Leave a Trail (20 page)

“Can I come in there?”

“Sure. Just come up slowly. I’m working with him on standing pat, but he can still be a little skittish.”

Nolan jumped the fence and walked over. Spirit immediately began checking him out for goodies, and he laughed and rubbed his ears. “He’s two years old, right?”

Coming up empty on Nolan, the colt came back to nibble on Badger. “That’s enough sugar, buddy. Your teeth are gonna rot out of your head. I’ll get you a carrot in a minute…Not quite two. I probably won’t put a saddle on him until next spring. He’s not done growing, and he’s still full of piss. But he’s smart, and he likes doing this. He thinks he’s playing.”

“Havoc was gonna teach me to ride. He was gonna teach me to shoot and fight and ride horses and bikes. He only taught me to shoot.”

Badger looked at Havoc’s kid. He was tall—taller than Badger—and thin, but not scrawny. He looked older than his seventeen years, looked like a guy who’d already had a shitty life. Badger guessed he already had. “I can teach you to ride—horses or bikes. I could teach you to fight, too, but Len is a great teacher, and he’d do it. He taught me.”

Nolan shrugged again.

“I know it’s not the same, Nolan. But you know…if you want to learn, just say the word.” He walked Spirit out of the corral and into the barn; Nolan followed them in. Changing out the longe line for a regular lead, he tied the colt off in the aisle. “Hang out with him for a second, will ya? I’m gonna get him a couple carrots and then brush him down.”

“Can I brush him?”

“Sure. Brushes are on that shelf. Use the one that looks like a scrub brush, but don’t go hard. And he likes the mitt at the end. Don’t go against the lay of his coat.”

“I know. I’ve been paying attention.”

“Good.” Badger left him to it and went back to the fridge for carrots. On his way back, he stopped in the doorway and watched Nolan and Spirit talking to each other as Nolan brushed. They both seemed calmer together than they normally were.

He brought two carrots up and handed them to Nolan, who took them, snapped one in two, and laid half on his outstretched palm. Spirit lipped it carefully and then chewed happily.

“I want to learn all those things. I want to prospect. When can I?”

Badger wasn’t surprised, but he felt cautious. He had no idea how Cory would react. Rumor had it that she hadn’t been thrilled at the thought of Nolan patching into the Horde
before
Havoc had been killed. So he answered the other part of the question. “I can start teaching you to ride today, if you want.”

“I meant when can I prospect.”

“Not so simple as that. Technically, you can prospect when you’re eighteen. But with everything that’s been going on, we’re leery of bringing men in too young.”

“You were young, though, right?”

“I was nineteen when I got my Prospect patch.”

“That turned out okay.”

Badger laughed sourly. “I guess.”

“You regret it?”

“No. But it’s not an easy life. You know that. Everything’s on the line, all the time. It was like that when I was a Prospect, and it’s been like that over and over again since. Sometimes it’s quiet, but I almost hate those times, because you forget what it is you’ve put on the line. And then the quiet ends, and you lose what you forgot was at risk.” He shook his head, feeling embarrassed. “I don’t even know if that made any sense.”

“It did. Hav said something like it when he told me I should try college first.”

“Then maybe you should do what he said.”

“No. I’m never leaving my family. Badge, I mean it. I am never leaving my family. Here is the only place I want to be. The Horde is the only family my mom and I have ever really had. It’s what I want.”

“What about your mom? She lost a lot because of us. You did, too. You think she’s willing to risk you, too?”

“It’s not for her to decide. It’s for me. I want a patch.”

He stared hard at Nolan, and thought harder, before he spoke. “I’ll talk to the officers. If that’s what you want, you definitely need to learn to fight and ride before you’re eighteen. And you need a bike.”

Nolan went still, staring at the floor. Then he looked up. “Do you think they’d let me have his bike?”

Badger’s supposed he shouldn’t have been shocked. It made sense, really. Havoc’s custom Softail was under cover in the clubhouse bays, the property of the Horde, and they would keep it and tend it as long as the club existed. “It’s not a bike to learn on, Nolan. You don’t want to lay that bike down. But I’ll talk to the officers about that, too. Maybe if you get your patch.”

“That’s the bike I want to ride.”

“You learn on one of our loaners. Or on your own. Not on Hav’s bike.”

“My bike is in pieces in our garage. Hav was helping me restore it.”

“I could help you work on it. I’m not as good as Hav. He was a fuckin’ genius. But I know most of it and we could learn the rest.”

Nolan didn’t answer.

“Well, if you want. Or not. It’s cool.”

“That was our thing. We were doing it together.”

“I know. I get it.”

“No, you don’t. I’m gonna wait for my mom on the porch. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked down the aisle and out of the barn.

~oOo~

Though the Midsummer Fair they held at the end of July was a typical fair, with carnival rides and games, music and fireworks, the Spring Fest had a different vibe. All the food booths were still there—in fact, even more food booths were there—but the only rides they had were for the little kids. It wasn’t a carnival so much as a big block party. The Signal Bend Spring Fest was a celebration of the beginning of the farming season. People ate and drank heavily. Their kids played in the corner where the few games and rides were set up. And the women of the town and its environs sold crafts on card tables. Despite the comparative lack of color and flash, the Spring Fest had had a reputation in its first incarnation for rowdiness by the end of the evening. Since it had been back underway, it continued to earn that rep.

Which meant that the Horde was on alert. Even though the town sentiment toward the club had chilled, their duty to keep order was unchanged. They’d taken on that responsibility long ago, when the police department had folded for lack of funding.  The mayor continued to look to them to do that work, and the town business owners paid them to do it. That their days of universal respect and esteem seemed to have come to an end did not change their responsibility.

But it sure didn’t make it easier.

Today was a “goodwill” day for the Horde. They were out in force, manning their usual barbecue stand and walking through the crowd, making a concerted effort to be warm and friendly. Not that they weren’t usually. But it was a lot harder to be friendly when it was one-sided, and they were all noticing the chill.

The Horde with families brought their families. Isaac had Lilli and the kids along. Show and Shannon were, as usual, hand in hand—Shannon was about five months pregnant or so and looked twice that size. They were having twins, something they’d only found out recently. Show had started wearing a permanent expression that was lost in limbo somewhere between ecstatic, bewildered, and terrified.

Cory had come with Nolan and Loki. Len and Tasha had ridden their bikes in together, which always caused a stir. She was the only old lady who rode. Lilli apparently knew how, and had once owned a pretty badass sportbike, but as far as Badger was aware, she only rode bitch now.

Badger had brought Adrienne and was enjoying walking through the stalls and the crowd with her, their fingers linked together. She was beautiful, dressed on this warm Saturday a lot like she’d been the day he’d met her: little denim cutoffs, a filmy top that showed a little slice of belly, her cowboy boots, and her jewelry. She wore a lot less jewelry these days than she had back then. Then, she’d had bracelets practically up to both elbows and rings on all ten fingers. Now, she wore a few bracelets on both arms and three rings on each hand. She said she’d gotten out of the habit of accessorizing so heavily when she was teaching in Asia.

In the past, when she’d visited in the summer and the weather was even warmer, she’d worn a silver bracelet that snaked around her upper arm. He hoped she’d still wear that—that thing was hot as the sun. And these days, when she turned him on,  he could do something about it.

She’d been subdued since she’d talked to her father last, when he’d told her she had to come home. Obviously, she hadn’t left, and he had, so far, done as he’d threatened, refusing even to take her calls. She stopped trying after about a week. That was a few days ago, and, honestly, she was doing better now. Calling, leaving increasingly sad voice mails, and waiting to hear back and been clawing hard at her. Giving up was making things a little easier, he thought.

She talked to her brothers, but they wouldn’t talk about their father. So Adrienne, it seemed, had really lost her father.

Badger couldn’t believe it was true. He was sorely tempted to ride all the way to New York state and convince that asshole how bad a mistake he was making. But there was another part of him that was, he was ashamed to admit even to himself, glad. He liked that there was less pulling on her, drawing her away from Signal Bend, away from him. For years, he’d been her friend mainly from afar. Now she was his girl, and he wanted her to stay put.

But she was sad, and he didn’t like that. Even if it did help him to feel strong, after he’d been so weak and pathetic, strung out and violent. She’d taken care of him. Now he was taking care of her, and he liked that very much.

She roamed the grounds with her camera while he did his turn in the barbecue booth. As soon as he was free, he went looking for her. He found her at the St. John’s booth, where church ladies were selling quilts and other old lady stuff. It looked like she was taking close-ups of a quilt hanging on the side of the booth. Or something. He walked up behind her and laid his hand on her back. Not startled at all, she turned and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hey. I got sprung. You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

As he pulled her away toward the food area, Badger saw that Havoc’s mother was working the booth. Havoc’s parents—well, his father, really—had been active in turning people against the Horde, speaking out several times, at town meetings, at Marie’s, even at Havoc’s funeral. Seeing Havoc’s mother, Badger didn’t know what he should do, but he decided on politeness. Politeness came easily to him.

“Hi, Mrs. Mariano.”

She smiled sweetly, genuinely. “Hello, Justin. And Adrienne, right? You’re Shannon’s girl.”

Adrienne held out her hand. “Yes, ma’am. Adrienne Renard.”

“Nice to meet you, honey. I’m June.” Then she seemed to see something behind them, and her face took on an aspect of shock and sadness. Also something like…hunger. “Oh,” she whispered. She glanced around her as if she was about to get caught doing something bad.

Badger looked, too, and saw Cory and Lilli walking down the path, their brood with them. Cory was holding Loki, who was ten months old and starting to walk. He was pitching a minor fit now, obviously not into being held.

Loki was Havoc’s son, born two months before he died. Thus, Loki was Mrs. Mariano’s grandson. Badger didn’t know much about what was going on between Havoc’s wife and his parents, but he knew that Mrs. Mariano didn’t get much chance to see her grandchild. Mr. Mariano wouldn’t allow it.

“Cory? Honey?” she called out.

Badger pulled Adrienne out of the way, but he didn’t go far, just in case the situation went south. Because Cory looked over, and about one thousand different expressions hit her face simultaneously, none of them friendly.

“Cory? Please?”

Lilli put her hand on Cory’s arm and said something; after a couple of seconds, Cory nodded. When she turned and came toward the booth, Lilli hung back, but she gave Badger a look. Badger and Lilli had been through some real shit together, and he knew how she thought. He knew that look meant
You and me, we’re keeping this cool
.

He bent his head close to Adrienne’s ear. “Babe, step back a bit.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll explain later, but there’s something happening that could get a little hot. Not big, but some drama.”

She nodded and did what he asked.

Although Loki had been yelling and squirming, something must have changed in the way Cory held him, or the vibe she gave off, because he’d gone still. He was a cute kid, with Havoc’s light olive complexion and black eyes. He had dark, curly hair. Badger had no idea whether Havoc had had curly hair; he’d shaved his head for all the time he’d known him. But he was a loud, rambunctious kid, definitely taking after his old man in that regard and already giving Princess Gia a run for her money in the attention-seeking department.

When Cory got up to the booth, she said, her voice flat and calm, “Hello, June.”

Mrs. Mariano started to cry. “Can I hold him? Oh, hi, sweetie. You are the spittin’ image of your daddy. Cory, please. Can I hold him? Please?”

They were drawing a crowd. The other church ladies, three of them—horrible gossips all, with sharp, nasty tongues—were lined up behind Havoc’s mother, watching avidly, without any compunction about intruding into this scene.

Other people around were stopping to watch, too. Although a lot of people from out of town were at the Fest, and they moved on unconcerned, the townspeople knew all the business there was to know, and they were all interested. Badger caught Lilli’s eyes again, and she gave a subtle shrug. There was nothing they could do about the looky-loos. This scene was playing out in public.

Cory nodded and handed Loki over the booth’s counter. June took the boy and clutched him to her chest. Loki fought immediately for freedom, but his grandmother wasn’t letting him go. She held him close and sobbed.

Having collapsed completely following Havoc’s death, even trying to kill herself, Cory had taken a long time to come back to life. Havoc had died in September; now it was May. She was working again, and she was out in the world again, but she was different. Maybe she always would be. A light had gone out, maybe forever. She watched Mrs. Mariano hold Loki and weep, and she could just as easily have been watching grass grow. Her face showed no emotion or interest at all.