Hopefully, there’s enough meat to get us through. I’ve only been able to can a dozen jars of green beans and another six potatoes. It will be enough for them.
I bit down on my lip. Who will cook for them? Clean their clothes?
“What’s wrong?” the stranger asks.
“Who will take care of them?” I ask, looking back at the house.
“They’ll take care of themselves,” he says in the same hard tone Papa uses when he’s annoyed.
I take a small step away from him. I don’t know him. Does that tone mean he’s angry with me?
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, opening his hands in front of him.
“It’s okay.” I zip the coat. “We need to go,” I say, my heart sinking into my stomach. I didn’t get to say goodbye to Elijah. I tiptoed around the subject earlier, but he got that panicked look in his eyes and I chickened out. He’s so sweet. It’s going to hurt when he realizes I’ve left. But eventually, he’ll understand it was what’s best for me. He’ll be okay.
I tell myself this over and over again. Elijah loves me. Not like Mark or Papa, he really wants me to be happy. He’ll understand once I’m gone.
“Okay, let’s go. My path is about five hundred yards that way.” The stranger points behind him.
I nod. It doesn’t matter how far five hundred yards is, we just need to go.
He offers his hand, and I stare at it.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay. Let’s go,” he says, shaking his hand for me.
I grab hold of it, letting the warmth of his skin wash away my fear. We’re leaving. I’m leaving.
We start to walk toward the tree line. I silently say goodbye to Mama and Grandma. They’ll be happy for me. I’m going to do what they couldn’t.
The stranger screams, drops my hand, and falls forward. I stare at him as he tumbles to the ground, grabbing his shoulder and howling. Blood seeps through his fingers.
My breath holds my heart ransom. My feet freeze. I’m a statue.
“Nicolette!” Papa’s voice shatters me. Papa and the boys are racing to me. I swallow back my sob.
No! I’m so close.
“Fuck!” The stranger rolls on the ground, leaves sticking to his hair.
“What the fuck is this?” Papa’s rage shakes me. I blink, thinking. There has to be a good reason for this. A good reason.
“I don’t know,” I blurt out with nothing else to say. What can I say that will make him believe me?
“You don’t know?” Papa grabs the jacket, hauling me off my feet in front of him. He thrusts his rifle at Mark, who points it at the stranger. “What the fuck are you wearing?” He shakes me.
“I…it…he…I don’t know!” I scream. My brain has gone idle. Where are the answers that will save me?
“Put her down!” the stranger yells. He reaches behind his back and pulls out a small pistol, aiming it at Papa.
Papa tosses me to the ground and positions his rifle, pointing it at the stranger.
“Hold her!” Papa snaps, and Mark grabs my hair, hauling me to my feet.
“Put that down, mister, or you’ll be hurting her,” Mark says, his tone dark in way I’ve never heard from him. A blade presses against my throat.
“Mark. Shit,” Elijah says from beside us. I can’t look at him. If I turn, I’ll cut myself.
The stranger looks between me and Papa. Cursing, he throws his pistol to the ground.
“Get that,” Mark says, and Elijah walks in front of me, picking up the gun and keeping his gaze away from me.
“Papa. Please, I’m sorry. I was…I didn’t mean it,” I say, focusing my sights on him.
“Didn’t mean it?” Papa sneers.
“Nicolette. You weren’t…I mean…what were you doing with him? Why are you wearing that jacket?” Elijah stands in front of me, the pistol loose in his grip.
“I…” Words fail me. His eyes, usually soft and loving toward me, slowly go dark. “I…please, Elijah.” I reach out to touch him. If I can just touch him, he’ll understand. Mark pulls the knife tighter against my throat. Elijah’s top lip curls.
“You were leaving!” Elijah proclaims.
“No!” I yell, but the effort only gets me yanked back by Mark.
“Who the fuck are you?” Papa stands over the stranger. “Don’t fucking move,” he yells, pulling his shirt to flip him to his belly. Papa grabs his wallet from his back pocket, as well as his cell phone.
“Keep him on lockdown,” Papa tells Elijah. While he riffles through the man’s wallet, Elijah keeps the man’s pistol