Light the Hidden Things (27 page)

She touched his arm. "You don't need to do that."

"I know. That makes it all the more important to me."

"I can't..." Lila shifted uncomfortably. "What if something happens to you?"

"It won't."

She turned to the Pastor. "Make him listen."

Crow said, "I already listened once. That's why I'm here. That's all the listening you all get."

Pastor Richards sighed. He told Lila, "You're looking at a severe overload of obligation. Don't fight it. Save your breath for when he tries to do too much. I expect plenty of opportunities."

Lila drew herself a bit taller. She held Crow's gaze. "Everything's terms with you. You want terms? Here's mine: I'm the boss. I assign the job. You do it. Nothing more."

He took off the Stetson, bowed his head. "Yes, ma'am."

She partially smothered her grin. "And don't get smart with the boss. You don't leave here until I - and a good doctor - say you can. That's the deal, and if I make a deal, I stay with it if it kills me."

Dismay fell on her as soon at his reaction. His eyes changed focus. He looked through her. She knew he was the thing that gnawed his soul. He recovered quickly, sending her a thin smile. She hoped hers was more convincing. Walking back toward her car, her thoughts flashed to the long trip home. It had given her time to think. Possibly too much. The primary concern was the presence that had twice found its way into her mind.

She liked the gender-free word
presence,
despite her conviction the unnamed visitor who spoke to her was a woman.
Ghost
conjured fear.
Alien
sounded all flying saucer-ish. She wrestled with
paranormal
and decided it just didn't fit. Rather, for something that was so out of the ordinary, the whole experience seemed way too normal. That was the larger surprise of the matter. Instead of eerie wisdom from another world, this woman seemed only to be saying that one finds the one's path through values, rather than cool logic alone. She also seemed to suggest that the path had many branches, some of them terribly wrong and never clearly marked.

Lila was utterly certain the presence was deeply involved in Crow's condition.

She was terrified of finding out what that involvement was and desperate to learn.

Why would a woman do such damage to a man?

What did the he do to deserve it?

Ask yourself what you need most to know, fear most to learn: Was it his wife?

The possibilities inherent in the last question birthed a tiny, vicious thing in the darkest corner of her mind. And still she wanted to help him so much it was a physical ache.

The Pastor's worried, "Crow? Are you all right?" spun her around. Richards was moving to make sure Crow stayed upright.

"I'm ok, Pastor. A little dizzy. It's gone now." Crow shrugged himself clear of the Pastor's reach and stretched. "I think I better get some sleep, though. It's been a long day. I'm sorry you all had to stay over last night. My fault, having to get Major to the vet. You all should have been home yesterday."

The Pastor said, "No problem. Get that sleep."

Lila said, "You go on home, Pastor. I'll help Crow and Major get settled in."

At the sound of his name, Major sent them a sharp bark from the trailer, making clear his disapproval of being left out of things. It made Lila smile. Crow brightened a bit. He waved goodbye to the Pastor as he told her, "Don't think I'm not onto you. You really want Major here, not me."

Entering the game, she said, "Curses. I was being so smooth, too."

They stepped up into the Airstream. Major wiggled welcome, butting Crow's knee forcefully, then pushing against Lila. There wasn't much room to stumble around in the Airstream. Lila tried to catch herself and Crow moved swiftly to help. They ended up with hands on each other's shoulders. Their eyes met. Both stared surprise - and more - at the other.

Major, oblivious to the havoc he'd already created, leaned into Lila again. The sheer bulk of him against the back of her knees practically took her legs out from under her. She sagged backwards. Crow reacted more quickly than she believed possible. His hands dropped to her waist. Her hands were still on his shoulders, clutching. She felt muscles stretch and tighten under strain. Her weight rocked him. He made a sound deep in his chest, braced. Then she was dangling, her feet in a mad dance seeking balance.

Smoothly, catlike, he pulled her erect. Momentum swayed her forward. Into mutual embrace.

Fear - a delighting, exciting fear - surged through her so fast it seemed her blood was burning.

Everything in Lila told her to step back. Babble apologies. Run for her sanity, if not her life. She had never hated an idea so much.

What am I doing? What do I do next?

She felt his grip relax. It was reluctant. Her heart beat so fast it stuttered. His cheek was against hers, the jawline solid, like warm stone. There were bristles, exciting against her skin she knew was flaming red.

Embarrassment? Yes. More than that?

I can't. I mustn't.

They parted awkwardly. Lila was relieved to see he was as flustered as she was. It pleased her. He'd held her a fraction longer than absolutely necessary. He found her attractive; that set off another jolt of the earlier fear. This time she savored it in spite of herself, recognized it as anticipation. She was sure - wanted to be sure - there was more to his reluctance to break the embrace than plain physical attraction.

The quiet voice of reason reminded her that Crow was a lonely man, but one very likely accustomed to embraces, few of them accidental. Still, she couldn't picture him as what Aunt Lila would've called a butterfly.

The quiet voice of reason was scratchy and irritating. She turned it off.

It wasn't reason or logic that had her thinking she might melt any moment. The sensation of his body against hers stayed, as warm and clinging as paint.

She pushed Major out of the way and stepped back further, saying, "I'm sorry. That was so clumsy."

So cool. So bogus. You're vibrating inside. You wanted him to hold you. Wanted it to never stop.

His voice was so tight it practically twanged like a banjo. "The dog... He just gets enthusiastic. Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine, fine. Just lost my balance. Thanks for holding me. I mean, I was falling. Down. You know." Her hands whipped the air, a puppet's herky-jerky. She wanted to die.

Nice work, idiot. You had it there for almost a whole second. Get out. Now.

Crow took her elbow in hand. "Major and I'll walk you to the house. He needs out before we turn in."

Her smile was thanks. And it saved her from having to speak any more. By the time they reached her front steps she was in better control. From the porch she looked down at him. She said, "I'm glad you and Major came back with us. You've made friends here." Inside, Zasu barked confirmation, making them both smile.

He said, "We're grateful. I meant what I said about helping. Not just because I owe you, either. I admire the spirit that's making you do it. I guess I'm sort of glad to be part of it."

She laughed. "Well, I'm sort of glad to have the help. That makes us even."

He half-saluted and left. Behind him, her entry into the house was the creak of the sagging screen door followed by a splash of light when she hit the switch. Zasu's yaps punctuated all of it.

When Crow was sure she wasn't watching, he stopped and faced her building again. His hand dropped to where Major's head waited. Crow said, "Look at me, checking to see she's all right. She's lived out here alone for who-knows-how-long, and here I am, acting like some sort of caretaker." He waited until the windows in the back of the building lit up before continuing toward his trailer.

Major coursed the parking lot and beyond into the fire pit area. Ranging in a large circle, he was no more than sound in the night when he stopped abruptly. Crow stopped, as well. He whistled, a high, carrying note. The answering bark was muted, a huffing noise. Crow hurried toward it. Nearing Major, Crow noted his stiff posture, almost on point like a bird dog. Major held to that as Crow came up beside him. Crow said, "What is it, buddy? We have a prowler?"

A heavy growl rolled up from Major's chest. He took a step forward. Crow grabbed his collar. "No, you don't. Heel. We go together." Side by side, they advanced.

Something distant scurried through brush in noisy departure. Major lunged ahead. A sharp "Stop!" from Crow brought him to a twitching halt. Patting the dog's shoulder, Crow praised him, then said, "You're as bad as me, you clown. We don't even belong here and we're snooping around in the dark like we're on patrol. Come on, we're going to bed. You're too beat up to tackle a field mouse."

Major grinned up at him to show he could take a joke.

In the trailer, Crow found himself sleepy, but too tense. Turning off all the lights but a small one over the table, he poured a shot of whiskey and sat down. Elbows on the surface, chin in his hands, he stared into the amber liquid. It gleamed back at him. He said, "Don't look your lies at me, creature. You had me by the throat once and I beat you. You're just a beverage. Maybe medicine - expensive aspirin. So do me some good." He drained the glass. Then he rinsed and buffed it sparkling dry before putting it away. Twenty minutes later he was still at the table, frowning out the window at the darkness. His head ached. Getting up, he put his hand on the door to go out, then drew it back. He retreated to a cabinet, took out a box of stationery. Hunched over the table in the faint light, he wrote.

My darling Patricia,

It's been a long time since I wrote. I'm sorry. I know I don't have to explain to you. The letters always make me feel better, though. I've told you that a thousand times, too, haven't I? You always said I was crazy. Guess you were right. I always thought crazy about you was crazy enough.

I'm stalling, aren't I?

You know what happened tonight. You know I never planned a bit of it. I'm never sure exactly how much you see or how much you know my thoughts. When I was fighting the whiskey and the really bad times I told myself I didn't care what you saw or thought. I'm really sorry about that. You know I've got a problem with God because of all that happened. I still believe He's got His angels and you're one of them. And I remember the time you told me I should find someone else if something happened to you. I only agreed so you'd stop such foolish talk. All the time we were together, that's the one time you really frightened me. I still

Never mind. Something happened tonight. I guess the only fair way to put it is to say it's been happening for a while. I just wouldn't look it in the eye. She makes me feel the way you did. She makes me feel necessary. And like I could be whole again. It scares me, Patricia, really scares me. Not the way you did when you talked about leaving me alone. It scares me the way I felt when Joe told me you'd been drinking all that time. I hurt you so much and I never knew it until it was way too late. Tonight I looked in Lila's eyes and all I could think of was I wanted to keep holding her and keep looking in her eyes. The way I felt with you. I can't have that. I can't get mixed up with another woman because I'd feel like I was cheating. But there's more to it than that. The thing is, I can't take a chance on hurting someone the way I hurt you.

Everybody tells me I shouldn't blame myself for what happened to you. Some even said if I felt I had to take the blame, it was all right because God forgave me. I don't believe it. I don't even care. He let it all happen and now He thinks he can make it right just by telling me I'm forgiven? I don't want His forgiveness. All I want is you back. I can't have that. I know. What I can have is the sense to not damage some other woman. But I like her. She makes me want to think about tomorrow. When I was holding her, I cared if I lived. I haven't felt staying alive was important since the moment the Colonel told me there'd been an accident and I was going home. Right then I wanted to die. I wanted to for quite a while. The only reason I didn't arrange it was because I knew you'd say it was your fault. Even since I got a grip on myself living's just meant another day. I haven't cared much. I do now, Patricia. I do. This lady - Lila - she makes me think beyond right now. Beyond tomorrow. Like you did.

I'm not saying I love her. I don't know if I could. Maybe it's started and I'm too dumb to know it. Or too scared to admit it. I want to be near her. I'd never have come back here if it wasn't for her. Have to be honest with myself - and especially with you - about that. I'd have found some way to look after old Major. But can I ever be that honest with her? Would I have to tell her how much I loved you, how happy I was? How happy we used to be? Could I even try to explain the red dreams, how sick and frightened they make me? She thinks she knows about the PTSD. She's never lived with it. Do I talk to her about it? You know me. I'd never be able to do that. How would I live with her if I didn't at least try? Maybe if we'd talked more about that sort of thing, you and I

I'm not going there. That time's gone.

Listen to me, talking about myself like I'm the only one involved. I never even mentioned she might not love me. I'd sure understand that.

I don't know what to do. I'm afraid to go forward. I won't go back. Not to the world I tried to kill. That world's come back to me tonight. I want it. I didn't know how much I missed it. I don't want to be just a shadow anymore. But I'm afraid. I'll beat the red dreams. I'll beat this concussion. What I can't beat is the fear that Joe was right about me, about what I am. And that other thing I talked about.