Part 23 (2/2)
Gonzalez swung his feet to the floor with a groan and pulled on his pants with his good arm.
”I just remembered how long it's been since I've watched a sunrise. Don't make too much noise 'talking,” you two.”
”Thanks, Victor. I mean it,” Valentine said.
”You owe me one. See you at breakfast.”
He moved soundlessly up the stairs.
Molly scuttled into Valentine's arms. He kissed her, grateful for her surprise.
”Did you want to talk?” he asked.
”Sort of,” she said. ”But not anymore. Let's go into the secret room. It's dark, and we can make a little bit of noise. But just a little.”
Valentine opened the panel in the wall, and they nipped into the deep shadows, holding hands.
”Hey, you used one of those soaps,” Valentine whispered, smelling her clean skin.
”Yes, this one's-”
”Roses,” Valentine said, caressing her hair. ”Beautiful.”
She shut the door, and they were in blackness so total there was nothing but touch, and the faint smell of roses.
They kissed and kissing, lay down together. They melded in the darkness, learning new ways to please each other, delight each other, and, finally, love each other.
They said good-byes in a steady, spirit-sapping drizzle. As Flanagan and his ubiquitous shadow waited out of the rain in the patrol car, family, friends, and lovers shared a few parting hugs. Valentine, Molly, and her parents all wore the same air of false cheerfulness that appears at a funeral, after a septuagenarian drops dead in perfect health. ”Never knew what hit him,” one relative will say to another. ”Yes, I'd love to go that way. No pain, no suffering, no illness. Lucky man,” the other will agree, jointly looking for the tiny patch of suns.h.i.+ne among the dreary clouds.
The same forced tone was present in Mr. Carlson's voice as he said good-bye to his daughter. Molly wore her oldest cow-mucking work clothes, clean but nevertheless permanently stained. ”Country girl he wants, country girl he gets,” she had said to her mother after turning down the suggestion that she wear her prettiest dress, a blue- checkered barn-dancer that matched her eyes, to cheer herself up. ”No, give that to Mary.
Something to remember me by,” she said, leaving the room before her mother could ask what she meant.
”Take care of that arm, Victor,” Molly said, shaking his left hand. ”My turn to see the big city, Frat. At least Madison isn't Chicago, thank G.o.d. Mary, there's more to horses than riding and brus.h.i.+ng them. I'm putting you in charge of the stables while I'm gone, and you'd better keep it clean.” Her words to Valentine, in hindsight, also hinted at her dark mood under the steel-gray clouds. ”David, you're going tonight, right? When it gets dark?”
”That's the plan. I'm still working on that pack for my horse. We'll be miles away by morning.”
She smiled up at him, satisfied. They wandered to the side of the house, where they could kiss without watchful eyes on them. ”I'll think of you fighting Reapers, David. You know, now that I've thought of it, maybe your Masada solution is the better one. Take a few of them with you.”
”Molly, don't get so grim. You'll look back on this in a couple of years and laugh. Or maybe throw up. But it's not forever. It's really kind of pathetic of him if you think about it.
Sending your b.u.t.t-kissing uncle out into the woods to bring him a dinner date at gunpoint.”
”That's the first thing I'll tell him,” Molly said, beaming at the thought.
”Come back and work the farm. And just because my plan won't work right now doesn't mean it won't three years from now. Some night a team of Wolves will show up at your back door. We'll get your whole family out.”
”If my dad will go. He's pretty committed to smuggling people out of here.”
”Well, I owe your family a very big favor. You're going to collect on it. I'll come for you someday in the fall, if I can.”
She looked into his eyes. ”I think three years from now, you'll have more important things to worry about. Be careful with promises. You know that saying, ”Tomorrow is promised to no one,” right? That's like the law of the Kurian lands.”
”You've got five years promised to you and your family.”
”We'll see, David. That bond might be as worthless as the ring he tossed into the audience.
Just go tonight, okay? But can you tell me one thing, David? Was I your first time... you know... lovemaking?”
Valentine owed her the truth. ”Yes. I hope you liked it. I've never been very... lucky with women.”
”Good. You'll remember me, then.”
”I'll remember you as the Wisconsin beauty who was re-ally good at pointing out the obvious,” he said, giving her nose a gentle tweak.
They embraced, kissed, and touched each other's faces as if trying to record memories with their fingertips.
”Believe it or not, I'll come for you. It's a promise, Molly.” He read hurt disbelief in her eyes.
”No, not a promise: a vow.” Now only the hurt remained.
”Don't,” she said, unable to look at him. ”A lot can happen in three years.”
”A lot can happen in three days. Like falling in love, Melissa.”
”David, stop. You're just making this hard, making it painful. This is an end. I don't want you to talk like it's a beginning.”
He kissed her, trying to win a concession through sheer sensual power.”No,” she said, lowering her eyes from his. ”I can't. Not when I have to... go like this.”
She turned and fled.
At dinner that night, Valentine and Gonzalez decided to leave with the first light of dawn. A morning departure, with a quick good-bye to the Breitlings, would seem less suspicious than a midnight escape.
After a final farewell talk with the Carlsons, Gonzalez and Valentine lay in the bas.e.m.e.nt, their guns and packs stored for the last night in the secret room. Gonzalez hid his anxiety about his injured arm well, but Valentine knew the worry dragged at his scout. Gonzalez worked best when the only thing worrying him was what might be around the next bend or over the next hill, so he talked frankly about how they would accommodate his injury on the trip home. The rest of the household had long since retired, and they burned only a foul- smelling tallow dip for light.
”You'll ride,” Valentine said after rolling his maps back up into their tube. ”I wish we could hang around longer, but it might be months before your arm is totally healed.”
”You think it will get better?”
”Of course, Gonzo. Nerve tissue just takes forever to heal.”
Gonzalez moved two painful fingers. ”I don't know about that. Might never grow back.”
”Well, you can move your hand a little. I think that's a good sign. In fact... Hey, an engine.”
Both Wolves used their hard ears. It sounded like a truck engine. Perhaps one of the semi drivers was pa.s.sing through with another foundling. But it stopped in the road, idling with thick coughs of exhaust.
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