*** Well hey! Listen, I don't want to sound braggy, but I just want to point out that I have consistently updated this thing every week since I first posted it. Look at me! Doing the bare minimum!***
Gabe
Friends, Gabe had learned early in his life, were like a warm day in late fall. They were a welcome change and it felt nice to have them around, but they never lasted very long and they always gave way to misery. All the friends he'd made through his years had gone the way of the sun at dusk, driven into hiding by the stark darkness of Gabe's existence. It wasn't their fault, just like it wasn't the sun's fault it had to sink beneath the horizon. It was just the way of things that the lonely dark eclipsed the good.
Even Katherine had gone, and he had once thought her a sun that would never stop shining.
It was with grudging, reluctant gratitude that he had to admit Josh Tucker was a stubborn exception to the rule that had claimed every other man or woman he might have called a friend. In the beginning, as boys, they'd bonded over a shared disdain for God-- outward expression of a soul-deep self loathing that was born of the poison they'd been fed all their lives. They were bastards. Children of sin. Walking, breathing manifestations of the devil's earthly intent.
As they grew into men, they remained close. Their complaint was no longer with God, but with the humans who used that name to push them into roles they didn't want to fill and punish the people they loved. Gabe hated the preacher and the townspeople. He hated the men who used the girls and then spat at their feet in the cold light of the public street. He hated the married women who made eyes at him in the back of the corner store and then sicced their rabid husbands on him in the alley out back. He hated the Sunday night crowd, so full of poisonous invective and stifled lust. Josh, by contrast, didn't have so much hate in his heart. He wasn't a social pariah. The folks in town adored him. But where Gabe had a mother who sang her love and praise for him so relentlessly it bordered on annoying, Josh was an outcast in his home. What they truly shared was that bone-deep weariness that came from the constant fight, even if their only common enemy was the reverend.
When Josh's fortunes had changed, leaving him married to a woman he adored and owner of the most successful ranch in the territory, Gabe had waited stubbornly for his friend to disappear into the woodwork of polite society. Just as stubbornly, Josh had continued to show up at the saloon on quiet afternoons, often with his wife in tow. They had continued to drink whiskey together in sullen, companionable silence. Josh had continued to teach him, in bits and spurts, everything he knew about livestock. Gabe continued to soak up the man's every word, Katherine's long-ago indictment on a loop inside his head.
"What kind of future can you offer us? Will we raise a baby girl to be a prostitute? Bring up a little boy who beats people up for room and board?"
Not that Gabe would ever have the mind of a rancher or the skill of a wrangler, but it was something, and something was a damn sight better than nothing.
There were many people for whom Gabe would lay down whatever scraps remained of his misbegotten life, but there were very few for whom he would kill. Josh and Amelia Tucker counted among that number. They were good people. Kind, honorable people with a courageous and near saintly disregard for the hatred that cloaked the little town in which they were all but royalty.
If Gabe was honest, though, one of the real reasons he liked Josh Tucker was the simple fact that the man never seemed to anger. He was as cool and steady as a deep, winding river. What few outbursts Gabe had seen from him had been precisely calculated and intentional. He was not one to lash out. For Gabe, whose entire life revolved around passion in all its heated forms, Josh's level-headed grasp on his own emotions was a pleasant respite.
It was a bit of a shock, then, when Gabe looked up from where he was bent over a horse's hoof, pick in hand, and saw the looming shadow of a man in the door to the stables. It took him a second to recognize his even-tempered friend, so potent was the man's fury. He all but had steam coming out of his ears, standing there with his hands on his hips and his face bright red, breathing as if he'd run all the way here from the ranch.
"Josh," Gabe said, setting the horse's foot back on the straw-strewn floor and straightening. If his friend had a mind to hit him, he probably deserved it. He wouldn't dodge the blow, but he'd at least like to be upright for it.
Josh stalked forward, grabbed Gabe by the sleeve, and shoved him toward the nearby tack room. Anyone else would have earned themselves a fist to the face and a mid-afternoon nap with that little maneuver, but Josh had a pass where other men didn't. If he was really this upset, it was probably for a good reason.
The tack room was little more than a broom closet, but it offered more privacy than the stables, which Gabe had left open so the cool, late-morning breeze could sweep away the heat of the animals and the subtle reek of manure.
"What's this about, Josh?" he asked, leaning back against the worktable and bracing his hands on the rough wooden surface.
The other man glared, propping himself against the door and crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't play dumb, Gabe," he snapped. "You want to tell me why Reverend Peters showed up at my property today? Harassed my family about your long lost love?"
Again, anyone else would have gotten socked in the jaw for the mockery, and if Josh went much further or raised his voice any higher, his pass would expire quickly. Gabe might deserve whatever fury he had coming his way, but Katherine didn't deserve to be exposed just because Josh Tucker had decided to finally lose his trademark cool.
"Keep your voice down," Gabe said, jerking his chin toward the door. "These walls aren't that thick."
"I'll keep my voice down if you tell me what the hell is going on," Josh snapped. "He came to my home, Gabe. My home. Pa's losing his mind with worry that we'll be attacked again, and Reb won't stop asking questions because the damned preacher decided to demand answers in front of her. And Amelia's in a downright panic. She thinks..." he trailed off, lowering his face and closing his eyes. When he looked up, the anger in his eyes had faded, replaced by wary, sympathetic despair. "She thinks Katherine might be dead, Gabe."
Gabe knew well enough that she wasn't. That she was, in fact, tucked away safe in his bed not a hundred yards away, sleeping peacefully. Nonetheless, the mere words sent an icy chill down his spine and he shivered in spite of the stuffy heat of the tack room.
"She's not dead," he said lowly, shaking his head at the ground and scuffing the rough surface with his boot. He didn't debate how much to tell his friend. Josh was one of few people who truly shared his hatred for the reverend. He wouldn't betray Katherine's presence. "She ran away," he said, lowering his voice to a near whisper.
Silence greeted him, and he looked up to see his friend pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, shoulders rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. When he looked up, both anger and sympathy were gone from his face, replaced by the cold, collected resolve that Gabe recognized well. It was the only expression he'd ever really seen on his friend's face, until Amelia had come around. Now he was all goofy grins and wistful glances. It was a little sickening, if he was honest.
"Where is she?" Josh asked stonily.
"My room," Gabe answered, just as devoid of emotion. Nevermind that it was a ruse, his heart thundering in his chest.
"She alright?"
"Beat to hell, but she'll be okay. Fever broke yesterday and she's getting stronger."
"You need me to send Melissa?"
Gabe gnawed on the inside of his lip. In truth, he did want Josh's little sister to come and take a look at Katherine. The girl was as close to a doctor as this town would probably ever see, smarter than the last three hacks that had rolled through put together. Plus she was a woman, so perhaps Katherine would feel more comfortable talking to her.
"It'll draw attention," he said reluctantly. Much as he wanted a second set of eyes to confirm his hope that Katherine was recovering, it wasn't worth the risk.
Josh shrugged. "You can say one of the girls is sick," he offered. "Wouldn't be the first time. And anyway, 'Lis and Amelia have been pestering me for a trip to town. We could do the whole thing in the middle of the day and nobody would look at us twice. We're not strangers at this place."
It was a risk, but perhaps no greater a risk than having Katherine around in the first place. No greater risk than letting her lay there with his guesswork and shoddy bandaging the only thing holding her together.
"You can't tell a soul," he said, slumping back against the table.
"We won't." Wood creaked as Josh shifted to lean against the table next to him, nudging Gabe's elbow with his own. "You gonna tell me what the hell misadventure led to this little turn of events?"
Gabe sighed, shaking his head. He was damned tired. Something about finally having this secret off his shoulders drew his attention to the ache in his back and the scratchy burn in his eyes. He thought for a moment of the home Josh would go home to when this day was over. His big, beautiful home with the wraparound porch. His smiling, gregarious little girl and his beautiful, loving wife. Envy was an ugly thing, but Gabe couldn't help the twinge. He didn't want Josh's house or his wife or his daughter. He just wanted his own. He wanted his own house that he could lock up tight each night to keep the darkness and the evils at bay. He wanted Katherine and, much as the little imp annoyed him, he wanted Isobel. Wanted them safe under his roof and warm by his fire. Not just until they found a better place to go. He wanted to be the better place, and if that wasn't the stupidest thought he'd ever had...
"He hits her," he said numbly, staring at the ground. He needed to sweep in here. The floor was strewn with hay and clumps of mud. "Always has, but you know that. He took it too far the other night. Too far for Katherine, I mean. He hit Isobel--"
"Is she alright?" Josh jerked upright, whirling around with his hands clenched into fists. "I swear, if he hurt that little girl, Gabe--"
"She's fine," he said, stalling the furious tirade. "Not fine, obviously, but she's not badly hurt. Just a bruise, and it's already fading. Katherine, though..." he shuddered, thinking of her battered body. "He hurt her bad, Josh. Lord knows how she managed to do it, beat like she was, but she got hold of something heavy and brained him. Knocked him out, tied him up, and ran for it."
Josh hummed in thoughtful approval. "Ran to you," he said pointedly, although Gabe thought it didn't really need saying.
"I told her she could," he said, trying to get ahead of the assumptions Josh would make. "She had nowhere else to go."
"She can come to the ranch," his friend offered quickly, reminding Gabe once again why they were friends in the first place. He'd never met a better man than Josh Tucker, and it made sense that the two of them would bond. They were flip sides of the same coin, wrought by the same ugly fire into two very different versions of a man. Sometimes Gabe wished he'd turned out good, but then he saw the toll it took on his friend. Being good wasn't easy. It was a constant struggle, and Gabe had enough fighting to do without doing battle with his own evil.
"It might come to that," he answered, shrugging a shoulder. "I can't keep her here forever. Isobel is getting antsy from being cooped up, and Katherine's been waking up more, lately. She'll probably want to be moving on soon. I'll talk to her this evening, see what her intentions are. I thought maybe she'd want to go to her parents. If not, we'll have to figure something else out."
Josh sighed heavily. "When should I bring Melissa?"
"Anytime," he answered. "Not like Katherine's going anywhere, and I hardly ever leave."
"Right," Josh nodded. "Tomorrow sound alright? Late afternoon?"
Relief was like a fist to the gut, nearly doubling him over. Tomorrow, late afternoon, Melissa would come. She would talk to Katherine and confirm that she was alright. The jig was up. Josh knew, and he didn't judge or question. He'd help Gabe keep them safe, help him find somewhere to send them where the reverend would never find them. Katherine and Isobel would be alright. His life would go back to the way it had been.
Did he want that?
He wanted to sleep in a bed instead of a chair, and he wanted a little peace from Isobel's constant chatter. He wanted to know that Katherine and her daughter were safe. He wanted the added danger removed from this place that housed his mother and the girls. But beyond that... no. He wanted them in his space, forever. He could get used to Isobel's chaos. Hell, he'd miss it more when it was gone than he missed the quiet right now. And he didn't want his whole bed back, just half of it. Half the covers, one of the pillows, and a soft, warm body-- strong and unhurt-- lying next to him.
Shaking himself out of the absurd daydream, he nodded at Josh. "Tomorrow," he confirmed, lowering his face so his friend couldn't see the nonsense bouncing around in his idiot head.
He saw Josh out and finished looking after the horses in a sort of fugue. The past few days, caring for Katherine, had been nothing short of a nightmare. Seeing her so sick and in so much pain had felt as if someone was carving out his insides with a rusty spoon. Now that it was coming to an end, though, his mind was spinning through options, churning up plots to convince them to stay even after she recovered.
Each thought was more absurd than the last. Even if he got rid of Jacob... Even if he got away with the murder... Even if the townspeople didn't shun Katherine for turning to him... Even if all the stars aligned and they were safe here, in this town, his home would never be theirs. Katherine had said it herself-- she wanted a real future for her child. She wanted a real home and a God-fearing man with a proper job. An angel might indulge in a dalliance with a demon, but she'd never marry one. Even Persephone left the underworld behind for half the year.
Wrestling his mind back under his control, he fixed it on the task at hand. Groom the horses. Clean the stalls. Sweep the floor of the tackroom. Feed and fresh water in the trough, manure in the wheelbarrow. For as long as possible, he kept himself from the soft energy that had turned his musty, barren room into something akin to a home. Even weak and in pain, Katherine had roused herself throughout the past two days to entertain her daughter. Her soft voice and Isobel's answering giggles were like milk and honey. What would life be like, with that sweetness a steady presence?
"What kind of future can you offer us? Will we raise a baby girl to be a prostitute? Bring up a little boy who beats people up for room and board?"
The words, echoing back from the distant past, jolted him back to reality and the cold, cruel truth. Yeah, he'd been working to expand his skillset and make himself into the kind of man who could hold an honest job. But at the end of the day, there was no changing who he was. There was no changing that his life was set in stone, burned like a brand into the fabric of his soul. His hands would always be dirty.
Maybe, if he left his mother's business and found a good job at a ranch or a farm, if he picked himself up and moved far away where nobody knew them, Katherine would link her arm with his and walk with him down the street. Let him kiss her. Let him replace that monster's name with his own.
Maybe he could win over her heart, but she was no longer just one person. No longer just one heart. She was a mother. The woman she'd been might have lowered her standards and met him somewhere in the middle. The mother never would, and how could he blame her?
When the time came, he'd have to let them go.
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