Chapter 19
Logan
The herd moves in unison, following Jon and Thomas in the UTV, Jon driving while Thomas baits them with protein range cubes, all in an effort to move them to another pasture.
“Always thought they were majestic creatures, since the first time I laid eyes on them, before I knew anything about bison.” My father muses as he leans against the fence post. “Such smart animals. You can see it in their eyes. If they let you get close to them.”
“Haven’t since I’ve been back.” A cow and her calf were at a water trough about sixty feet from me while I was mending a fence. Their tails started twitching and then they bolted.
“They don’t want us around. They do their own thing. We’re just bystanders, here to make sure they have enough land to roam and food to graze on.”
I know all this. I knew it as a kid, when the herd was a fraction of this, but I let my father prattle on because we’re having a real conversation for the first time in forever and it has nothing to do with the Murphys or Jay.
He clucks. “You know, I told Wyatt at least a dozen times over the years to get out of cattle and move into bison.”
“Why hasn’t he?”
“Says he likes his livestock dumb and slow.”
I snort. “Sounds like something he’d say.”
We watch the UTV vanish over a ridge, and the herd goes with it.
“Jon’s got it down to a science, managing the pastures for regrowth and seeding when we need it.
There’s timothy and orchard grass growing over there.
Red and white clover over there.” He gestures in the general areas.
“Hay fields are doing well, but we’ve had to supplement with bales from the Shepherds’ lot in the winter, with how big the herd’s gotten.
I warned him, we can’t grow any bigger. Hell, we’re already too big.
The land can’t handle it and the herd will suffer.
” He shakes his head. “Jon’s got all these grand ideas.
He’s always chasing the next thing. Sometimes slow and steady is the right path.
But him and Sarah buying up that acreage behind us will help. ”
“Jack’s going to bring equipment in next week and start getting those stumps out before the winter hits.”
Dad peers over his shoulder at the chainsawed hunks of wood I loaded and brought in on a trailer this afternoon. “You’ve sure had a day, huh? Saved a woman’s life and then came home to cut down half the forest?”
“I don’t know about the saving part. She had a pulse when they took her away, but I guess we’ll see.
” The woman was floating face down when I got to her.
We managed to haul her into our boat without tipping it and then Jack raced us back to the landing while Jameson called 911 and I attempted to resuscitate her.
EMS arrived in a helicopter to airlift her to North Bay.
“They said the cold water could slow down the brain damage, but I don’t know.
It didn’t look good. At least we got through to help.
” Cell service is sporadic at best out there.
“Where’d you learn how to do that? The CPR.”
“Prison. A volunteer came in, offering to teach a class, so I signed up.” I signed up for everything and anything that came through there, not that there were a lot of options.
I finished high school and took all the mandatory anger management and other rehabilitation courses.
I even took a university course, thanks to a prison education program.
It was a long and tedious process to get approved.
The opportunity vanished after the incident with Dorsey.
“I only ever practiced on a dummy, though. That was the first time I’ve tried it on a real person. Who knows if I did it right.”
“From Jack’s own words, you saw that woman and dove in without a thought about how cold it’d be.”
“Yeah, that water was fucking freezing.” I chuckle as I recall stripping off my clothes and swapping them for an extra pair in my cousin’s truck. We drove the entire ride home with the heat blasting to cut the chill, to no avail. I’m still cold, even after working out here all afternoon.
“Well …” My father mulls over his words in that way he always does, where his mouth seems to work them around before spitting them out. “I’d say you did it right, for whatever that’s worth. And it sounds like the EMS agreed.”
I harrumph, unfamiliar with anything that sounds like a compliment coming from him. “We gave them our names and info. OPP might show up later to take a statement.” They were on another call when this all went down.
My father hesitates. “Jon mentioned seeing Emery in the garage early this morning when he went to drop off a check.”
“Jon has a big mouth.”
He waits a beat and then adds, “She was there last night when I left too.”
When I don’t respond, he nods to himself, as if he’s gotten the answer he was looking for. “You know nothing can ever come of it, right?”
“Yeah, I’m well aware.” Painfully so. She made sure of that.
“Life sure has tested that woman.” My father stares into the distance, a hard, unreadable look there—classic Holt Landry.
“After you went away, she faded. Lost that spark. That’s what Sandy kept saying, anyway.
We all saw it too. Then again, you could probably say that about all of us after Jay—” He purses his lips as if catching himself before he goes down that path.
“When Emery started seeing Dillon, we thought she might be coming around. And even though Isla wasn’t planned, Clive and Sandy didn’t care.
They were so happy that Emery seemed content.
But these last ten years …” He shakes his head.
“Dillon turned out to be a poor excuse for a husband. Then Clive died, followed by Sandy not long after. That was a damn shock to all of us.”
The lump in my stomach swells with his words. “Mom told me all this.”
“Yeah. But did she tell you that you broke that poor girl?”
My jaw clenches. “She didn’t need to.” Neither does he, but he can’t fucking help himself.
“I’m saying, don’t make her life harder than it already is.”
I study the calluses on my work-worn hands.
Hands that gripped Emery’s hips, that memorized this new, more mature version of her body, one that’s created life.
“That’s the last thing I want to do.” By the way she bolted from my apartment this morning, I’d say I might be failing.
“I’m gonna take the tractor in and start stacking the wood. ”
I leave my father standing there, but his words trail me all the way back.
The sun is sinking toward the horizon when I reach the barn with the load. My mother’s white farm truck has pulled up, the Landry Market decal that Sarah designed plastered to its door. Sarah spills out the passenger side with Macy, followed by Isla and Egan.
The collies dart across the grass to greet my mother, who still wears her apron from her busy day at the market.
“Isla?” she calls out, waving the girl over.
They exchange a few words and then my mother gives the girl a comforting hug and ushers her toward the main house with her arm around her shoulders.
Sarah sends her kids chasing after their grandmother and then makes her way to where I’m unloading logs for splitting. “More wood?”
“You’re kidding me, right? Have you seen that land you and Jon bought?”
She watches with arms folded over her chest, accentuating her growing belly. We’ve barely talked since last weekend. She’s been even better at avoiding me than Emery was, up until last night.
“How was the market?” I ask.
“Extra busy because we’re closed tomorrow. Everyone’s scrambling to get their pies.”
“That’s a good thing, seeing as Mom made a million of them this week.” It’s amazing how many people have baked a trip here into their weekly routine, given we’re a good twenty-minute drive from town.
“Right?” Sarah pauses. “Your back must be killing.”
“I’m fine.” I nod toward the house. “What’s going on with Isla? That looked like something.”
“Yeah.” Sarah ’s forehead furrows as she follows my gaze. “One of her friends didn’t come home when she was supposed to. No one’s seen her since last night.”
Unease prickles me. “Which friend?”
“Holly.”
Shit.
Sarah watches me closely. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s the blond one, right? I met her last week when they threw a rock through my window. I saw her at the Bale House last night too.”
“That’s the last place anyone saw her.” Sarah hesitates. “She’s a Whitley, you know. Her great-grandmother was, anyway.”
“So I’ve heard.” I’ve given up all pretenses of stacking wood. “How serious do they think this is?”
“It doesn’t sound good. Emery called and asked if Isla could hang out at our place until later. You know, keep her busy. She doesn’t want her sitting at home alone, on her phone.”
“Makes sense.” My mind spins. What are the chances that the girl I run into earlier in the night is now missing? “Do they have any leads on where she went or what happened?”
“No idea. You’ll have to ask Emery.” She hesitates. “Maybe you can if she stays over again tonight.”
I groan. “Are you fucking kidding me? He told you too?”
“Of course he did. He’s my husband! He tells me everything!” Her tone of reproach is almost comical.
“And who else has he run and blabbed to, besides you and Dad?” Obviously, my mother knows. “Is he gonna tell Mak too? “Cause that guy loves to gossip.”
“He hasn’t told anyone else.”
“The last thing Emery needs is a rumor like this floating around.”
“It’s not a rumor if it’s true.”
I glare at her in warning.
Sarah laughs. “Come on, I’m only teasing. No one’s gonna say anything to anyone. It’s Landry business.”
“No, actually, it’s no one’s fucking business. Tell your husband to shut his big mouth.” And to think I was starting to like him.
“Okay. We won’t say another word about it.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “I’m just glad my baby bro finally got laid after so many years. Maybe you’ll smile now. You know, stop scaring the children.”
I roll my eyes at her, but it only earns a robust cackle.