Maedlyn turns the page. Lester was only a few minutes down the road from getting back to Maddy, but he ran into the Cooper brothers, and now they're in a shootout, bullets riddling the side of his '79 Dodge. It's one of the tensest parts of the book. But she's having a hard time giving it her full attention.
She pulls her blanket around her closer. It's still cooling down from the day, but there's a breeze and Maedlyn cares little for the cold. She frowns. That's not what's bothering her though.
She looks up from one of the two little chairs on her 'porch'-more of a landing, really. The sun is setting and her girl isn't home yet. Which is not normal. Not the first time, but not normal, nonetheless.
The street is quiet; all the talkin' and drinkin' is happening a few streets over at the Bison and Crow's Nest. She's heard they have some visitors in town, too. Uncommon occurrence, she wagers that has something to do with Ellie's tardiness. She promised she would come back after patrol.
And what does she spy but a lonely figure walking down the street with a familiar lope.
Maedlyn narrows her eyes. She knows that walk. It's not Ellie's normal stroll, the one Maedlyn finds particularly fine. She's walking with purpose. There's something on her mind.
Maedlyn stands up to receive her, pulling her blanket around her.
Ellie looks up at her once, briefly. Well, it seems she has the decency to be embarrassed.
Ellie walks most of the way up the stairs, stopping near the top. "Hey," she says in her husky voice.
"Hey there, ma'am," says Maedlyn.
Ellie's trying to gauge if she's in trouble.
"What kept you?" Maedlyn asks.
Ellie sniffs. "Um… there was… you might have heard… Look, first of all, I'm sorry I'm late, okay?"
She's not her usual self. There's something in her eyes. Something sad.
Maedlyn changes her tune. "Ellie, did something happen?"
Ellie's confused for a second, then she shakes her head. "No–no one got hurt, it's not like that. You heard about the outsiders?"
"Yeah, from my momma."
"I was the one that ran into them, out on the road."
That strikes an unpleasant chord in Maedlyn's chest. "What? Ellie–"
"Look, nothing happened. I talked to them, they came to town. They traded… they're down at the Bison drinking, right now. They're still there. I was late because… of procedure and then I just… wanted to watch them a little, see what they were up to."
Maedlyn tightens the blanket to herself. "Did you have to do that?"
"I did," says Ellie with purpose.
"Are they trouble?"
Ellie screws up her face, but then shakes her head. "Not… not really. I just don't like strangers so much. These days."
"Oh… Ellie get up here now."
Ellie moves the last couple steps up to the landing, puts her hands on Maedlyn's arms and pulls her in for a kiss. Maedlyn lets it wash down her chest and then opens her eyes. A couple of Ellie's locks are hanging over her forehead and temple. Her green eyes are the ones she knows. No new scars, that's always good. She's just where she ought to be.
So why are her eyes hurting?
Ellie seems to notice something, so Maedlyn brushes her lips with her thumb. "Well, I'm just glad you're home, then. Though I do sometimes wish you had a safer job."
"I know, babe," says Ellie softly. She gestures to the chairs on Maedlyn's 'porch.' "Sun's still setting. Want to sit down for a while?"
Maedlyn kinda wants to be inside where it's warm, but she'll gladly indulge Ellie. Plus the sunset is particularly good tonight.
They settle down in their chairs–Maedlyn on the right, Ellie on the left, as usual–but not before Ellie nestles Maedlyn deeper in her blanket, taking care to cover her neck with the folds. Maedlyn smiles in thanks.
The sky is a masterpiece of gold, rose and violet. A few wispy clouds trail over it all, catching the last of the sun's light. It's a delight.
They sit in silence for a few minutes.
"So, why don't you tell me what happened today?" Maedlyn asks.
Ellie hesitates, only for a second. Then she relays a particularly uncomfortable story that, by Maedlyn's estimate, could have ended very differently and much worse.
"Ellie–"
"I know Mads, I know," says Ellie. "Look, it wasn't ideal, but I did the best thing I could at the time."
"Poor Jonah must have been sweating."
Of all things, that actually makes Ellie laugh. "Oh, he was."
"Shouldn't they have been spotted from farther away? Isn't that what they do up on the walls?"
"Well…" Ellie scratches the back of her head. "Yeah, Mads, when they're within a couple miles. Beyond that, I'm exactly the person who's supposed to find them. That's what we do on patrol."
Maedlyn pulls the blanket tighter around her, a dissatisfied expression on her face.
Ellie looks empathetic, but she doesn't say anything.
Maedlyn simmers a bit. Ellie's work is one of the few topics of conversation they don't agree on too well. Maedlyn doesn't care for it, but Ellie is well relied upon by Jackson–and Maria, particularly, and it was that way long before she came. Plus Ellie's heart is in it. Hard to get in between that.
Maedlyn looks up about to start the conversation again, but the words die on her lips.
Ellie's eyes are far away. Far, far. Her left eye twitches. She's thinking. About something hard.
"Ellie?" she ends up asking.
Ellie doesn't react at first, and if Maedlyn didn't know it was serious before, she does now. She does this, sometimes. Better to get her to talk, she's found.
She's about to speak up again when her call finally seems to reach Ellie, and she looks up and meets her eyes.
"What's eating you, honey?" Maedlyn asks.
"Nothing," says Ellie. It won't near satisfy Maedlyn and they both know it.
Ellie looks far away again, like she's being pulled into a river current Maedlyn can't see. Then she just starts talking.
"Mads, how important do you think family is?"
Maedlyn stares. The sky is a darkening blue, and the breeze is seeming colder by the minute. "What?"
Ellie looks at her, kind of half-seeing her. "How important do you think family is?"
Maedlyn's lips are parted, and she frowns in confusion. "About as important as anything, Ellie."
Ellie nods.
Is that it?
"What if you don't get along with 'em too well?" Ellie asks now.
"How you mean?"
"Like, you're family, but you kinda fight, or… you're estranged, maybe that doesn't make sense. Something like that. You just don't see things the same way."
They haven't talked much about Maedlyn's uncle, who went a separate way years and years ago. But that describes their relationship fairly well. "Well… I suppose… It's hard, sometimes. With family, you can argue awful fierce, I know that well enough. I still get into tiffs with my mother. And she's the closest one to me, you understand."
There are wrinkles all around Ellie's eyes. She watches Maedlyn intently. She nods.
"I used to fight a lot with my uncle. Well, that's not right. We wouldn't fight, he would say something I didn't care for and I wouldn't speak to him for the rest of the day. He was a crotchety man. A judgmental man."
"Your uncle Thomas?"
So she does remember. "Yes, my mother's brother. Life took us separate ways, and that may have been sensible in a lot of ways. But if he walked through the gate tomorrow I would throw my arms around him, Ellie."
Ellie listens, still as anything. "Because he's family."
"Because he's family. There's something special there, I don't know. Sometimes you meet people…" She gives Ellie a sly look but her expression doesn't change. "They're pretty special, but none so much as family, in my experience. Even if they are… ungentlemanly."
"Yeah…" says Ellie, thinking. "That's worth protecting, isn't it?"
"I should say so," says Maedlyn. "Ellie, you're thinking about Joel again, aren't you?"
Ellie shoots her a look, surprised, vulnerable, and a little confused. She recovered slowly, her eyes move, and she nods. "Yeah. Yeah I am. Always, really."
"Well, that's okay."
"I know."
"I think you–" She stops, adjusting herself. Maybe she shouldn't.
"What?" says Ellie.
Maedlyn works her lips. She hopes she'll take this the right way. "I think you honor his memory pretty good, Ellie. I think he'd be very proud of what you've done."
Ellie shrinks a bit, her brow wrinkling.
"The good things you've done, Ellie. And there are many."
Ellie's eyes are glassy now. Slowly, her brow softens. She nods. "I think you're right," she rasps.
They sit in the quiet of the night for a while longer, no words between them. Maedlyn's uneasy, but she also knows she can't rush Ellie through her feelings. She'll retreat if Maedlyn tries that, and she has before. It's okay. Ellie has phases, like the moon. Sometimes she's giddy, half a kid. Full of jokes and adventure. Other times she's somber. She's carrying a lot of weight. More than most, Maedlyn suspects. She loves her for that. She loves her strength. The strength of her heart.
Ellie sucks in a breath. "I can't stay tonight, Mads."
Maedlyn tenses up. "What?"
Ellie's screwed up her lips. "I know, I know–"
"After our heartfelt conversation? Just gonna up and leave?"
Ellie smiles, putting her palm on her forehead. "I know, I just…"
"Gonna leave a girl all cold like that?"
"Mads–" Ellie looks up in exasperation. "I haven't been back to my place in days and I got some stuff to take care of."
Maedlyn gives her a look. "Oh, you got dusting to do? Gonna reorganize your comics?"
"I've got journaling to do, I think."
That stops Maedlyn. She pulls the blanket in closer again. "Well… when am I gonna see you again? I only waited all afternoon."
"I have tomorrow off. Abby wants us to come over for dinner."
"Oh… well, that's nice."
"Lev's making lasagna."
"That's even nicer. Okay, then, Ellie. But you better leave before I start feeling too particular."
Ellie smiles and gets up. Maedlyn figures she's gonna get another kiss, but instead, Ellie's arms wind their way under her and she feels herself getting lifted right out of her seat.
"Oh! What?!"
Ellie chuckles, carrying her over to the door and opening it.
"Now you're just asking for it," Maedlyn teases.
Ellie carries her across the apartment to her bed.
"Oh, now?"
Ellie pulls back the covers, still carrying her, then lays her underneath them.
"Okay…"
Ellie pulls the covers over her. Being still wrapped in the blanket, Maedlyn is kind of entombed.
"Hey now!"
Ellie giggles.
"What are you doing? I am not going to sleep–"
Ellie leans down and gives Maedlyn a nice, slow kiss on the lips. She relaxes. Then Ellie puts one of the pillows over Maedlyn's face.
"No!" Maedlyn wriggles all around sending the pillow to the floor and unwrapping herself from her covers.
She finally gets out just in time to see Ellie heading out the door. "Oh, you!" she says with some aggravation, but Ellie just laughs and closes the door.
Maedlyn sits at the edge of her bed and huffs. What a tease.
Ellie steps through the trees like a shadow, the campfire visible about fifty feet away. She's in complete darkness. Only long experience helps her to step silently without the use of light.
The men left Jackson at dusk, as they were told to. They rode out with their gear and set up camp in the hills north of East Gros butte, well more than a mile from any Jacksonian. It would have been effortless to track them in the day, but it was a lot harder at night, when she had to stay out of even the moonlit road.
She stopped by her garage only long enough to grab her locket, then cut back to the Hauser property. The one with the ruined basement concealing a tunnel under the rubble. A tunnel that leads all the way to a gully outside the Jackson walls. It is a dearly kept secret that Ellie hasn't had to make use of for quite a long time.
But she needed it tonight. She couldn't let anyone know she is out here. Not even Maedlyn.
Her eyes tighten as she feels a pain in her chest. She's out of the habit of lying to people she cares about. But some secrets are too dangerous to leave the lips. Not before she knows what she needs to know. Not before she figures out just who Lyle is.
The men seem contented to keep drinking after they left Jackson. She's watched. Not hard to parse the ritual that she wagers they've completed many a time before. There are stretches of silence, punctuated by someone telling a story that may or may not be horseshit seemingly at no provocation. There are bouts of laughter, curses and a lot of talking shit.
Lyle's not drinking as much as the others. That Wyatt kid is looking red in the cheeks, though.
She's perched between a trunk obscuring her and a log behind her. Her muscles are taut and ready. There will be no fight. But she mustn't miss her chance.
After about an hour she gets it. Lyle gets up alone to take a piss.
She watches him make distance from the fire. Some of the men piss with their back to the firelight. Lyle must be a bit shyer, as he makes his way well into the wood.
Ellie follows.
At the end, she almost loses him, then she catches a little movement under the moonlight passing through a gap between the branches. She waits.
He finishes his business, and gets up to return to the fire, but Ellie is waiting for him. This is it.
"Lyle," she says.
He freezes, all tense. His hand is by his holster, but he doesn't reach for the gun.
Nice and easy, Ellie moves her face into the moonlight.
He doesn't say anything at first, and she can't see his face.
"Easy," she says, "I just want to talk."
"The fuck are you doing?" he asks, anger rumbling through his throat.
"I'm not here on Jackson business," she says. "Just let me explain."
"You better explain quick before I call the boys over."
Ellie steps forward into an open space, where the moonlight illuminates her whole body. She holds up her hands, open palms. Slowly, she reaches down, takes her sidearm from its holster, and lays it into the grass beneath her feet. She shows her open palms again.
"What's this about?" he rasps.
"Come forward so I can see you and I'll tell you," she says.
He doesn't comply right away. With a soft creek of his leathers, he steps forward until the blue light rolls over his brow, and she can see him better.
He looks different, then. His face is haggard from long years. He's not as strong as Joel, not by half. He's thin, and his eyes tell her that conflict is not his strong suit. In fact, she can tell he's scared. He's practiced at not looking it, though. He does seem practiced at looking mean. He's got a short sneer on his face.
"You recognize me?" Ellie asks him.
His brow twitches, and he looks over her face. He sees something there, but in the end he shakes his head.
Ellie flexes her fingers, her hands still in the air. She lowers them. "I'm gonna make you a show of good faith." She reaches up and begins unclasping her locket. She never wears it outside of town, but today is different.
She gathers it in her hand and offers it to him. He reaches out to take it. She holds it.
"This is my most precious possession," she tells him.
That gives him pause. She drops it in his hand.
He holds it in front of him under the moonlight. Looking down, his face is completely obscured in darkness. He stares at it for a while.
"You not gonna open it?" she asks him.
"I don't need to open it." His voice has changed. It's more gravelly, now. "I'm the one that gave it to her."
Ellie's heart jumps. She runs a thumb over her jeans.
He looks up at her, and whatever Ellie was hoping to see isn't there. He's skeptical, uneasy. "Say her name."
Ellie swallows. "Anna."
He winces. He looks down at the locket briefly, then hands it back to her.
For some reason, she's angry he didn't open it. After a brief hesitation, she takes it back from him.
"Where is she?" he asks.
"Dead," she replies, clasping it back around her neck.
"How?"
Ellie just shakes her head to that. "2019. I was just a baby."
He nods.
She doesn't know what else to say and he doesn't say anything either. He's just looking over her face, now.
"You didn't recognize me?" she asks.
"Never seen you before," he says. For some reason, that makes her angry, too. "Saw somethin', but… didn't know what."
Ellie works her lips. "You–"
"How'd you find me?" he asks her. "How the fuck you know?"
Ellie notices her breathing is getting fast, and she consciously slows it down. "I've got your letter. To her. The last one."
He winces again.
"Your name was on the list."
He thinks about that, then nods.
"You never thought you'd see me," says Ellie.
He shakes his head.
You never wanted to see me, she doesn't say.
"What you looking for, exactly, Ellie?" he asks her. "A fucking inheritance?"
This time her lip trembles in anger. She doesn't speak, she just shakes her head.
"Why come out here, huh? Why do this?"
That hurts her. She sniffs. "Guess I just wanted to get a measure of you. I mean, think about it, Lyle, what are the chances that you and I ever cross paths, huh? Am I supposed to just ignore you, let you go on your way?"
His sneer creeps back onto his lips. He's half looking down, like he doesn't wanna look straight at her.
"Fuck," says Ellie, "you don't have anything to say to me? That it?"
"Put that down," says Lyle in a serious tone.
Ellie scoffs. "I'm not–"
Then her instinct kicks in and she turns around to see a dark silhouette ten feet away, just a sliver of moonlight illuminating the gun pointed at her.
The figure steps forward, one slow, plodding step at a time, until he's mostly visible as well.
Harder to see the red on his cheeks in the moonlight, but Wyatt's foolish smile and eyes give away how much he's been drinking.
"Hey there, Ellie," he says. "Change your mind on that dance, after all?"
He's still pointing the gun her way.
"Wyatt," says Lyle.
Wyatt doesn't look up at first. He seems to be relishing having Ellie at the end of his barrel. Slowly, he turns toward Lyle.
"That's your sister," says Lyle.
Ellie and Wyatt look at each other at the same time. Wyatt's smile grows to cover his whole face. "Well, I'll be damned as a dockwhore."
Ellie is not pleased by this revelation. And she does not like having guns pointed at her. Her face is hard. "You wanna put that thing down?" she growls.
He sways slightly, then he lifts his hands as if in surrender, dangling the gun by the trigger guard. "Sorry, sis. I didn't know it was a family reunion."
They stand there in silence for a few moments, Wyatt the only one smiling, like it was the funniest thing in the world.
"I'm gonna ask you again, Ellie," says Lyle, "what is this? What are you doing here?"
Ellie looks at him, feeling confused, confounded, helpless. She shakes her head. "I don't know." She laughs without humor. "I don't know, Lyle, I guess I thought we might have a conversation. I'm only–"
Your daughter.
"It's only the first time we ever met," she says, desperately trying to keep the pain out of her voice. She laughs again, bitterly. "I guess I thought you might have questions for me."
He stares at her. The creases on his brow are deep, he still won't look all the way up at her, square.
"But you don't," she says, holding in the tears with all her strength. "Do you?"
His lips part, but he doesn't say anything. He looks down again, his face covered in darkness.
She sucks in a breath and she's just about to walk away when he speaks.
"Look," he says, and that's all for a long few seconds. "Look, Ellie, it's late. Isn't it? Been a long day. Been drinking. Just not a good time, is all. Don't you think?"
Her cheek twitches.
"Awful hard times to surprise an old man. Don't you think?"
"Any other time and place, and you'd be dead by now," Wyatt offers. He inclines his head. "Only reason I didn't shoot is I recognized you."
"Enough, Wyatt," says Lyle.
Ellie's breathing sharply through her nose. She doesn't trust herself to speak.
"Why don't we…" Lyle rubs his jaw, then looks up at the moon. "Why don't we speak tomorrow, when we're all a little better rested, hmm?"
Ellie's cheek twitches again. She forces herself to nod.
"That's right," says Lyle. He takes a couple steps forward, a stride from Ellie. "Get yourself to bed, Ellie," he says with a nod. "You," he says to Wyatt.
Wyatt's eyes are fixed on Ellie, but then he turns to his dad.
Lyle gestures sharply with his head, then starts making his way back to the fire.
Still smiling, Wyatt holsters his gun, and clips it in. Instead of following Lyle, he looks down, and Ellie can only see his smirk as he approaches, till he's only a foot away. He looks up at her eyes.
"Don't try this shit again," he says. The threat in his voice is clear.
Ellie's right hand is a fist, her body tense.
Wyatt turns around and walks after Lyle in a cool, liquored gait.
Ellie stands there for a good minute, feeling like she swallowed poison. Against her bitterest wishes, a tear rolls down her cheek. She bends down, grabs her gun, and pushes her way into the bushes.
Ellie lays her holster and belt down in a pile at the entrance to Barthas's stall. She's tired of carrying it. It's dark in here, and quiet. With heavy feet, she walks over and grabs the brush from the top of an upturned bucket and begins to go to work on his shoulders. He twitches just slightly.
He keeps eyeing her.
"I know," she says. For a while that's all she says. She keeps working on him, moving over his sides and left buttock. She starts to run the brush down his spine, his favorite part. He harrumphs a bit.
"I found Lyle, Barthas," she tells him.
He turns his head slightly, regarding her in the near darkness.
"Guess he didn't want to see me after all," she says, her voice hitching. A tear rolls down her cheek but she's too angry to cry. She rubs it away roughly with her forearm. She scowls, a painful burn bubbling in her stomach. She clenches her teeth. "I can't believe that kid Wyatt. I can't believe he would do that to me.
"Like it's his fucking business–" She stops herself.
Well, I guess it kind of is.
She brushes away another tear, moving around him to work on his other side.
Barthas's eyes follow her.
She looks at him. She can't see him clearly, in the darkness, but she can feel him. "You understand anger too, don't you?" she asks him. She thinks he gets it. "You know why I'd be angry at him? My…" She doesn't say it. Her face screws up again and more tears threaten to escape. "All I wanted was…" She crushes a sob under her breath. "All I wanted was for Lyle to look at her fucking picture…"
The bitter feeling is almost too much.
Barthas grunts at her. She lays a hand on his neck reassuringly.
"What did he think?" she asks. The anger is refreshing, enlivening. "Did he think it was his picture in there? Like I was carrying that shit around on my neck? Why the fuck would I? What did he ever do for me?"
Barthas witnesses.
"No, he… if he thinks that, he's got the wrong idea. The wrong idea about everything."
She finishes up on his shoulder and moves to his side, putting a few more swipes down his back.
"He barely asked me anything. Like he didn't even care."
She stops brushing for a second, then in a surge of heat she hurls the brush into the corner of the stall. The clatter is a violence on the silence of the night.
She stands there, acrid, hot tears rolling down her contorted cheeks, stinging. She feels Barthas move, then his big head is on her shoulder. "Stop it…" she says feebly, but her hands travel up his neck and wrap around him, holding him to her.
"You know what it's like?" she asks him. "It's like this shit opened up a can of anger I didn't even know I had. One that's been on the shelf for years and years, and it's only grown more rancid with time. How could I have known? How do you prepare for that?"
Barthas makes some soft sounds in his throat.
She cries against his neck now. "I'm hiding again. Hiding from everyone. You're the only one I've told and the only one I want to."
She feels like a child for a second.
"I'm so stupid. I shouldn't be doing this to you–"
Barthas harrumphs angrily, tossing his head and pressing his neck back against her.
"Okay! Okay…" she says. "...I'll tell you for now.
"Why do we do it? Why do we take their names? Could have been anyone, that met them out there. I could have never laid eyes on them, I don't give a shit. Could have been just another pack of assholes that roamed into the wrong territory. Could have handled it like the old days, just hunted them down. Killed them all."
A pit opens in her stomach and she goes down to one knee, weeping painfully into the straw.
Barthas worries after her, shifting his hooves in the stall. His lips touch the top of her head, her hair, Tess's bandana.
She reaches up and grabs his jaw softly. "I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean that, okay?" It makes her feel a bit better and she stands back up unsteadily. "I don't want that… I just want something better than this. Is that possible?"
She thinks of Wyatt pointing the gun at her again, a smirk on his face, and a surge of heat moves through her. "I don't know… I don't know…
"I just want things to stop getting worse. I just want to stop hurting. Why does this keep happening? Why do things keep hurting? Can it stop? Can it just stop?"
She leans against him now, cheeks stinging. A different part of her comes up. The part that never cries. The part that takes care of what needs to be done. She pinches her eyes for a second, squeezing out the last of the tears, then lets them drift open again. She sniffs, seeing something new.
"Well," she says, her voice more level, "I guess it's my problem now."