Her magic had a way of sensing where it might reach out and encourage things to grow. Now that Eva was paying attention, she could feel the energy of the aspen roots vibrating underground, not unlike a busy crowd of people, or a hive of bees working together for survival.
“Here.”
Eva eyed the plate he gave her, her stomach growling. “You don’t eat eggs.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m trying to.”
Arthur wasn’t strictly vegan, but his aversion to animal flesh made him very selective. She, on the other hand, was absolutely weak for all forms of breakfast food.
“You sure?”
“Of course.” He said it like a joke, but Eva noted he’d given her the lion’s share, and while she wolfed her eggs down, he stirred his with a grimace.
She didn’t press him. The summer Arthur had stayed with them, Dad had told her anxiety could be hard on a person’s stomach. So could grief. Arthur lost his appetite in all sorts of ways.
Her eyes dropped to the fingers he tapped on the outside seam of his jeans. That was the same too. It had always been her biggest clue to his emotional state. When Arthur was upset, he tapped that same rhythm over and over.
Her eyes followed the dip in his throat as he chugged a drink of water from a bottle he must have kept in the van, then wiped themoisture off his lips. Between her shoes, the kitten pounced on a bright green beetle.
Silence spread like a balm while they ate, sweet petrichor rising off the rocks and soil. When a honeybee landed on Eva’s knuckle, she twiddled her fingers to make it take flight again.
The kitten rubbed against Arthur’s leg. His expression puckered, tart with unease as he held perfectly still.
“She likes you,” Eva noted.
“She doesn’t know I’m poison.”
He had spoken so quietly Eva wasn’t sure he’d meant her to hear, so she pretended she hadn’t. “Wanna name her?”
“Not a chance, bee girl.”
After breakfast, Arthur offered Eva a spare toothbrush and his toothpaste.I can do this,she thought as she scrubbed her teeth and spat in the dirt.I’ve gone camping before.
“Ev?”
Every time he said her name, it got a little easier to hear. That didn’t mean she liked it. “Yeah?”
Arthur stood at the open door of the Volkswagen, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I don’t think you should do this alone.”
Great. One more person who didn’t believe she was capable.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” Eva said, ignoring the voice niggling at the back of her mind. For all the time she’d spent in the woods growing up, she’d never camped alone.
Arthur’s eyes burned with an intensity she’d never seen as he stepped forward. “I want to go with you.”
The words hit like a bullet to her ribs. Stunned, Eva’s lips parted. “What?”
“I want to help.”
Eva shook her head. “You have to leave.” The words were gravelin her throat, words she never thought she’d say. But they’d lost too much time as it was with the storm. There were only so many roads through these mountains. “If you don’t go now, the sheriff—”
“I know.”
The words were resigned, and Eva realized with a start that Arthur wasn’t running to freedom at all. And how could he be? How long did she really expect to keep him out of the hands of the law with the charges laid against him? Against them both? Sooner or later, Dane Walker’s deputies would catch up, and then what?
She swallowed hard. Arthur had apparently already grasped what she’d refused to accept: This moment, this reprieve, was nothing more than a delay.
“What happened to Jack is my fault,” Arthur said as he stepped toward her and lifted a second hiking pack she hadn’t clocked before. He’d clearly gathered his supplies together while she slept. “If you really think something up there can help your dad, then… please. I owe it to him.”
