Chasing Fire
Page 109

Pain, and she judged it sincere, cut across his face. “I didn’t think about that until I’d already gone. I wasn’t thinking straight. I just thought you and the baby would do better if I left. I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think I’d be alone with no idea where my husband was, if he was dead or alive? You didn’t think I’d have a baby to tend to, bills to pay, questions to answer, and all this right after I put my daughter’s bones in the ground?”
“Our daughter, Reenie.” Under the beard his cheeks reddened as he pounded his fist on the table. “And they think I killed my own girl. That I broke her neck, then burned her like trash in a barrel. Is that what you think? Is it?”
“I stopped thinking, Leo.” She heard her own voice, thought it as dull as her hair, her face. “I had to, just to get from one day to the next, one chore to the next, one bill to the next. I lost my child, my husband, my faith. I’m going to lose my home, and my grandchild.”
“I’ve been living like an animal,” he began. Then stopped, squinted at her. “What are you talking about? They can’t take Shiloh away.”
“I don’t know if they can or not. But I know I can’t raise her right on my own without a good home to give her, or enough time. The Brayners will be here tomorrow, and they’re taking her home to Nebraska.”
“No.” That stranger’s face lit with fury. “Irene, no. Goddamn it, you listen to me now.”
“Don’t you swear at me.” The slap in her voice had his head snapping back. “I’m going to do what’s right by that baby, Leo, and this is what’s best. You’ve got no say in it. You left us.”
“You’re doing this to punish me.”
She sat back. Funny, she realized, she didn’t feel so tired now, so worn, so full of grief. No, she felt stronger, surer, clearer of mind than she had since they’d come to tell her Dolly was dead.
“Punish you? Look at yourself, Leo. Even if I had a mind to punish you, and I just don’t, you’ve already done plenty of it on your own. You say you lived like an animal—well, that was your choice.”
“I did it for you!”
“Maybe you believe that. Maybe you need to. I don’t care. There’s an innocent baby in all this, and she comes first. And for the first time in my life I’m putting myself next. Ahead of you, Leo. Ahead of everydamn-body else.”
Something stirred in her. Not rage, she thought. She was sick of rage, and sick of despair. Maybe, just maybe, what stirred in her was faith—in herself.
“I’m going to do what I have to do for me. I have some thinking to do about that, but I’ll be leaving, most likely to move closer to Shiloh. I’ll take my half of whatever’s left once this is said and done, and leave you yours.”
He jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “You’re going to leave me like this, when I’m locked up, when I need my wife to stand with me?”
“You need,” she repeated, and shook her head. “You’re going to have to get used to your needs being down the line. After Shiloh’s and after mine. I’d’ve stood with you, Leo. I’d’ve done my duty as your wife and stuck by you, whatever it took and for however long. But you changed that when you proved you wouldn’t do the same for me.”
“Now you listen to me, Irene. You listen to me. Somebody took that rifle, took that gun, right out of my house. They did that to ruin me.”
“I hope for the sake of your soul that’s true. But you and Dolly made our house a battlefield, and neither one of you cared enough about me to stop the war. She left me without a second thought, and when we took her back, because that’s what a parent does for a child, she lied and schemed just like always. And you fought and clawed at each other, just like always. With me in the middle, just like always.”
God help her, Irene thought. She’d mourn her child for the rest of her life, but she wouldn’t mourn the war.
“Now she’s gone, and my faith’s so broken I don’t even have the comfort of believing it was God’s will. I don’t have that. You left me alone in the dark when I most needed a strong hand to hold on to.
“I don’t know what you’ve done or haven’t done, but I know that much. I know I can’t depend on you to give me that strong hand, so I have to start depending on me. It’s past time I did.”
She got to her feet. “You should call your lawyer. He’s what you need now.”
“I know you’re upset. I know you’re mad at me, and I guess you’ve got a right to be. But please, don’t leave me here alone, Irene. I’m begging you.”
She tried, one last time, to reach down inside herself for love, or at least for pity. But found nothing.
“I’ll come back when I can, and I’ll bring you what they say I’m allowed to bring. Now I’ve got to go to work. I can’t afford to take any more time off today. If I can find it in me to pray again, I’ll pray for you.”
L.B. hailed Matt as Matt came back from his run.
“Have you got your PT in for the day?”
“Yeah. I was going to grab a shower and some breakfast. Have you got something you want me to do?”
“We could use some help restocking gear and equipment as it gets inspected. The crew got in from Wyoming while you were out.”
“I saw the plane overhead. Man, L.B., did they have trouble, too?”
“Another bad pumper.”
“Well, shit.”
“We’ve got mechanics going over every inch of the rest of them, the saws and so on. We’re unpacking all the chutes, and I’ve got master riggers going over them. Iron Man’s here, so he’s helping with that.”
“Jesus Christ, L.B., you don’t think somebody messed with the chutes?”
“Are you willing to risk it?”
Matt pulled off his cap, scrubbed a hand over his hair. “I guess not. Who the hell would do something like this?”
“We’re damn sure going to find out. Iron Man had news. Leo Brakeman turned himself in this morning.”
“He’s back? In Missoula? The cops have him?”
“That’s exactly right. It makes me wonder how long he’s been around these parts.”