“How we gonna know that?”
Roen released his arm and found his handkerchief. “You can give up that telescope now.” The boy had a death grip on it. “And thank you for taking such good care of it.” When Clay handed it over, Roen draped it with the white hanky. He crab-walked to the opening of their cramped shelter and raised his makeshift white flag above the overhang and waved it.
“You’re surrendering?” Appalled, Clay’s dark eyebrows laddered his forehead. “Even Custer didn’t surrender.”
“Custer died. I’m taking you back to your mother in the same shape she sent you to me.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” He continued to wave the flag in a broad arc. “This is nothing.”
“How do you know? You been shot before?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” Roen recalled the event more clearly than he liked. It was a consequence of ending his arrangement with Victorine as she’d had definite expectations regarding their relationship that did not agree with his. “And no, I’m not telling you about it, so don’t ask.”
“I’d tell you if I’d been shot before.”
“You haven’t been shot now. There is nobeforeabout it.” Roen lowered the telescope. “I’m going to step out. You stay put.”
“But—” He stopped because Roen was already ducking out from under the rock ledge. Clay cringed in anticipation of another shot as Roen began to rise, but when it didn’t come, he crawled to the entrance and tried to look up. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing’s happening. There’s no one here and no one coming. You can come out. We’re leaving.”
For once, Clay was at a loss for words.
Chapter Ten
Lily heard the familiar screech of the back door swinging open. Despite his good intentions, Clay still hadn’t gotten around to fixing it. “About time you’re home,” she said, turning away from the sink, where she was scrubbing out a pot. She used her apron to dry her wet hands and brushed rusty tendrils of hair made damp by the hot water. In spite of the fact that Clay was late arriving home, Lily had a ready smile for her son when he stepped into the kitchen. That smile faltered but didn’t fade when she saw Roen Shepard step into view behind him. Good manners kept it in place. That, and a stronger constitution than she generally credited herself with.
“Mr. Shepard,” she said. Her voice was steady, and the annoyance she felt was absent from her tone. Lily rested her gaze on Clay, who she observed was not quite looking her in the eye. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Clay dug his hands into his pockets while he shifted from one foot to the other.
Lily recognized the signs pointing toward obfuscation. “Take off your coat and sit at the table. I saved dinner for you. It won’t take but a few minutes to heat up the stew. You can use that time to think about whether you want to tell me a story or tell me the truth.”
Clay sighed. He looked back at Roen as he began to slip out of his coat, but his mother cleared her throat in a way that warned him he was on his own.
“Come inside, Mr. Shepard. There is plenty of stew.”
“I don’t want to impose. I’m here to make certain that Claytells you about our adventure, but after seeing how well you have him in hand, I think my presence is unnecessary.”
Lily was rather more intrigued than she wanted to be. “I’m not letting you leave now. Coat on the rack and take a seat.”
“I’d like to keep my coat on if it’s all the same to you.”
“I reckon that’s your prerogative.” She turned to rekindle the wood in the stove while Clay and Roen went to the table. It was tempting to look over her shoulder to see if she could catch them communicating in some fashion, but she resisted because she realized she wanted to believe that Roen Shepard had her son’s best interests on his mind.
Lily removed the stew pot from the warming drawer and set it on the stove. She gave it a stir before she finally turned around. Clay was sitting opposite Roen. He was staring at the tabletop, his head bent like a penitent. Roen was staring at him. “Are you prepared to begin?” she asked. “The stew will be ready to eat in about five minutes. That should be enough time to tell me the truth.” The implication was that a story would take much longer.
Clay lifted his head and looked at this mother. “I’m real sorry that I’m late. Mr. Shepard wanted me to go home straightaway once we got into town, but I figured he was paying for a full day’s work and I thought I should give it to him.”
“Admirable,” she said dryly.
“Uh-huh. I thought it was proper. Mr. Shepard wasn’t so sure, but I wore him down. Well, not so much wore him down as I wouldn’t leave his side.”
“I see.” But of course, she didn’t.
“I told him we should see Doc Madison first thing. He had other ideas. Wanted to unpack his work gear and make sure it was all undamaged. We left our last site in a hurry and didn’t have time to look things over.”
