Chapter 18
Eighteen
Bex
The next morning, I stand outside the inn, the heat of my coffee seeping through the tin cup into my palms. The morning is cool, though I know the sun will soon warm the land.
Out in the center of town, four horses are hitched to the stagecoach.
Murphy and his son, Davie, load supplies for the trip.
I walk over and stop beside Murphy while Davie moves down the line of horses, tugging leather straps, testing chains with his boot, then bracing both hands on the long wooden beam that runs between them.
He rocks it once, listening for the faint clink of iron. Satisfied, he nods to his father.
“All set for the ride out?” I ask.
“Yeah. With four horses, we’ll make good time. Maureen doesn’t like leaving the town with no horses, so we rarely hitch four. But since your two are here, she said we could take them.”
I sip my coffee, trying to understand his meaning.
“I don’t reckon it’d be a good idea to flee on a horse if danger comes to town. Though, you never know when you need to get somewhere fast.” He tips his hat to me before hollering at his son. “Boy, what did I tell you about crossing the lines!”
“Sorry, sir.” Davie works the reins so they’re not tangled.
“Bex!” Nina calls from the open door of the inn. “Can you help me?”
I hurry over to the wooden planks of the porch area where Nina and Ruby are setting out crates filled with food, jars of water, and clean pots and pans.
Maureen comes out after them holding a stack of blankets.
We all bring the supplies to the stagecoach, where Murphy and Davie help load everything on top and inside the coach.
Garrett and a woman I recognize from the first day we arrived walk toward us. The woman has tan skin and wild red hair peeking out from beneath her sunrider hat. Garrett introduces her, saying, “This is Loretta. She’s one of my deputies. She’s also got the fastest draw that I’ve ever seen.”
Loretta rests her hands on her pistols, snug in their holsters hanging on the thick belt around her waist. She yawns, then says, “I’m your night watch.”
“She can’t be too fast if she’s half asleep,” I say quietly to Nina.
The gunslinger hears me and spins to face the building next to the inn, whipping out both pistols.
With a loud bang-bang, she shoots two shots at the cans perched on top of the roof.
A faint stream of smoke escapes the end of each barrel.
“We leave those up there for whenever someone needs a demonstration.”
She holsters her firearms, then climbs inside the stagecoach and gets comfortable against the pile of blankets Maureen stashed on the bench seat.
We all watch as Loretta kicks up her feet, crossing one pant leg over the other, and rests her boots on the opposite bench while tipping her sunrider hat down over her face.
Unbound by her hat, short red curls now twist out in a wild, free style. “Wake me when I’m needed.”
I don’t dare whisper my thoughts aloud about how rude this woman is being, fearing she might have supernatural hearing or something.
“Well, we best be going,” Murphy says to Nina. Davie climbs up on the driver’s bench, adjusting his sunrider hat before tying a dust-catcher around his neck. Nina nods to Murphy, and the man climbs up to his seat next to his son’s.
“Be safe,” I say to Nina.
She pulls me in for a hug and whispers, “You too. Don’t be a hero either. Stay alive and just learn as much as you can about this place. The more you know, the more you can teach me when I get back.”
“Deal,” I say and then squeeze her tight.
When we part, Garrett’s there holding the carriage door open. Nina steps inside and sits next to a sleeping Loretta.
“I’m serious,” Nina says, hanging her head out the open window. “Listen to Maureen and Garrett, and don’t take any risks. I’ll be back in six days.”
“Love you!” I shout as Murphy snaps the reins and calls to the horses. The chains rattle and hooves pound the dry dirt.
Nina shouts back, “I love you too!”
“She’s in good hands,” Garrett says to me. “Murphy and his son have been going out visiting other towns for years. They have the entire Graveyard Territory mapped out in here,” he says, tapping his forehead. “And if that ain’t enough, Loretta is—”
“The fastest draw in all the land,” I say, finishing his sentence.
“Yes, she is. But I was going to say fearless too. She’ll run straight into danger with or without being told to.”
I lower my tin cup, the coffee now cold. “How does one run straight into danger and not break the laws of the land?”
Garrett offers me a smile. “She knows the laws, so she knows when to charge and when to stay put. And when she charges, she commits. You can’t have any doubts—not a single thought about why you’re charging or what the outcome may be.
Loretta is great at closing her mind off to wandering thoughts and doubts.
She’s as focused as they get.” He walks past me and says over his shoulder as he makes his way to the barn, “I’ve got to tend to the horses, then I’ll come and get you for today’s lesson. ”
“Why can’t I come with you?” I shout.
“Because we need to talk,” Maureen says from behind me. She and Booker stand up on the platform porch in front of the inn. Booker sips his coffee while Maureen waves for me to follow.
Inside, Maureen and Booker sit at one of the empty tables in the front parlor. Sheamus stands from the piano and disappears into the back hall. Faint voices drift out from the back rooms, where I assume Sheamus and Ruby are conversing.
“What’s this all about?” I ask, taking a seat at the small, round table.
“Garrett’ll go over the laws of the land and the different supernaturals we have around, but we wanted to talk to you about why we’re all doing this. Why we stay.”
“I’m assuming it has something to do with ley lines,” I suggest.
Booker leans back in his chair, cracking a smile and laughing while Maureen’s eyes go wide. Between his amused laughter, he says, “Whelp, I wasn’t expecting her to say that!”
“Quiet, Book,” Maureen scolds her friend before narrowing those wide eyes into a glare, suspicion settling into her features.
“I read a book last night, well, started reading a book,” I say, then pull out the small canvas-bound book I tucked into the pocket of my skirt.
Maureen holds out a hand, and I place the book in her hand.
“It’s an odd book to have on the shelf, Energies from Beyond, and normally I wouldn’t read any sort of propaganda like this, but out here in this territory it seemed fitting.
So, you’re protecting some kind of mystical energies, I assume. ”
“I’ll be damned.” Booker’s words are still entangled with his chuckles.
“This might be easier than you thought.” He slaps a hand onto the table and then stands, taking his empty coffee cup and sunrider hat that’s sitting on the table with him.
“I’m going to see if Ruby has any leftovers before she feeds them to Davie’s mutt outside. ”
Maureen’s gaze softens, and she hands me back the book. “Keep reading it.”
I pocket the small book, and when she gets to her feet and waves for me to follow, I do without question.
She’s not wearing a dress or skirt today, but a pair of men’s pants.
There’s silence between us as I trail behind her into the inn’s back storage room and down the stairs leading to the underground community.
I don’t think this part of Gravers Junction will ever get old with me, with how they’ve basically built an underground hidden town, leaving the buildings up top as a decoy.
Thinking about town above has me wondering if others know the truth about where the people of this town live. “Do others outside of Gravers Junction know about the homes and businesses connecting underground through a system of tunnels?”
“Some,” she says indifferently. We’ve taken a few lefts and rights, and I’ve lost track of how to get back to the main stairs to the inn.
We come to a dead end, which has been carved out into a quaint reading nook with two wingback armchairs, a small three-tier cart with jars of water and extra candles, a bookcase set against the wall between the chairs, and a woven rug to complete the cozy feel.
“Are we going to read more books about mystical energies?” I ask as Maureen approaches the bookcase.
“Not exactly,” she says, then pushes the bookcase aside as if it were one of the barn doors, revealing a secret set of stairs.
These, unlike the wood-framed ones leading to the underground tunnels, are carved into the earth, packed dirt forming the tread.
“Watch your step,” she says, striking a match and lighting a lantern waiting to be used on the inside wall.
Once I’m through, and a few steps down, Maureen slides the bookshelf back into place.
I’m not a fan of tight spaces, and I’m tempted to tell her there’s no way I’m going any farther.
But the stairwell is wide enough for three or four people to walk side by side, so the feeling of tight space doesn’t overwhelm me.
“Stay close, and please watch your step.” Maureen takes the lead, holding the lantern up. The stairwell curves, and we make our way deeper into the earth.
“How far does this go?” I ask after a few minutes. The temperature of the air has gotten noticeably colder, and I wish Maureen had offered me a sweater or something for the chill.
“I’d say we’re about halfway down.”