The Reckless Oath We Made - Bryn Greenwood Page 0,143
handfasted.”
“I think that counts.” I didn’t actually have an opinion about marriage, but my opinion about Edrard’s parents was they’d acted like assholes to Rosalinda.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “The only prayers I know are a bunch of Old Testament stuff Edrard wouldn’t appreciate.”
“You could sing something.”
I was sorry I’d suggested it, because she picked this song that was so fucking sad, she only got partway through it before she cried. After she gave up singing, I helped her untie the knot in the plastic bag. She tested for the wind direction, tipped the bag over, and the breeze scattered the ashes down the side of the hill. Then Leon hiked his leg to the limestone outcropping behind us. Amen.
“I’m going up to the castle, if you want some time to yourself,” I said.
She nodded.
On the way up, I heard something flapping in the wind. The edge of one of the tarps had come loose, so it popped back and forth at the top of the east tower like a blue flag. Someone had cleared out Gentry’s stuff. The only things left were some scaffolding, tumbleweeds, and the bones of a little critter. Leon sniffed it over and hiked his leg to the doorway.
“Quit pissing on everything,” I said, but he gave me the look that was basically a dog shrug. When I went up the steps, the big goof came after me, his claws scrabbling on the stones. About halfway up, he changed his mind and went back down.
At the top of the tower, I had to lean way out to grab the edge of the tarp. Down below me was the whole state of Kansas again. All winter brown, except for those splotches of fire orange. It made my throat tight knowing Gentry might never get to see that view again. I let go of the tarp and took out my phone. Stretching my arm out as far as I could, I took a panoramic picture of as much of the horizon as would fit.
I took one last look for myself, long enough to see Leon trotting down the hill toward the ponds. I called for him and, for the first time, he turned at the sound of his name. I didn’t know anything about tying knots, but I managed to get the tarp fastened. Whether that did any good, I didn’t know, but at least it was done.
When I got back to Rosalinda, she was sitting on the ledge, staring out at the horizon.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I couldn’t remember if I’d told her that. “It’s my fault what happened to Edrard, and I’m sorry.”
“I don’t blame you.” I wasn’t expecting her to say that, and she didn’t sound angry. “The thing is, Gentry would have followed you to the ends of the earth. Edrard couldn’t even be bothered to help with the housework. What he did, that wasn’t because of you. He did it for Gentry, for brotherhood. Maybe it was stupid, but it was also incredibly brave.”
We walked back to the car without talking. I popped the trunk to get my purse and, while the trunk was open, I uprooted the FOR SALE sign and put it in. Then we got on the road to Wichita.
“Would it help if you had your own phone?” I said, after we’d been driving for a while. Now that I’d thought about the FOR SALE sign for thirty miles, I was ready to think about something else. “I could get a phone for you on my plan for like fifty bucks a month.”
“Why would you get a phone for me?” She looked at me like I’d invited her to join a coven of lesbians.
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m just saying, would it help you? With your Etsy store? Not having to count on your brother for so much. Because it’s not that expensive. I can afford that.”
“Seven,” she said. We were up to seven hawks on the drive back. She was quiet for probably ten minutes, until she said, “I could pay you back eventually.”
“You don’t have to. It’s not a loan.”
“That’s a lot of money for you to just give me.”
“Let’s say a year,” I said. “We’ll do it for a year, and either you’ll be able to afford it yourself next year, or we’ll work something else out.”
A year was only six hundred bucks. It wasn’t a lot of money, and it didn’t do a thing to make me less sad about Edrard, but at