by Dawn, Maira
The soft thump of their boots hitting the well-worn trail was the only sound.
They passed from the shelter of the trees onto the bare arch of the overlook, and Dylan stopped. Why am I doin’ this?
He looked at Skye, sinking into her green eyes. For her. He was doing it for her.
Dylan tightened his grip on her hand as he walked to the edge of the overlook. "Remember when I told you I hated this place?"
"Yes, I remember," Skye said. “The day of the picnic.”
"It's because this is where my guilt lies. Down this cliff. Down the very drop Jesse would've gone that day."
Wide-eyed, Skye looked down the rocky, steep mountain. "What's down there, Dylan?"
It took him a moment. He pressed his lips together more than once before he could steady himself enough to say, "My mother."
"What?" Skye’s gaze whipped back to his face.
He couldn’t look at her. It was hard enough to hear the shock in her voice.
"Dylan, your mother is truly down this cliff?"
"Yes."
"Oh, no, Dylan," Skye softly said as she shook her head and stumbled backward.
Her actions mirrored the ones he'd had when his father had dragged him and Wade up here and told them. It'd taken every shred of his will not to shove the old man down there too.
Dylan felt Skye's free hand grip his arm, felt her pull him away from the edge. He let her.
"Why?" she asked softly.
Dylan's tight shoulders slumped as he gazed at her. Tears sat ready to fall from her eyes, her skin had lost its rosy glow and seemed paler than usual. A cold wind rushed up from below the cliff, fiercely stirring her dark hair. Dylan moved his hand to gently push it behind her ear. Then he wrapped his arms around her to ward off the chill.
"After what Mom said. Her being worried he'd kill me and all. We started stayin' up here more and more, fixing up the place. One day, we hammered the last nail into the roof, and I said we shouldn't ever go back. It was me.” He whispered the last words.
"Wade was all for it at first. But after a while, he wanted to go home. It was a lot for him, being the oldest. I think he felt responsible for makin' sure we did okay.
"I refused. I told Wade to go back if he wanted, but I wasn't going, so he ended up stayin' too. Maybe because I gave up my real dad for him."
Dylan cleared his throat. "We'd heard Dad was ornerier than ever. We'd stopped in and seen Mom a couple times, making sure she was okay. She didn't let on. We didn't know.
"She was never close with Wade and me. Wasn't all that caring of a woman. Wasn't really even a good mom, I always knew that. But she didn't deserve what she got.
"The last time we visited her. She told us to go away and not come back. That we were just causin' her trouble. I was upset, but Wade took it real hard and stormed out of the place. When I looked back at her, she seemed, I don't know, lost somehow. I thought then she was saving us. That was the last time I saw her, with that look on her face.”
Dylan narrowed his eyes. "We knew Dad had been tryin' to find us. It was easy enough to avoid him, but we worried someone would tell him where we lived. Seems that's what happened. Otherwise, why would Mom be here?
"I was smashing bottles against a wall in town when Mom raced up here after him. Revving a sports-car I hotwired when he turned to drag her to the cliff. And chuggin' a bottle of Jack when she screamed her last words as she fell.
"I didn't see any of it. I didn't hear any of it. But I feel all of it now.”
"Dylan, what are you saying?"
"The old man was coming for us, and Mom tried to stop him. So, he threw her down there, Skye. Like she was nothin'. Like it was nothin'."
Skye's legs crumbled beneath her, and she pulled Dylan down with her. Her arms tightened around him. “Oh, that’s terrible.”
Silently, they sat there on the cold, stiff grass for a few minutes before Dylan spoke again, "I always thought, in the end, she was a good mom."
"She was a wonderful mom. She gave her life for her children."
Dylan nodded and laid his head against Skye's for a moment before saying, "For a long time, I took that guilt on myself. Thinkin' if I'd gone back or checked in more—but the thing is, I didn't kill her. He did.
"You didn't kill those people in Barbarton. Those three did. Sometimes things happen because of something we did. Sometimes they're our fault, but sometimes they ain't."
Dylan put his hand to Skye's face, feeling her smooth skin as he tipped her head to him. He waited until her eyes met his. "These things here. They ain't on us. Yeah, we feel the weight of them, but we gotta push it behind us."
Skye lowered her gaze, and Dylan tipped her chin a little more. "Ya hear?" he said.
Skye reached up and pulled his hand away from her face, kissing it as she did so. "I know. You’re right. It's just hard."
Dylan looked out at the blue sky where the ground of the mountain disappeared. "It sure is."
Skye stroked his hand. "And your dad?"
"Dad told everyone she went off to live with some of her relatives in Texas. No one checked on it. The cops just thought we were, well, what we were, and didn't pay us any mind when we told them.
“We knew, ‘cause he told us, threatened us with the same thing. He let us know our mom died because of us. ‘Course then he lit into us and dragged us home. But it was the last time.
"We left him there in that empty house. Never stepped foot in there again, not once in years. Then, Wade and I got word a few weeks after the AgFlu started that he'd gotten sick. So, we headed to town to watch him die. We had to. He'd done so much damage. Wade and I, we wear his scars in our memories and on our bodies. We needed to know he was gone."
"Did it help?"
Dylan held his breath for a moment before letting it out in a rush. "Some days. But he still lives on. We still hear him belittling us when we screw something up. Still see him comin' after us, when we catch sight of our scars. Still wake hard from our nightmares.”
Skye rose to her knees, then ran her fingers through his hair. "Why didn't you tell me this before now?" she asked.
Dylan shook his head and looked away. "I don't know. It's been on my mind to, but I'm always thinking—this will be the thing that sends her packin’."
Skye pulled in a quick breath, her mouth in a little “o”. "Dylan. I’ve told you, you can't get rid of me now if you try. Never, ever. You got that, mister?"
Relieved, Dylan felt his chest warm the way is always did when she reassured him. He ducked his head, looking up at her with a grin. "Never, ever?"
"Never. Ever."
His smile turned to a smirk, and his hands tightened on her sides. "Then get over here, girl!"
Skye giggled wildly as he tickled her. "Stop, stop! I can't breathe!"
Dylan pulled his hands away and held them up.
Seeing her chance at escape, Skye scrambled over him, and took off across the grassy area, heading for the trail down the hill.
Dylan shot after her, laughing. "Hey! What happened to 'never ever'?"
Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Skye shouted, "You're going to have to catch me."
He chuckled as he gained on her. That wouldn’t be so hard to do.
23
Potatoes
The next morning, Skye knelt on the ground, working in her garden. Although she hadn’t been much of a gardener before moving up here, with some reading and Wade’s guidance, she had a nice little crop of winter vegetables growing.
She lifted the lid on one of the mini-greenhouses and checked the plants' progress. Which was far enough along for dinner tonight? While Skye was still deciding, Sue Ellen plopped herself down beside her.
“What are ya doing?” the girl asked.
Skye sent her a welcoming smile. It wasn’t often Sue Ellen willingly interacted with her, and she didn’t want to send her fleeing now. “Figuring out what looks good for dinner. We have a bit of a choice. Onions, spinach, kale, peas or carrots. What s
ounds good to you?”
“Carrots. That’s what I’d like.”
“Okay. Sounds good. And how about a stew? We can use some onions, and a bit of garlic, for it. I just wish I could scrounge up some potatoes.”
“I think that old lady across the way was talking about having some potatoes.”
Skye looked the way Sue Ellen had nodded. “You mean Mrs. Gilmore?” When Sue Ellen nodded, Skye murmured, “Umm, I wonder if she would be interested in trading me some for something I have here.”
“Maybe.” Sue Ellen tipped her head. “You know what you should do? You should start a little bartering place, like a swap meet. Then everyone would have one place to trade what they don’t want for what they do want.”
“Sue Ellen! That is a great idea. Much better than going from cabin to cabin for stuff.” Skye patted the girl’s back. “I guess it took some new eyes to see what we were missing.”
Sue Ellen looked at Skye then at the ground, her cheeks pinking. “I could help out some.”
Skye's heart warmed with this first real offer of— well, anything from Sue Ellen. “Of course, you could. It’s your idea!”
Skye frowned as she started to think about the details. “Where could it be held? I wonder if we could use—”
“The courthouse!” Sue Ellen broke in. “I mean unless that’s a dumb idea.”
“Of course not! It’s just what I was thinking. I mean, hopefully, it won’t be used a lot for court cases. It would be nice after what happened to use it for something, I don’t know, happy.”
Skye rose and brushed the dirt from her knees. “Let’s take these into the kitchen, then go see if Mrs. Gilmore will trade some potatoes. And we’ll ask her what she thinks of a swap meet. I bet she’ll love the idea.”
Sue Ellen hesitated, and Skye prayed she wouldn’t suddenly turn sullen as she often did. “Come on. She’ll love it, and I can’t very well act like it’s my idea. You should come with me.”
“Okay, sure. Why not?” Sue Ellen shrugged. As they walked, she said, “I want a music player like you have.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. With everything that happened, I kind of forgot about some things. You can use mine whenever you’d like.”
“I appreciate that, but I want my own. I’ve always wanted one, but Grandma said no. Probably too expensive. But now they’re not, right? Maybe we could trade for one?”
Skye nodded. This may be an excellent opportunity for Sue Ellen to offer something more than a sulky glare and a few curt words. The only people she was civil with were Jesse and Wade, most of the time anyway.
“How about this?” Skye said. “If you can see your way to helping me get this thing started, it’ll be the first thing we trade for. Is that a deal?”
Sue Ellen’s eyes brightened. “It’s a deal.”
Skye could smell the fresh-baked bread even before they stepped foot in Mrs. Gilmore’s yard. The older woman had moved up from Colton with her daughter, Georgia, and seventeen-year-old grandson, Travis. They were all that was left of her once large family consisting of over forty relatives.
Skye scanned the glen. Georgia and Travis’ home stood right beside Mrs. Gilmore’s tiny one. Across the way was a new neighbor. A woman who looked to be in her forties was chopping wood. The two waved at each other, and Skye made a mental note to stop by and introduce herself.
“Do you know her?” Skye asked Sue Ellen.
“How would I know her?” Sue Ellen groused at her. “I just been here a few weeks.”
Skye controlled her irritation. And she’s back. “I just don’t remember seeing her before.”
Sue Ellen shrugged, unwilling to add anything else to the conversation.
Mrs. Gilmore opened the door wide and seemed tickled pink to be receiving visitors. She swept Sue Ellen up in a hug. “Look at this beautiful young woman!”
To Skye’s surprise, the girl not only allowed the embrace but seemed to enjoy every minute of it.
“How fortunate you are to have a girl now. My Georgia is the light of my life!”
Even though they’d had a rocky start, Skye hoped someday she could say the same about Sue Ellen.
“Yes, we are. And she’s coming up with the best ideas.” She waved at the girl to encourage her to explain.
Sue Ellen glowed as she prattled on about the swap meet. She had good ideas on everything from the way it should be organized to the items that would probably trade best.
Skye stood back and smiled, happy the girl had found something she was so interested in.
Mrs. Gilmore acted as though it was the best idea since sliced bread and said as much. Skye wholeheartedly agreed.
“You know,” Skye said, putting an arm around Sue Ellen’s shoulders, “we shouldn’t just call it a swap meet, we should name it. We should call it, Sue Ellen’s Exchange. What do you think?”
Sue Ellen’s blue eyes grew rounder than usual. “Really? My name?”
“It sounds like a wonderful name to me,” Mrs. Gilmore said. “It’s your idea, after all.”
As Skye loaded up the potatoes, Mrs. Gilmore had eagerly traded for onions and garlic, the sharp sound of an ax reminded her of the neighbors. “I didn’t realize you had new neighbors.”
“Oh, yes, Annette her name is,” Mrs. Gilmore said. “Says she was passing through Colton and the deputy on duty down there sent her up here. Been here about a week or so. Seems nice enough, but I haven’t talked to her all that much.”
Mrs. Gilmore peered out the window at the woman. “Don’t know why she’s doin’ all that choppin’, she’s got a man in there. Wonder if he’s feeling under the weather.”
Skye shivered, an automatic reaction now anytime word went out someone was ill. But people still got colds and other flues all the time. “I hope not. You take care, Mrs. Gilmore. I’d stay on your side of the glen until you know everything is fine.”
“I will. And you two call me Maisey, you hear?”
Skye and Sue Ellen nodded. As they turned for the trail home, a young man came out of the cabin beside Maisey’s. The boy’s shirt hung over his shoulder.
“Dang!” Sue Ellen murmured.
Skye had to admit he leaned more toward man than boy, but she pretended not to have heard the girl.
Across from Travis, a man came out of Annette’s cabin and took the ax from the woman. When he began to chop the wood himself, Skye blew out a relieved sigh. The last thing they needed was any sickness making its way through the community.
24
The Exchange
Word spread throughout the community about Sue Ellen’s Exchange, and excitement was high. Everyone had something to contribute, and something else they would be looking for.
With Dylan, Wade and Jesse’s help, Sue Ellen’s Exchange was set up by the next Saturday.
The chairs from inside the courthouse were scattered under the trees and tables loaded with sale items filled the large room. Outside, someone grilled burgers, and someone else fried apple fritters.
Skye’s stomach growled. She couldn’t wait to taste some of the food. She watched as people loaded up their tables and helped where needed. But more often than not, she was drawn to the happy musician playing the fiddle to the side of the gathering.
Warmth spread through Skye and she smiled. The whole mountain had come together for this. It had been something everyone needed. The day was warmer than usual, but Skye didn’t think that would’ve mattered. The lively chatter all around her told her everyone would have been there even if it had snowed.
For lunch, Skye made a plate and wove her way through the small gathering toward Dylan. They’d both been so busy this was the first time they could take a moment to sit down. He waved her to a chair beside his.
“Oh, Dylan! I love this. It turned out so great. It reminds me of the farmer’s markets I used to go to in the city.”
“People been doin’ this for centuries, no matter what they call it. Don’t know about anyplace else, but here, it’s in the blood.”
“I feel that the Agflu hasn’t really changed this mountain and its people all that much.”
“It ain’t. Not most of us anyway.”
“I was very, very fortunate that day I found you on the side of the road, mountain man.”
Dylan shoveled another large forkful into his mouth and swallowed as he shook his head in disagreement. “I was about to come down the mountain and haul you up. It was getting too dicey in town.”
“Oh, you were, were you?” Sky laughed. “That would’ve been interesting.”
A twinkle lit his eye. “I thought so.” He scanned her plate. “Where’d you get potato salad?”
“Anita has it. She keeps apologizing that it doesn’t have all the ingredients, but I don’t know why, because it's still so good.”
“I’m gonna get some.”
Skye nodded and watched him as he walked away. One of her favorite views. She blushed when an old woman across the way caught her. But the lady just winked at her.
After taking her last bite, Skye leaned back in the wooden fold-up chair and put a hand on her full belly. Before living here, she would’ve found this gathering a quaint, old-fashioned way of socializing.
But it wasn’t that at all. It was a time-tested way of marketing, socializing, and building friendships.
When Dylan tapped her arm with a bottle of moonshine, she raised an eyebrow and took a sip.
And more than that, this was fun.
That evening, as they made their way back home, they chatted about the day.
Jesse went on about some boys he had met and their game of makeshift basketball.
Wade, who had over-indulged a bit on both food and drink, insisted on singing. It seemed that with every step, his voice got louder.
Every so often, Jesse would send him an eye-roll and raise his own voice a little more.
Sue Ellen proudly showed off her first-ever music player. It already had many songs on it, and Bre was going to download more from their computer.