was here somewhere. Dumb name for a creek. The water was clear as glass. She’d let him get a drink and clean the froth off his nose. The water up high was cold year-round. It’d cool him down fast, and if she dipped her wrists, it’d take some of the pain out. But no creek, no matter how cold, could take the pain out of her heart.
“They know, Mule. They know my pap hates me.” She could say it out loud to Mule. He wouldn’t tell nobody. Wouldn’t laugh. Or, worse, look at her all pitying like. She couldn’t stand them looks she got after Maw died, everybody petting her hair and rubbing her shoulder and saying things like, “Poor Bettina. What’s she gonna do now that she ain’t got no maw?” Wasn’t nothing worse than being pitied. She missed Maw. Missed her more’n she ever knew a body could miss someone. But all the pitying in the world wouldn’t bring her back. If something didn’t do no good, why do it?
Mule bobbed his head up and down and snorted. She took a few more steps, and the trickle of water running over stones met her ears. Mule must’ve smelled it. She pushed through a little more brush, and there was Little Muddy Creek. Mule plunged his nose in, and she crouched next to the water and watched it flow.
Her muscles unpinched, and she let out a long, slow breath. Listening to the water’s music, smelling the clean air and pine and honeysuckle, being there with Mule in the fading light soothed her. Maybe she’d stay up here tonight. Maybe she’d stay up here forever. Not like anybody really cared about her anyway. Pap said she was nothin’ more’n a burr under his saddle. Only reason he kept her around was for chores and the money she brought in. She’d been planning on moving out soon as she married Emmett, so—
She lurched upright. Emmett…He was nice as nice could be in the library, but only ’cause he felt sorry for her. He hadn’t never looked at her that way before. She wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes ever again after seeing his pity. Even if they did get married now, she’d always wonder if he married her out of feeling sorry for her.
Mule shook his head, spraying water over her, then stuck his wet nose against her neck. She stood and curled her arms around his spotted neck. “We ain’t goin’ back, Mule. For sure not tonight. We’ll decide tomorrow if it’ll be forever.”
Emmett
EMMETT DRUMMED HIS fingers on Burke Webber’s dinner table and bounced his knee. The hard dirt under his foot made an annoying grating sound. But he couldn’t sit still. Neither could Maw. She was flicking the corners of the pages she’d found in Bettina’s room, reading the words. Both of them were as twitchy as a starved man hunting grouse. But they’d sit here until Bettina got home. Even if Burke arrived first.
Emmett watched Maw’s face while she read. Despite the nervous flick-flick-flick, she was caught up. The same way he’d been when he read the same pages. He’d been uneasy about Maw snooping in Bettina’s personal space, but she insisted she had to, saying, “If she packed up an’ then skedaddled, we need to not sit an’ wait. We need to go searchin’ for her.” She was right, so he stopped arguing. Then he was glad she went in, because she found Addie’s story and what looked like a letter Addie had written to a friend. Maw tucked the letter in her pocket—“That’s private an’ we shouldn’t look at it”—but she was enjoying the story.
He couldn’t wait to tell Addie the lost had been found. And the fact that Bettina had taken it made him wonder if she had been the one to wreak havoc in the library. He’d rather it was her than the other person he suspected. Either way, he wouldn’t press charges like he’d vowed to do in the heat of anger. But it’d be easier on his heart if Bettina had done it in a jealous fit than if it’d been done by another to personally hurt him.
Maw’s thumb stilled. She looked up. “What time is it?”
He checked his timepiece. “Half past six.”
“The miners’ wagon should be pullin’ up to Belcher’s about now.” She set the story aside. “Reckon we’ll be confrontin’ Burke before we see Bettina. Maybe that’s best.” She shook her head, and tears made