Chapter27
Blaze
Blaze strode beneath the shade of the pines to the switchback road, which he followed all the way up to the top of the hill. His lungs were bursting by the time he stopped to turn and look out over the valley, the lake a blue cobalt beneath the blazing sun, slanting lower in the western sky, the dust from the low foothills beyond sifting over the pine trees.
It was such an odd spot, windblown, almost bare except for the new-looking cabin near the topmost part of the hill, that Gabe had told him used to belong to some old guy named John Henton. All around the cabin, there was nothing. Nothing for miles.
If he had his cowboy hat, he wouldn’t have to shade his eyes to look out over the valley, though even with it, the search for Gabe would have been futile; the trees were too thick to see much but the very edge of the mess tent, the tops of the row of tents just beyond that.
Beyond that, he could locate nothing, and certainly could find no sign of Gabe. Who, because he was such a responsible guy, was hard at work, or making mental notes about that guy he’d met with, Reece or whoever. Taking stock of the first aid supplies in case someone, one of the new parolees, was dumb enough to get himself hurt again.
Now that Blaze’s body was cooling down, as well as it could in full sunshine, he could see how stupid he’d been to react that way to his mom telling him to come home. Alex had always come first and Blaze always came last, though this had not been obvious to Blaze until he’d had time to figure it out in prison.
Even if Blaze didn’t go home, they’d probably find a way to get Alex out of handcuffs and safely back inside the Butterworth trailer. A place where Blaze had never truly belonged, though why had it taken him this long to figure out?
On the other hand, did he belong here in the valley? Did he belong with Gabe?
He’d certainly shoved Gabe away hard enough to leave emotional bruises. That was, if Gabe cared about him at all, to be even the least bit affected by Blaze’s rejection.
The sun, which was giving him a headache, and made heading toward the growing shade in the lee of John Henton’s remade cabin a good choice. When he got there, he hunkered in the shadow of the south-east corner. Now, from this angle of the hill, he could see the slant of land as the foothills rose to the west, see the hard, gray line of Guipago Ridge, and watch the sun slant lower, sending shards of light through the tall prairie grasses, sparkling gold along the edges.
If Gabe had been there, he’d know what kind of grasses there were, and why only the tops of them shook in the slight, growing breeze. If Gabe had been there, the growing shadows would have felt less lonely, and the anticipation of the walk down the switchback would have seemed less like a chore and more like a mini-adventure, complete with birdcall and the heady scent of pine, spicy as it cooled.
Bending to rest his forehead on his folded arms across his knees, his brain flashed images at him of the last time he’d sat this way. Pressed against a pine tree in the dark because he’d been lost in the dark and couldn’t find his way back to his own tent.
That time, Gabe had rescued him, though it didn’t look like there’d be a repeat rescue this time around. Blaze was on his own and he’d done it to himself on purpose, leaving himself no other option but to figure out how to do his parole another way. Because Gabe wouldn’t want him around anymore, right?
Head down on his knees, he’d dozed for a while and awoke to a change in the weather. A good cool breeze was coming off the mountains, clouds on the horizon, low and sweeping. He shivered as he stood up and realized that if he planned to leave, he needed to be sensible about it.
He had no cash in his pocket, since he’d not been paid. At some point, there was supposed to be a bank account the program had set up for him, with a bit of money coming in each week. That hadn’t happened yet, but it would be too painful to wait around.
He needed to pack, and get organized, and then leave. Which meant going back down into the valley, getting some dinner, having an early night. Look at it all again in the morning.
Walking beneath the pines as he made his way down the switchback chilled him all over, but he was warm again once out in the sunlight. He could smell that dinner was already underway as he made his way across the parking lot to the mess tent, but when he got there, only Wayne was sitting at the long table, while Del placed a platter full of lasagna on a hot pad in the middle of the table.
“Where you been?” asked Wayne, serving himself the biggest corner piece. What did that matter? There were three other corners, and Blaze wasn’t all that hungry.
“Walking around,” said Blaze. He grabbed a slice of garlic bread from the basket and sucked on the edge of it for a minute, and knew full well and good that he couldn’t trust Wayne enough to tell him any of what was going on. That, in fact, without Gabe, Blaze had nobody to talk to.
“There are new guys coming this week, Gabe said,” said Wayne, talking with his mouth full. “Tuesday or Wednesday, he said.”
Blaze quelled his jealousy that Wayne had had any of Gabe’s attention at all, and reminded himself that he was lighting out in the morning. Bags packed.
He still had his gate money, so he could at least buy a bus ticket to somewhere. He’d leave his cowboy hat and boots behind, buy a burner phone, first chance he got, and just go wherever. Who cared anyhow? Not him, that was for sure.
“Maybe you’ll get a new roommate and won’t have to sleep with Gabe anymore.” Wayne looked smug as he grabbed more garlic bread than one man could eat and Blaze couldn’t figure out whether he was being mocked for needing a roommate to keep away the scary darkness, which Wayne didn’t know about, or whether Wayne was harassing him because he’d been sleeping with the boss. Either way, it was best not to reply to a guy like Wayne. Ever.
Blaze got up and went out of the mess tent, knowing he’d regret not eating when he got hungry later, only now his stomach was in knots and he felt more lost than he had in a long time. With long strides, he crossed the distance to the clump of trees where his tent was. Now empty, of course, except for two cots, one made up, the other one bare. The white shelves, one with his stuff crammed into it.
But there, sitting on the left-hand cot, his cot, was an envelope with his name on it.
For a long moment, not enough for his thumping heart to slow down, he stared at before he went to it, picked it up, and sat down.
He didn’t think he’d ever received a letter in his life. Certainly not a hand-delivered one. He was almost caressing it as he touched it, tracing the letters that spelled his name in careful, simple cursive.Blaze.
Opening the envelope, he found a single sheet of notebook paper, rough at one edge, crisp along the other. It read:
Dear Blaze,
