Chapter 16
Sixteen
Bex
With most seats taken, I take a seat next to Booker, who sits next to Maureen in her usual spot at the head of the table.
Nina isn’t there. So, where the hell is she?
Garrett comes in and sits at the other end of the table, opposite the woman who runs things in this town.
Ruby’s quick to set bowls of steaming stew in front of him and then me.
I politely thank her, and before I can ask where my sister is, she hurries off.
Sheamus, the pianist, sits on my other side, and he’s talking to Davie about how he loves music and how everyone should learn to play the piano. I chuckle when Davie argues he’d rather be a deputy like his dad than sit around and play “them ivory keys.”
“What I do is important for this town,” the old man argues. His rough hands clutch his spoon like it’s a weapon.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Davie argues. “We all have to play our part in keeping the town safe. I just don’t see myself doing it from behind a piano.”
Sheamus mumbles words I can’t understand before shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.
“Come on, boy,” Murphy says, standing from his seat. He gives a nod to Maureen before leaving the dining room. Davie follows, leaving his empty bowl on the table.
Shortly after, Booker and Garrett also leave, telling Maureen they’re going to secure the barn and make sure the animals are all locked up.
I hop over into Booker’s seat and tell Maureen, “I know you’re upset with me, but I need to know how my sister’s doing. Do you know where she is?”
She wipes her mouth with her cloth napkin and shakes her head. “She’s been hanging out in the barn a lot. Other than that, I don’t know where she is right now.”
“What?!” I sit upright in the spindle chair. “What if someone or something took her?”
“Nobody took her,” Maureen says under her breath, sounding a little annoyed.
Sheamus stands just as Ruby returns with her oversized tray. He looks to Maureen, and says, “Song number three?”
Maureen nods. “Yup. Song number three.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shuffles by the empty chairs and heads out into the parlor.
Setting my napkin on the table, I abruptly stand, ready to leave too. “I need to go and find my sister.”
“You aren’t going anywhere. Cletus will be here any minute, and I can’t have you disappearing.”
Oh, I’ll show her how I can disappear. But before I can, Ruby chimes in, saying, “Oh, hey! Are you asking about your sister?” She doesn’t pause in talking to us while piling the dirty dishes onto her tray.
“Oh, well, I saw her this morning. She borrowed a tray, filled it up with a day’s worth of food, a small pot of coffee, and two large jars of water, and then disappeared from the kitchen before I could ask what she was up to.
I assumed she needed some time to herself, maybe out in the barn with the horses. ”
“No one has checked on her after that?”
Maureen stands from her seat. “There aren’t many places to hide in town, and if she wandered off out into the prairie, well, she knows better than to be out there past dark.
So, I imagine she’ll turn up at some point.
” Then to her friend, she asks, “Can you finish cleaning up later and go make sure the cage is hot?”
Ruby stops loading up her tray. “Good idea! Be right back!”
From out in the parlor, a series of sharp, rapid notes resolves into a faint piano melody.
Before I can ask how Ruby plans to charge the cage that encloses the garden and animal pens, Garrett’s voice floats in from the hallway. “Hey! We’ve got company!”
Maureen gives me an eye roll and says, “Here we go. Come on, let’s get this over with.”
I hurry and follow behind her. Sheamus continues playing, like he’s in his own little world, while Garrett and Booker stand at the front windows, looking out to the middle of town.
The sky has turned a dark blue, on the cusp of becoming night, and the waning moon sits off to the east, starting its rise and claim to the day.
The dusk hour offers enough lingering daylight for the showdown that’s about to go down.
Two men and one woman riding horses stroll into town.
More men and women with unruly hair and claws jutting from their fingernails follow on foot, surrounding the sides of the riders.
The burly rider in the middle calls out, “Come on out, Maureen! You know why I’m here!”
Maureen glances over at Sheamus. “Keep playing song number three, then use your judgment from there.”
Sheamus nods and turns to his ivory and black keys. I don’t recognize the song, but, even more importantly, I don’t understand why they chose now to play music, as if this is some theatrical show we’re all watching.
“Stay here,” Maureen instructs me and then gives a stern glare to the sheriff. “Keep her in here. If we need her, then I’ll call her.”
Garrett nods. “Will do, ma’am.”
Booker unlocks the latches, then opens one of the double doors.
Maureen strolls outside, and Booker follows.
They saunter off the wooden porch and down onto the dirt road.
Garrett locks the doors and then returns to my side.
He unlocks one of the windowpanes and pushes it open enough so we can hear their conversation.
“Hello, Cletus,” Maureen shouts. “Been a while since you’ve visited Gravers Junction.”
“It has,” the man in the middle says with a snarl.
He lifts a leg over the backside of his horse, who is also enormous.
I’ve never seen a breed that large before.
Tufts of black hair on its legs fall around its hooves.
Its dark mane is thicker than that of any horse I’ve seen, and its chest is broad, twice the size of Tumbleweed’s.
It’s almost as if the horse were some kind of aberrant animal as well.
The man stands next to his massive horse, and I can see why he needs such a beast to ride.
He must be well over seven feet tall. That poor horse, carrying around so much weight.
He tips his black hat back, revealing dark creases embedded in the lines of his face.
Long gray hair is tamed and tied at the back of his head, while a short, tidy beard covers the lower part of his face.
His clothes and jacket are notably clean, in stark contrast to the rest of his pack, suggesting that his meticulous grooming habits may reflect his perception of what a superior should look like.
If we weren’t out in the middle of Graveyard Territory, I’d almost mistake him for a gentleman. Well, a rougher version of a gentleman.
“Where is she?” His voice is low and carries the weight of authority—most likely an earned authority through victories and bloodshed.
Looking over the buildings of Gravers Junction, as if knowing the townsfolk are watching, he yells, “She has to pay for what she’s done.
Blood for blood, Maureen. One pup dead and one with a hole in her shoulder. ”
Maureen glances over at the inn, raising an eyebrow to me and Garrett.
Then to Cletus, she shouts, “I wasn’t aware blood had been spilled.
I only recently heard about the encounter and was told it was just some of your pups playing rough with Booker.
” She gestures to the alpha wolf standing by her side.
Cletus doesn’t look at his cousin. He holds his attention on the leader of Gravers Junction. “Blood, Maureen, now! Or I’ll give the order. And I can’t make any promises about damage control.”
“You don’t want to do that,” Maureen says, no kindness in her voice. “Starting a war with Gravers Junction won’t end well for you, or your reputation.”
“What does that mean?” I whisper to Garrett.
“Out there”—he points to the plains beyond the town—“gossip spreads like wildfire. And if others get word of anyone showing signs of weakness, well, then they’ll come for you. Just as Cletus has come here looking for you.”
“I thought he’s here because I broke some golden rule of interference.” Which resulted in Garrett shooting and killing one of them while injuring another.
Garrett nods. “Yes, if you had minded your own business we wouldn’t be in this situation.
But what’s done is done. And now he’s here for blood retribution, and, I imagine, to test your weaknesses.
” I open my mouth to argue, but he quickly clarifies, “And before you ramble on about how strong you are, what I mean is you lack the experience to win against Cletus. And losing a fight out in these parts tells others you’re weak. ”
I can’t argue with that. We face the front window, watching and listening.
“Let the girl come out, say hello, and make her case for an apology. And then we’ll see about leaving quietly.” He waves a hand casually through the air as if this whole ordeal is one big inconvenience.
“What kind of apology are you looking for?” Booker asks, as if he knows his cousin all too well and what he says isn’t always what he means.
Cletus stares at Booker and Maureen. His gaze is predatory, and when his eyes briefly flash a golden yellow, the sand along my arms comes to life, rippling in anticipation.
“He’s going to attack,” I say, moving to the door. “They’ll kill Maureen and Booker if we don’t do something.”
Garrett comes to my side, but instead of following me, he slams the door shut. “No. They know what they’re doing. You’re not in any position to go out there and save the day—not yet, anyway.”
“I can fight!” I say with urgency, knowing there isn’t time to argue. “The Spirit of the Land unlocked that knowledge within me. I know how to use my powers and fight.”
“Dammit, Bex! How many times do I have to tell ya. You lack experience. Though, I’ll admit you have heart.” He crosses his arms over his chest, not backing down. “We sit this one out until Maureen calls for ya.”
From out the open window, Book shouts, “Go home, Cletus!” His voice reverberates through the walls of the inn. “I won’t tell you again.”