Page 101 of Meet Me on Greenwood

Freida nodded, looking back at me, then Houston. "Thank you," she mouthed, before turning around to board the train. Susan waved her tiny hand at us, and her contented smile was the last thing I saw before she disappeared into the train.

I swallowed slowly, realizing how much Susan reminded me of Bri, and the love we used to share with one another. And now, I had to say goodbye to her.

I turned to Houston who was already watching me. I wanted to say so much, and yet, I didn’t have words for what I’d just done, or the hole in my chest where Susan had been. Houston didn’t say anything either. He simply leaned in, wiping a tear from my eye before saying, "We can’t stay here. Come with me."

He pulled me forward quickly, toward the lot where families who had seen their loved ones off were getting into their vehicles. Houston stopped at the side of a pick-up truck that looked vaguely familiar.

"Is that Edmund’s?" I asked, as he looked underneath the front driver’s tire and pulled out a key.

"It is always good to be prepared," he said.

He opened the door and helped me inside. It wasn’t until we were both inside the vehicle and headed down the road that he asked me if I was hurt. He kept his gaze forward.

"No," I said, because it was all I could manage.

Houston focused on the road, as we continued our silent drive back to his house. I eased into my seat and looked out of the window, as if the trees whipping by and the full moon above us could explain how I’d made it out of that situation alive. I wondered what Houston was thinking. Did he think I was a monster for shooting the man? Was he disappointed that I’d gotten caught? Or worse, perhaps he wasn’t thinking of me at all. I’d been rejected by men before, usually because I never prioritized them over myself, and though Houston had never asked that of me, I wondered if he would someday.

Once we arrived home, Houston turned off the car, and we sat in the driveway. The only sounds came from the toads by the pond and the cicadas flitting by. When he didn’t move to speak, I reached for the door handle.

"Let me get you inside," I said. "I’m sure Lettie has frozen peas for your eye."

"Hold on," he said, pulling me back. My eyes widened as he smoothed his hands down over my shoulders and torso, as if he still needed convincing that I wasn’t hurt.

"I’m fine, Houston," I assured.

"How can you be?" he asked, eyes searching mine in earnest. "You just—" he paused. "I’m not sure what that was exactly, but that man is assuredly dead, and you haven’t had a moment to process it."

I shook my head, holding tightly to the necklace, which was no longer burning against my skin. I wasn’t sure what had happened either, but my mind couldn’t go there, not yet. "I’ve always been a good shot with a pistol. Had I kept the long gun, I’d probably have missed."

When his eyes widened. "That wasn’t the pistol—it was the flare gun. I’ve never seen it do that."

I reached into my holster and pulled out the pistol he’d given me. It sat cold and unused in my hands. "How could a flare gun do so much damage?"

"A misfire, perhaps? His clothing must have had a fire accelerant," Houston said, taking the gun away from me. "The way you came back for me, I—" he leaned his forehead down to mine, "But you shouldn’t have done that."

"What do you mean? I couldn’t just leave you."

"Yes, you could, and you should have."

I closed my mouth because I knew he was right. If I was being rational that is exactly what I would have done, but fuck being rational. "I did what I could live with," I said finally. "Not turning back was not an option. You would have done the same for me."

His eyes met mine, as if seeing me fully. "You are right. I would have done the same. I just hate that you have that kill on your conscience now."

"I know I should feel bad, and maybe I will tomorrow, but tonight," I said, looking up at the stars. "Tonight, I just feel grateful we are all alive." Tears pooled in my eyes as the wave of emotion I’d been holding back, suddenly let go. "I’m glad I was able to help them. I just want to find a way to help and keep the bad away." I shut my mouth then, realizing I was on the brink of saying too much. How could I tell him that the fate of this town meant that hundreds, maybe thousands, would die?

"Oh, Gema," he said, reaching for my hands. "I was terrified when I realized you were in danger. Stanton was always bad news when I was a kid.”

“He knew you before?”

Houston nodded. “We ran into each other not long ago. I think when he saw what I was doing, passing, he thought he could too.” He paused meeting my gaze. “I don’t know what I would have done if he’d hurt you."

I set my mouth in a thin line. "Yes, you do. You would have taken the shot."

The corner of his lip curved upward, and he pulled me into his lap. I turned, hitting the horn and jumped as the loud beep interrupted the quiet. Houston grinned, pulling me against his chest. It was the most intimate moment we’d ever shared. The most vulnerable.

"I’m so glad I found you," he whispered.

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