Wolfe shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
Most lawmen were only deputized in their early twenties, or sometimes even when they were much older. Blade had never heard of a deputy his age.
“Wow...” Blade was speechless. “I’m not sure what to say.”
Wolfe laughed. “Say you’ll accept my offer.”
Blade turned the badge over in his hand again. He hadn’t really given his future much thought, but he enjoyed working with Wolfe and ridding the world of evil men. “I’d be honored,” he finally said. “But just know that this changes nothing. I’m still leaving when I turn eighteen, and I have no idea how long I’ll be gone.”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Wolfe stated. “I’ve known for a while that I wanted to deputize you, and as for your plan to go after Austin, I’ve known about that since you were ten.”
“Well, I guess then it is settled.”
“Indeed, Deputy Blade Cassidy.”
Blade couldn’t help but smile at that. He liked the sound of it. Maybe after he got his revenge, he could return and become sheriff one day. It was a nice thought, but not a priority. He’d spent the last seven years readying himself for the day he would face his uncle and avenge his family. That was his objective, and he would not rest until he had completed it.
With his badge in his pocket, Blade made his way home. It had been an eventful day, and he was looking forward to a hearty meal and a good night’s rest.
The first thing Blade did when he got home was secure Africa in the corral so that he could graze. Blade would move him to the stables later and comb him down. Some might see it as work, but Blade loved spending time with Africa. The quarter horse held a special place in his heart. Not only was Africa fast and intelligent, but he was stunningly beautiful too. Blade had never seen another horse with the same color combinations. Africa’s coat was as white as snow, while his mane, tail, and lower legs were a dark reddish-brown. The only other spot that color was the distinctive mark on his side, which was shaped like Africa.
“I’ll be back later,” Blade told his horse as he left the corral. “And I’ll bring treats.”
Africa neighed, almost as if he could understand, and Blade laughed as he made his way home. He was in good spirits until he saw Millie sitting on the kitchen floor, her hand stained with blood, and Margaret pulled halfway onto her lap. The image conjured up memories that he would much rather forget—memories of a day that was forever imprinted on his mind.
“Millie,” he whispered as he ran to his sister and fell down beside her. “What happened?”
She didn’t answer. He didn’t expect her to. Millie hadn’t spoken a word since that day.
Margaret’s eyes were open and staring blankly ahead. It was clear that she was dead and that Millie was the one who had found her. Millie was slowly swinging back and forth as tears streamed down her face. She was having one of her episodes. It hadn’t happened in a long time, but Margaret’s death must have triggered it.
“All right,” he said as he slowly started moving Margaret off Millie’s lap. He had asked her before if she could hear him while she was having an attack, and she had confirmed that she could. “Margaret had a bad heart. We all knew it was just a matter of time before this happened.”
The words sounded cold, but they were true. Blade loved Margaret. She had taken them in and cared for them like they were her own. Inside, his heart was breaking, but he had to be strong for his sister. She couldn’t control her emotions, so he had to control his.
“Margaret had food on the stove when this happened,” he stated as he stood up. “I can smell that it burned.” Although he knew that Millie could hear him, he had no proof that talking to her would help. He liked to believe that it would, so he continued. “I’m just going to put some water in the pot.”
Blade removed the pot from the stove, added some water, and then focused his attention back on Millie. “Come on,” he said as he bent down and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Millie moved slowly as he led her to the washroom that was attached to the kitchen. Her legs were wobbly, and she was clearly still in a state of panic, but at least she was walking. Once inside, Blade washed the blood from her hands. There was nothing he could do about her stained dress, so instead, he took Millie to her bedroom.
“I have to take care of Margaret,” he told his sister as he helped her onto her bed. “I need you to stay here until I come to get you.”
For the first time since he arrived home, Millie’s eyes met his.
“Can you show me that you’re okay?” he asked, hoping to get a response.
Millie didn’t talk, and although it was difficult at first, he had come to accept it. Over the years, they had learned to communicate with hand gestures and facial expressions. They couldn’t exactly have conversations, but it worked for them.
Millie just looked at him.
“All right, I understand,” Blade stated, knowing that he was asking too much of her. “I know you can hear me, so just stay here. I have to go get Sheriff Wolfe, but I won’t be long.”
With that, Blade made his way out of Millie’s room. He closed the door behind him, not wanting her to see Margaret again, and then got to work. The first thing he did was move Margaret’s body. He knew it was pointless, but it felt necessary, so he quickly lifted the old woman into his arms and placed her on her bed, in her room. It was the least he could do. Having her lie on the cold, hard floor while he went to get help didn’t seem right. Blade covered her body with a blanket and then promptly left the house.
Chapter 4
“It’s been too long,” Maxwell said, turning toward Austin. “We really should do this more often.”
