“Going somewhere?” he asked.
So few words to sum up the situation, but I managed, and his eyes snapped with cold fury. “You came to tell me good-bye?”
“This is how it has to be.”
Rage fueled his movements as he jerked off his leather apron. “No, it’s not. Say ‘Come with me, Stalker.’”
I stared, shocked. “Are you sure your leg is strong enough?”
The last time I saw him, he had been using a stick. I saw no evidence of it now, and he’d been putting in long hours at the forge. His arms were corded with muscles, but that didn’t address the condition of his knee.
Apparently outraged by the question, he kissed me, hard, before I realized what he meant to do. His lips felt angry and famished at once. “Say it, Deuce.”
“Come with me, Stalker.”
Then he smiled and I took a step toward him, unwillingly drawn by his ferocious beauty. “I’ll tell Smith and get my things.”
“Meet me at the Bigwater house when you can.”
My spirit felt lighter as I made my way to Doc Tuttle’s place. I wanted a hug from Tegan and her good wishes. She was eating dinner with the doctor and his wife when I arrived; she jumped up and offered me a plate, which I declined.
“Could we talk in private for a moment?”
Her parents graciously excused the interruption, even more charitably ignored the fact that I was dressed for war, and we stepped outside.
“I’m leaving,” I said, and then explained the circumstances.
“I hate that Caroline Bigwater,” she snapped, her small fists clenched. “Hate her. You know she says the same thing about me helping Doc in the office?”
It didn’t surprise me. “I hope she won’t make trouble for you, once I’m gone.”
Tegan grinned. “She won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?” I tilted my head, puzzled.
“Because I won’t be here. You’ll need a doctor on the road, and even Doc admits I’m almost as good as he is.”
I didn’t make the mistake of asking about her leg; she didn’t limp as much as she had once. Plus, if she had been tough enough to handle the backbreaking work of the growing season and then the harvest, she could withstand this journey too. Tegan might be the strongest of us all.
She ran back into the house, addressing her next words to the Tuttles. “Help me pack my medical bag.”
“Is someone sick?” Doc asked.
I let her do the talking, and then, he left the table to divide up his supplies, allotting her needle and thread, bandages, ointments, and sundry items I wouldn’t know how to use. Clearly Tegan did.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked, wondering if she understood the danger.
“Absolutely. You saved me, more than once. It’s my turn to repay the favor.”
“But you love it here.” I was surprised Tegan would venture out with me when she’d been searching for safety as long as I’d known her.
“It’s my home,” she said simply. “So, I’ll do my part to protect it. And I owe you, too, so…” She shrugged. “I need to do this.”
Humbled by her loyalty, I told her to meet me at the Bigwater house as soon as she was ready, and then I went on, feeling even better. I might not be a normal girl by Salvation standards, but I had good friends. No question. And there must be something worthwhile about me if they were willing to accompany me now.
That left only one person. Fade. Maybe given his own pain, he wouldn’t care that I was going, but I owed him the courtesy of seeing him before I left.
As I’d expected, Longshot’s house was dark. No candles. No lamp. But Fade must be there since he wouldn’t remain in the shop after Edmund left. It took all my courage to climb to the porch and rap my knuckles against the door.
For long moments I waited, until at last I heard a rustle of movement from within. Fade answered the door, his face in shadow.
“Did you forget something?”
“Just this.” When I kissed his cheek, his instinctive flinch shocked me. That was a revelation; my touch no longer brought him pleasure; maybe he associated all contact with physical pain, and I grieved for everything we’d lost. I thought he just needed some time … I hadn’t realized his damage ran so deep.
Stalker whispered in my head, He’s soft in ways you and I aren’t. Ultimately, you’re going to break him.
Maybe, I thought. But I can save him too.
It just wouldn’t be today. My boy had suffered enough. I couldn’t ask him to fight more on my behalf. He needed what little peace Salvation could provide in these difficult times.
“Good-bye, Fade.”
I lacked the heart to tell the story again. Edmund would mention it, if Fade kept helping out in the shop. Lightly, I ran down the steps, away from him, toward the future, toward uncertainty and danger.
“I deserve that,” he said softly.
His pained words stopped me, but I didn’t turn. “What?”
“That you don’t trust me enough to ask for my help.” The words burned with raw anguish, as if he’d let me down somehow. “Or maybe you think I’m not strong enough to be of any use.”
So he already knew. I didn’t ask how. Secrets had a way of spreading, whispers carried on the wind.
“I don’t think that,” I answered honestly.
But you do.
“We’re still partners, aren’t we?” His voice carried a desperate hope.
The question hurt—that he even needed to ask. This was the second time he’d shut me out after taking a wound, as if I held nothing inside me to offer him, no ability to console or comfort, and it broke my heart into a thousand pieces. But it wasn’t time to be angry; I couldn’t focus on how his behavior made me feel. I had to recall that self-doubt sliced at him like hidden knives. So I put on a neutral expression as I faced him. Pity would destroy him.
“I never left,” I said. “I didn’t request your help because I was trying to do what was right for you. Obviously, having you there is always best for me.”
“I don’t want to stay here. I don’t even want to be in my own skin. Can I come with you?” The ache in his question made me feel gentle.
“Fade, you said you can’t be what I need, but you’re everything I want. Even if you give up on yourself, I never will. I’ll fight for you.”