They worked all afternoon, digging into the water table while the sun grazed their backs. The job was almost complete thanks to the homeowner who created a drilling rig from a forklift and spare parts he found at scrap yards. Corbin was sitting in the tall grass, assembling the pump, when he glanced up to see Clara walking towards him with the neighbor. They were in mid-conversation as she gestured about; the sun glinting off a glass of lemonade in her hand, while the neighbor carried two drinks in his.
"Figured you might be thirsty," the elderly homeowner, Jamie said. "My wife sure appreciates all that you're doing for us."
"Well, I'm glad to help," Corbin replied, accepting the refreshment.
"All of us around here respect Clara for helping us. We know she's taking a risk, which is why we all protect her by keeping our mouths shut." Jamie winked. "So you don't have to worry. Your secret is safe with us too."
"I appreciate that."
"It's getting late, Jamie." Clara glances at her watch. "We'll come back tomorrow and finish installing the pump."
"Alright, well, you two have tonight, and bring your appetites because my wife will have breakfast waiting."
"Sounds good." Corbin smiled.
After finishing their refreshments and saying goodbye, they hopped inside Clara's jeep. Soon they were coasting a bumpy back road that wrapped around the mountain with a long drop on the side. As they made their way home, Corbin gripped the armrests with white knuckles while Clara shifted gears. The jeep squealed each time, causing the fear of going over the cliff to tighten his spine. He rolled his shoulders, but the knots remained.
"Clara..."
"What?" she asked.
"Why did you choose this route instead of the way we came?"
"I thought you might like the view. Isn't the sunset gorgeous?"
"Sure. Want me to drive?"
"No!" she scoffed. "You'll just have to trust that I can get us home safely."
"Trust. That's a word I'm having a hard time with lately."
"How so?" Clara asked, making the Jeep squeal as she shifted gears.
"You're going to ruin the clutch!"
"Mind your business! Now tell me why trust is hard for you these days."
Corbin tossed his head back with a chuckle. "You haven't changed."
Her hand shot out, smacking him in the chest. "Well? Spit it out."
"I just... I did something horrible."
"Like what?"
Sucking in a deep breath, Corbin poured his heart out about the beggar woman on the road and everything that happened leading up to it. By the time he finished relating the story, they were turning onto the road for home. Clara remained silent the entire time, which made him sweat. Was she judging him? The silence continued as she pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, but then she turned to him.
Placing her hands over his, she said, "You've had a nasty string of events happen to you, but you can't let it eat you up."
"You mean you're not upset with me for what I did? Because I feel awful. I keep seeing her body lying there on the road and the crows, the bullet holes, the blood. I keep hearing myself shouting at her. All she wanted was help, and I behaved like an animal."
"Yes, you were cruel." Clara nodded. "And you could have helped her, but you can't change what's already happened. Now you have to put it behind you. The only way to make it right is by learning who you can trust, so you can make better choices."
"I don't think I'll ever be able to figure that out."
"You will," Clara assured him. "You just have to trust your instincts."
"But I did, and look what hap—"
"No," Clara interrupted. "You were using this." She tapped his head. "When it comes to your instincts, you want to use this." She placed her hand on his abdomen. "This will tell you when not to trust someone and this..." She moved her hand up to his heart. "Will tell you when you can trust someone. Once you've listened to what your gut or your heart is telling you, then you can use your head to figure out what you need to do. Got it?"
"I think so."
"You'll understand once you listen to what your body is telling you."
"You should take your advice." He wagged his finger at her. "The reason I can feel the water calling me is that I listen to what my body is telling me. You just need to practice what my grandfather taught you years ago."
Clara narrowed her eyes at him with a smirk and reached for the door handle. "Easy for you to say. Witching comes so naturally to you. I have to concentrate so hard on something automatic for you. I remember the first day I arrived at your grandfather's house—how you followed us while I tried to feel for water around the property and how you kept finding the markers he set up for me. I remember the look on his face as he realized that his little grandson had something extraordinary. A gift."
"Yeah. What a splendid gift," Corbin scoffed. "So great that someone is hunting me like a trophy animal."
Clara patted his hand. "It'll be ok. We won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise. Now let's go inside and get ready for the anniversary party."
∆∆∆
Two hours later, Corbin waited in the living room for everyone while fussing with the shirt collar on the black Guayabera Gunner lent him. Heels tapping the hardwood floor drew his attention to Luna, who was wearing a knee-length floral dress that belonged to Clara. She did a little spin as she entered the living room, causing the skirt to fan out and Corbin's eyes to go to her thighs—right in time for Archibald and Jasper to notice as they trailed behind her, so he dropped his gaze to his hands.
"Alright, let's get going, or else we'll be late, and then I'll never hear the end of it from my mother!" Gunner said, marching past all of them towards the door.
Clara grinned, sashaying after him while taking Luna's hand and pulling her along. "Who else is ready for wonderful food and salsa music?!"
Corbin, Archibald, and Jasper grunted in unison as they followed like triplets thanks to the matching embroidery running down their borrowed shirts. Ten minutes later, after a short drive down the mountain, they arrived at the anniversary party. Gunner shut off the jeep, the engine giving a final tick-tick as he turned around to address everyone.
"Rule number one." He lifted his index finger. "And it's the only rule. DO NOT make me regret you coming tonight."
"Well, I regret having to borrow one of your dress shirts!" Corbin complained as he tugged at the collar.
"I mean it, Corbin! It's a special night for my parents."
"Relax, Miguel." Clara rubbed his shoulder. "It'll be a glorious night."
"Famous last words..." Jasper said as he climbed out.
When they walked into the home, salsa music slammed into them, along with the aroma of Mexican food and the buzz of conversations fusing with bursts of laughter. They weaved their way past furniture and family members who greeted them with hugs and air-kisses. When they made it to the backyard, Corbin's eyes flicked to the long table with a buffet-style spread of food, and his stomach rumbled. Off to the side, tiki torches bordered a dance area, where guests showed off their moves while a live band played music.
If Corbin had to guess, at least sixty people were crammed in the backyard celebrating, which added to the thirty already inside the house.
"Oh..." Clara frowned. "Looks like not everyone could make it."
"Are you serious?" Corbin asked.
"Miguel's family is enormous. This isn't even half of them, so I bet his Mom is disappointed with the low turnout."
"Oh, you are serious."
Off in the Corner, a table flipped over as two drunk family members shoved each other while stumbling over their feet. They shouted incomprehensible words in Spanish as other family members tried pulling them apart.
"Eres un cobarde! Digamelo en la cara!"
"Coma mierda!"
Family members watched on while taking shots of tequila, their arms strewn across each other's shoulders as they doubled over laughing. Meanwhile, a few of the elderly guests sat peacefully at one of the tables eating, as if all was well.
"Looks like we arrived just in time." Gunner swiped a few tequila shots from the table next to them and bumped Corbin's elbow, handing him one.
"Shouldn't we do something about this?" Corbin accepted the shot.
"Nah. It's not a good party until someone gets into a fight. Besides, my uncles will be back to hugging it out in about five minutes." Right as the words rolled off Gunner's tongue, the two men began laughing and clinging to one another as if they were in on a secret joke. "And there you go! All is well again."
"What was that fight even about?" Corbin asked, but Gunner's attention was pulled away by a family member whispering into his ear.
It had been years since he last watched television, but he could recall the last thing he saw, which was The Godfather. As the family member spoke into Gunner's ear, it reminded him of the men who often leaned into Don Corleone, whispering something serious. Gunner's expression faded into concern as his brows pushed together.
When the family member slipped away, Gunner said, "I'll be back. You stay here."
"Is everything ok?"
Gunner nodded and pushed his way past family members swaying to salsa music under the flicker Christmas lights. He headed for Archibald and Jasper, who were serving themselves a plate of green enchiladas, and leaned into them with his arms going across their shoulders. Their bodies formed a small huddle as he whispered, which prompted them to set their plates aside and fold their arms as they absorbed his words.
Something was wrong, and Corbin didn't like the feeling churning in his stomach, so he followed them as they broke away from the party. Instead of walking through the house, they walked around it, sneaking past the wooden fence that separated the front yard. He tiptoed behind them, but when they opened the doors for the jeep, he rushed from the shadows.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"Go back inside, Corbin," Gunner replied.
"No. What's going on?"
"You're such a fool." Gunner shook his head. "I tell you to stay back at the party, but you follow us out here? No wonder you've gotten yourself into this mess with The Hounds!"
"Oh, come on, that's not fair!"
"Go back to the party! Eat something, and stay out of our way."
"Excuse me?"
"You want to know why?" Gunner asked, and when Corbin drew his head back with a shake, he continued, "Because my cousin Abraham overheard a conversation when he was downtown. One of our neighbors was running their mouth about a witcher helping them dig a well on their property, and it grabbed a Scout's attention sitting across the bar."
"I.. I'll leave," Corbin sputtered out. "I brought them here since they're tracking me."
"No." Gunner shook his head. "We need to get rid of them. Understand?"
"You're going to kill the Scouts?"
"And the neighbor."
"What?"
"It has to be done, Corbin, because they weren't referring to you. They were talking about Clara."
"Oh..."
"Now go back to the party and keep Clara distracted. She can't find out what we're doing. Got it?"
Corbin nodded. Or was he trembling?
As Gunner, Archibald and Jasper drove off, he feared that killing the Scouts would only make matters worse.
***
Alright, if you've made it this far, then from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for sticking with me.