“It’s all right,” said Galen. “Thank you for the apology.”
Together, they looked back at the campfire where Bede and Kell were sharing space on the hay bale. Kell was talking, his face animated, hands moving.
Galen could barely hear what he was saying, the silence in the forest all around was so deep. In response, Bede had hisshoulders lowered, head dipped down, eyes focused on Kell.He’s like a brother to me.
Then Kell jumped up, gesturing with his hands. About what, Galen didn’t know, but Kell just about tumbled into the fire. Bede’s arm reached out, steadying Kell with a gentle hand. Protective.
Marston believed what Kell had told him about Bede. Kell, who was a sweet, smart kid, was laughing with Bede like they were best friends. Bede’s low laugh eased over to Galen, and for a moment, everything seemed normal, like Bede was a regular guy, and Galen wasn’t surrounded by parolees.
There might be something good in Bede, then. Unseen. Below the surface. Or was this another example of a criminal being made docile in certain conditions?
But that couldn’t be it. Bede, as well as the others, could leave anytime they wanted. They chose to stay. Chose to participate in the ancient ritual of gathering around a blazing fire. Chose to participate in roasting marshmallows and making s’mores and eating with the joy of little kids.
All of this was part of what Gabe and the others had told him on Sunday. About having a little empathy and giving it a chance.
Still, they hadn’t mentioned that Galen would see Bede in the firelight, skin glowing, sparks of joy in his eyes as he talked with Kell. Well, listened mostly. Sparks that he might have wanted to hide had he known how obvious they were.
Galen pulled his attention away.
It would be better to focus on the job at hand, on the work that needed to get done that summer, and to pull himself away from the connection between him and Bede that would be so easy to form.
In another life, they could have been friends. In a different summer, when he wasn’t responsible for his team, and Bede’spresence didn’t make him want to respond in inappropriate ways.
Which meant that he needed to do his best to act naturally.
“I think I’ll have another s’more,” said Galen, mentally hitching up his overalls. Not that he needed more sugar, certainly. But it was warm by the fire, and it was nice to be sitting still, watching deep gold, dark blue flames leaping about. Amidst a circle of men, connected by something so simple, so ancient, as a fire.
Kell returned to Marston’s side on a hay bale a little way back from the fire pit. As for Bede, he was staring into the flames like he was looking for a secret wish he’d long ago lost track of.
Galen distracted himself by creating a list of what needed doing. What Gabe had asked the team to take care of.
The issue of knapweed was at the top of the list. The weed was creeping into the compound from the east, and a little bit from the west, where the wind had carried the seeds.
BLM and the forestry service used chemicals to get rid of the weed, but Leland didn’t want that in the valley. Everything had to be non-toxic?—
Galen looked up, his gaze caught by movement.
Bede had left the light of the fire and was walking into the woods, alone along the path that led to the tents, hands at his sides, sleeves still rolled up.
“Is he going without a flashlight?” asked Galen aloud. “And he forgot his jacket.”
“I’ll make sure he’s okay,” said Kell, jumping up to grab the forgotten jacket. Behind him, Marston gave Galen a nod, and lifted his hand to show that he was prepared to follow Kell.
“Thanks,” said Galen. “Make sure he brings his flashlight next time.”
As the silence settled, Galen turned it over in his mind. That he’d been worried, sure, that made sense. Bede was one of his team, after all, and it was his duty to look after each one of them.
Across the fire pit, Toby and Owen were chucking back s’mores like two men who had no concerns about tomorrow. They both had flashlights tucked next to them on their shared hay bale.
Maybe once Kell told Bede he’d need a flashlight, he’d be back to join the campfire. But he never came back, even though everyone sat around the fire for another hour until it got truly dark.
Chapter 8
Bede
Sitting around a campfire on a warm summer’s evening was just about the last thing that Bede expected to be doing. At least not on the very day he’d been released from prison.
During those five years behind cement walls and razor-wire topped fencing, he’d kept himself distracted by imagining this very day, the day he’d be paroled. It would be a Monday. Midsummer. He’d be putting on a new suit. Taking one last look in the polished metal prison mirror in his cell.
