Desert Wake ✔

Ch. 7, pt. 2: The Trials

Sun shines through the square window in Granddad's loft. It's the mornin' of our last full day at the farm. Our final goat-sled test day. I watch Ro sleepin', his fair head adrift in dreams, and I recall my own, or parts of it, anyways. I cain't deny the truth now—that I am meant to go out into the world with this man. Everything about being with him feels right. But there was more to that dream, wasn't there? I'm purdy sure Granddad made an appearance, but that part's hazy now. All I cain see is Ro walkin' next to me toward a blue horizon.

I got me a faint nigglin' that I should feel a sense of urgency, but I cain't seem to push that feelin' all the way to the surface. Instead, I finger Ro's glossy hair, then rub the golden stubble grown back on his chin. He smiles and them blue eyes open, givin' me the once over.

"Good morning." He traces the outline of my bare shoulder with his fingers.

I give him a good morning all right, a very good morning judgin' from his reactions, and when that's over I lie back down with my head buried in his chest.

"I never did tell you how pretty you looked in that blue dress, May." His voice is still sleepy, peaceful. "I'm sorry it got ruined."

"Ain't like I need it now." What good would it do me out there on the dust? But I must confess, I've packed Ma's silver hair clip to take with us. There're some things you just cain't leave behind.

A poundin' on the door sets us both bolt upright. Shit. That's the only word that comes to mind fer about five seconds. And then it hits me all at once—Granddad's warnin', the farm fallin' to pieces and me runnin' fer my life. Ain't it just like Granddad? Even in a dream, he shows up too late to do any good. Had he gotten himself into my brain one day earlier, we could have heeded his warnin' and been gone by now.

Well, there's no sense in dwellin' on all that. I gotta calm myself, keep from panickin'.

"Stay up here," I tell Ro while pullin' my coveralls on. "Hide yerself. Whoever it is, I'll git rid of 'em."

"May, wait." He pulls on my arm as I move to go down the ladder. The poundin' on the front door repeats itself.

"Whoever it is is gonna invite himself in soon, Ro. He ain't gonna go away simply cuz we don't respond." Ro sets his face to one of dissatisfaction, but he lets me go and hugs Frank to his chest instead.

I climb down from the loft, and head to the front door. When I open it, there stands Orin's pa, just like I suspected.

"Why, Mr. Longbow, hello there." I give him a big smile. "You must've read my mind about how lonesome I've been out here. How nice of you to pay a visit. You wanna come in?"

"Miss Stebbins." Jacob Longbow removes his hat and enters the house. "Don't mind if I do. Been walkin' all night to git here."

"And with that wind against you, too. Well now, you must be exhausted. Yer welcome to sleep in my folks' old room, case you're in need of a rest."

"I thank you kindly." He slumps into a seat at the table and adjusts his belt to compensate fer his repositioned girth. "I wish I had time fer sich luxuries as rest, but I'm afraid I've business with you of a pressin' matter."

"Is it my Granddad?" I cain't feel no dread at what his response might be. I only wanna know fer certain his life is over, so I cain get on with my own.

"No, Miss Stebbins, it's not yer Granddad, though I'm afraid his absence don't look too promisin'. I'm not sure in good conscience I cain let a young lady remain out here on her own. I told him as sich, on account of all the time he spent at my tavern that he'd have to tend to you better or else find you a husband. But he flat out refused." He raises an eyebrow like he really hopes I'm understandin' what he's sayin' and maybe what he's leavin' unsaid too. "I know you love yer Granddad, he's yer kin and that means something. But his obstinance in regards to yer welfare went against what I know is right, you see?"