breakfast. Only for Raylan to be awake and grumbling under his breath about people who wake up too damn early.
Raylan glowered at him and he pressed him lips together.
***
Stepping into Our Lady of the Rosary, Raylan removed his hat and Tim fought the urge to snicker at his current uncomfortable expression, as they followed Clare. Morning Mass, well, any Mass, was not Clare's favorite but she slunk into the last pew while her brother intoned in Latin the Lord's virtues. At least that's where she thought they were in the service, it had been a while.
Communion was perversely satisfying in that Father Christopher Lidet forgot what he was doing for a second when he saw his fugitive sister, grinning wickedly, accepting the body and blood of Christ. She returned to Tim and Raylan with her shoulders quivering.
"You are five years old," Tim whispered.
"And a half," she managed to squeak out before dissolving in giggles, to the derision of the other handful of congregants.
The marshals shook their heads.
After Mass, Chris took his time greeting his parishioners before coming over. Chris was a pretty big guy. About Raylan's height, but wider in general, Chris scooped his baby sister in a bear hug and swung her around, to more giggles, as soon as he got there. Then he told Clare that sanctuary was only a temporary option. She responded only by introducing Raylan and Tim.
Shaking hands, Chris offered them both a wry look before hugging his sister again.
Clare, for her part, was unrecognizable. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, grinning insanely, and looking...completely relaxed. Like a different person. "Just wanted to say hi before I leave for Kentucky."
"Excuse us," Chris pulled her away from the marshals. "Why you gotta go again, babe?" he took her hands, "Let it end. Stay home and live your life, now you have it back."
She brushed his cheek with her knuckles, "I gotta finish this. Someone stole three years of my life and puts a price on my head. I gotta know why. I'll be careful-"
"My a-butt," he exclaimed, drawing enough attention to pull Clare further to the back, "You have never been careful a day in your life, petite soeur. Do not give me that bull."
"I'll have marshals protecting me-"
"While you play bait? Is that your plan?"
"Yes," she answered anticlimactically, squeezing her lips together.
"Oh, Holy Lord."
Tim and Raylan, despite their amusement, interrupted. "Dr. Lidet will be under Marshal protection-"
Chris snorted his own interruption, "Doctor! Protection? Ya'll couldn't find her for three years after losing her in a National Park!" He took a deep breath, "I know her well enough, that it reflects more on her than ya'll but, she's my baby sister."
"I can hear you," Clare cut in.
He ignored her, continuing, "So, unless you can guarantee the safety of everything but her vocal cords, I have a problem with dangling her as bait, Marshals."
Clare looked back at them, "Isn't he sweet?"
"Mom and Dad are revolving in their graves right now. You know that, right?"
"At least until they get up to yell at me and start the zombie apocalypse," she agreed with a grin.
Chris emitted a long suffering sigh, "A zombie apocalypse would be your fault." Shaking his head, "Take care of my sister, no matter how nuts she drives ya."
She smirked, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek. "I love you too, dork. But I gotta go. Love you."
"Love you," he mussed her hair, "Get outta here. Brat." She left quickly and Chris had tears in his eyes while waving the Marshals out.
Catching up with Clare, she had tears too. Both Raylan and Tim opted to ignore it and hurried to meet the flight.