Molly sensed his confusion. His lips were stiff and unresponsive, but she would not allow him to stop until she won. She would break Vanessa’s spell. Molly locked her arms around him, holding onto Jimmy and this moment with growing desperation.
Jimmy turned his head away and broke the kiss. “Molly!”
The urgency in his voice told Molly she was close. Jimmy pushed himself back and tripped, landing with a splat in the mud where she had fallen earlier. She pounced on top of him, pinning his arms to the ground. She pulled his hand, guiding it under her shirt and felt his warm touch on her skin.
“Molly, stop!” He shucked her off like a dirty blanket. “What are you doing?”
“Are you serious? I want to be with you.”
“We can’t do this.” He looked at her, and then dropped his gaze. “I mean I can’t do this.”
“Why can’t you, Jimmy? I really like you. I want you.”
Jimmy stood, and helped Molly to her feet again, releasing her immediately as though certain she was steady; only she didn’t feel steady.
“Molly, I…” A breeze followed his sigh.
Molly’s desire collapsed from the night air on her muddy skin, leaving her chilled and trembling. “What, Jimmy?”
His hazel eyes were touched with concern, but not love. Not for her.
He raised his shoulders in a simple shrug. “I like someone else.”
Hunter cracked open his eyes in the early morning light as a songbird twittered from somewhere above. His muddled brain cleared and he sat up, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes. His arm wouldn’t bend. He remembered breaking his arm, the pain, Scout tugging the bones into place and extreme pain ending with the dark blanket of oblivion. Hunter thought it weird that he didn’t feel any pain now.
Next to him, Catherine slept under a sleeping bag. If there were ever a standard image of peacefulness, the little girl displayed it perfectly with her hands tucked beneath her head, the sounds of her breathing puffing through her tiny mouth. Scout was the opposite of peacefulness. He knelt by the fire, holding a burning stick into the flames, his bleary-eyed stare focused on nothing apparent. His normal tight Afro looked like a lumpy sponge.
Finally, Scout blinked. “How’s the arm?”
“It feels fine. You do good work.”
Scout grunted. “I tightened up your handle bars. Your bike started okay. You should be good to go. Throttle’s a little tight.”
“The throttle’s been jacked up for a while. It’s constantly sticking on me. But that doesn’t matter since I can’t ride, remember?” Hunter held up his splintered right arm as evidence.
Scout responded with a tired frown. He tossed his poking stick in the fire and stood. “I got some water if you’re thirsty. There’s also some food.”
“Thanks.” Hunter scurried to his feet and ran for privacy. He managed to pee using his left hand. He returned to camp, replenished his water intake, and eyed Scout who had found a new stick to fidget with the fire.
Hunter wiped his mouth with the back of his good arm. “So what’s up?”
Scout’s gaze traveled towards the sleeping Catherine. “She did something to you last night, didn’t she? I mean when you were hurting. She made the pain go away.”
“Not totally, but she helped a lot. I thought my arm was going to fall off. Then she placed her hand on my head and I was able to deal with it. But that’s impossible, so I don’t know what to think.”
“When I set your arm she passed out with you. At first I thought it was because of your screaming.”
Hunter stiffened. “It hurt like hell when you pulled.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that. There’s more.” Scout stepped away from the fire and Hunter reluctantly followed him the short distance.
Scout lowered his voice and relayed everything that happened while Hunter slept.
Hunter barked out a laugh. “You did have some liquor, stingy.”
“I’m serious. You were both covered in a yellow light and then she took it all inside her and the light shot from her eyes into the sky. She passed out again and hasn’t moved since.”
Hunter considered the girl, lying in the prairie grass. Scout never lied to him. Never.
He swung his splintered arm up for a closer inspection. Scout wrapped it with Hunter’s favorite shirt. Something about the shirt didn’t appear right, but Hunter was more concerned with the arm itself.
“So what do you think?” Hunter asked.
“How does your arm feel?”
Gently, Hunter touched the broken arm. He rubbed it and then poked it. The arm didn’t hurt,