by Zoe Chant
But they were interrupted by the rumble of an engine, and Ducker's big, gleaming black truck pulled into the parking lot. Maddox had only seen it in the dusk last night, and it was even more impressive by daylight, freshly washed without a speck of dust on it (What does he do, go through the car wash every day? Maddox thought), with a gleaming chrome grille and a lift kit and a rack of lights above the cab.
"Saved by the bell, huh?" Maddox murmured as the sheriff took a step back, taking his hand off his weapon.
Ducker stepped down from the truck's cab, dapper and silver-haired. When he approached, Maddox could see the swelling of a bruise still visible on his jaw. It had been expertly covered with pancake makeup to conceal the colors, but it was there.
"What's going on here, exactly?" Ducker inquired.
"Your pet sheriff's throwing his weight around," Maddox said before Hawkins could say anything. "Lucky for him Daddy showed up before he got his ass handed to him, again."
"You know what? I think a night in jail would cool you off real nice," the sheriff snarled. He drew his gun half out of the holster.
"Quiet down, Ted," Ducker said, holding out a hand. For a tense moment, the sheriff didn't move; then, slowly, he slid the gun back into place.
"Daddy said no," Maddox murmured. The sheriff's face turned purple.
"It might be in your best interests, son, to stop antagonizing the local power structure," Ducker said pleasantly. He looked up at the sign that Bailey and Verity were taking down. "Running for sheriff, are you? You do have a set of balls on you, don't you, boy." For the first time the pleasant veneer slipped somewhat, and Maddox glimpsed the snakelike coldness underneath the genial surface.
"Not just running," Maddox said. "I plan to win."
"Do you, now."
"Why are we putting up with this?" the sheriff demanded in an undertone. "I'll just run him in to the station ... and maybe he'll have a little accident along the way."
"You ever think about putting a leash on your dog?" Maddox wanted to know.
"You son of a bitch, I'm going to—"
"I said calm down, Ted." This time there was a snap of command in Ducker's voice. The sheriff subsided, breathing heavily, and Ducker gestured to the café. "Why don't we go have a cup of coffee and talk this over like civilized people."
Maddox had to stop himself from looking Verity's way. The less Ducker and Hawkins knew about how close they were, the better. He could only hope she wouldn't try to come in after him. "Yeah," he said. "Cup of coffee'd be great."
***
They slid into a booth at the Whistlestop. Ducker sat across from Maddox, and the sheriff pulled up a chair on the outside of the booth, half blocking the aisle (to the waitress's visible annoyance) and stopping Maddox from being able to easily leave. Maddox could have smiled; how many times had he pulled the same trick himself?
He wasn't afraid of Ducker, not in a public place like this. Men like Ducker weren't so dangerous in public. It was afterwards, in the dark, that the knives came out.
"I don't know if you're the bravest man I've met, or simply the stupidest," Ducker remarked, sipping at a cup of coffee. "Most men would have left town after what happened to you the other day."
"I'm not the running kind," Maddox said.
"You're gonna learn," Hawkins said darkly.
Ducker gave him a quelling look, and the sheriff shut up. "Let's not be uncivilized about this. I think what we have here is a difference of opinion that ought to be relatively easy to resolve. So your name is Maddox Murphy, is it? Friends call you Maddox?"
"You're not my friend."
"Oh, but I'd like to be ... Maddox. You know, this county is very happy with Ted here as their sheriff."
"Funny," Maddox said. "That's not what I've heard from the actual people in this town."
"Oh, really? You've been in town for, what, two days, and you're suddenly an expert on what people in this town want and need?"
"I know what they don't need, and that's a small-time bully like Ted here." Maddox glanced at him, and found the sheriff glaring at him with undisguised loathing. "Trust me, I know his type."
"Do you now," Ducker said quietly. "What exactly is your experience in this area, Maddox?"
"None of your damn business, is what it is," Maddox said, and knew he'd made a mistake when a flicker of cool satisfaction crossed Ducker's face.
"Oh? You know something, Maddox. I expect you have talents in the same areas Ted does. Useful talents. I expect, in fact, that I might have a lot of use for a man like you."
"What?" The sheriff gave him a shocked look. "You can't possibly—"
"I didn't ask you, Ted. I'm speaking to Mr. Murphy here. And what I'd like very much to know, Maddox, is whether you might be interested in a job."
Maddox made himself smile, although he didn't want to. It was a smile he'd practiced on some of his previous jobs. A scary smile. "You remember I flattened you the other day, right? You sure you want me around?"
Ducker's face went cool and still. His eyes were cold as ice. "I'll be honest here. What I want is to turn Ted loose on you and stand back and enjoy it as he beats you to a pulp. But I'm a practical man. I haven't gotten where I am today by letting go of a useful asset."
"Yeah," Maddox said quietly. "That's what people are to men like you, right? Assets. No thanks. I'm not interested in your job offer."
"I'd take some time to think about it, if I were you. This is an offer you don't want to turn down."
"I don't need time to think. I'd rather shovel cowshit than take a single dollar from you. In fact, sir, that's an insult to cowshit. Shoveling shit is a good honest occupation, unlike working for you."
Ducker's face had gone colder and colder with every word. "Son, you want to take some advice from me—"
"Oh, and that's the other thing," Maddox said. This felt so freeing, all of a sudden. It was like being able to go back to all the terrible mafia bosses he'd ever worked for, everyone who'd helped shape him into a person he hated being, and give a big middle finger to all of them. "I'm not your son. I'm not your boy. I'm not your friend. I don't take advice from you, I'm never going to work for you, and ..." He shoved the cup of cooling coffee away from him, not without a little regret since coffee was in short supply around Verity's house. "I don't even want your stupid coffee."
He got up. The sheriff got up too. For a long moment they just stared at each other. Maddox threw back his shoulders to make himself look bigger than he was, emphasizing how his muscles strained against his T-shirt; it was a trick he'd used in the past, one he wasn't proud of, but it was often effective. The sheriff showed no signs of backing down; he'd dropped his hand to the butt of his service weapon again.
"Not here, Ted," Ducker said quietly. There wasn't a hint of friendliness anymore in his face or tone.
The sheriff hesitated just long enough to make Maddox wonder if this was going to be the time when the dog slipped his leash. Then he stepped out of the way, enough to give Maddox room to get out of the booth (barely), though Maddox still had to push past him to get out.
Maddox walked out of the restaurant, feeling their eyes on him and trying his damnedest not to limp. It was like being surrounded by wolves or sharks: you didn't want to show weakness.
In the parking lot, the kids were nowhere in sight and everything had been packed up and vanished along with the teens and their farm trucks. All that was left were Verity and Bailey, sitting on the curb waiting for him. He wished they hadn't; in fact, he almost walked by them without saying anything, because the absolute last thing he wanted was for the sheriff and Ducker (who he knew were watching out the window) to see them greet him. But Bailey was already jumping to her feet, holding out his cane.
Maddox reluctantly took it. "Hey," he said, as Verity hooked her arm through his. "You know what we talked about, with Bailey going to her boyfriend's place? I think she oughta do that. And we need to get out of here."
"Wait, I'm doing what now?" Bailey protested,
as they started walking. Maddox forced himself not to look over his shoulder. It was a short walk back to Verity and Bailey's place, all of it on very public streets, and it was the middle of the day. They didn't have anything to worry about. Yet.
"You're going to pack an overnight bag when we get home and go over to Luke's grandma's place," Verity said firmly.
"Think she'll be safe there?" Maddox asked.
"I know she will. Luke lives on the rez—the Indian reservation. The sheriff has no jurisdiction there, and Ducker knows he's not welcome."
"You should go too."
Verity shook her head.
"What's going on?" Bailey asked. "Are you guys in trouble?"
"Bullies don't like it when people stand up to them," Maddox said. "Sometimes they do dumb things. Verity, I'm goddamn sorry I got you into this."
Verity pressed his arm. "You didn't get me into anything. You were right all along. We can't just sit around and let Ducker and his pet sheriff squeeze the lifeblood out of this town. Someone had to stand up to him eventually. It might as well be us."
Chapter Ten: Verity
It surprised Verity a little that she wasn't more afraid than she was. But she'd meant what she said to Maddox. She was glad someone had finally decided to stand up to Ducker and Hawkins. She just hoped too much of the blowback didn't fall on Bailey.
After some arguing, Bailey had finally agreed to pack up and go stay with Luke's family. One of Luke's uncles swung by in a farm truck to pick her up, and Verity finally breathed a long sigh of relief as the truck rattled off into the distance.
"Still wish I could get you to go with her," Maddox said, his voice heavy.
"I'm not going to run," Verity said. "It's my town. My problem."
"Our problem."
She reached out and his hand settled in hers. Verity squeezed his fingers. "Our problem."
She intended to leave the store locked up for the rest of the day, but then the doorbell rang, and there was a constant stream of visitors who had either heard about the confrontation in the parking lot or had picked up the Saturday-afternoon weekly paper and had found out about Maddox's candidacy. Everyone wanted to shake his hand. Eventually Verity flipped the sign back to CLOSED and locked up the shop just to give them some peace.
"This whole town has been waiting for someone like you to show up," she told Maddox while she puttered around in the kitchen, making them a early dinner.
"I'm not a leader," Maddox said, sounding uncomfortable.
"What we need isn't a leader, not really. We can handle that part for ourselves. What we need is someone to give us hope."
"Never thought I'd be that, either."
He sounded so depressed, so downcast. Verity turned away from the sink. "Maddox," she began, and then stopped.
They'd never talked about his past, not even once. She had no idea what had led him to wander into their town, apparently without a single attachment in the world. But now, when she could have asked, she caught herself and stopped.
Because it really didn't matter to her. Wherever he'd been, whoever he'd been, she didn't care. She knew who he was now, and that was the important thing.
And maybe he needed to hear that.
"You are now," she said simply. "We needed hope. You brought us that. Now it's out there in the town, and it's spreading. I think Hawkins and Ducker aren't going to find us nearly as easy to push around anymore."
"You might be surprised," Maddox said gloomily. "I shouldn't have pushed so hard, so fast. When you push bullies, they push back. I made 'em back down in front of the whole town. Now they're gonna want to make an example out of me. That's how it works. I don't care so much if they come after me, but what I don't like is the idea they might come after you."
"They've come after me before, remember? I got through it all right. And now I have you to protect me."
"I just hope things don't end up worse for you than if I'd never come here."
"They won't." She found his shoulder with a light touch, and used that to guide herself into his lap, straddling his legs. "I'm glad you're here. I'm looking forward to facing whatever comes next—together."
His lips found hers, and their gentle kiss turned heated.
"You know," Verity murmured, "we have a whole evening in front of us without a teenager in the house. I can turn off the stove under that taco meat and we can have a little pre-dinner appetizer, if you feel like it."
***
They made love and then ate a leisurely dinner of burritos and salad, sitting on the balcony with the evening growing cool around them. There was a chill in the air that hadn't been there just a few nights ago.
"So how cold does it get here?" Maddox asked. "Cold enough to snow?"
"Up in the mountains. Not so much down here. Once or twice a winter, maybe."
"I've never really been in the desert much. It's different from what I'm used to."
"This isn't really even desert around here," Verity said. "It's more ranch country. Go south a little ways, and then you'll see real desert."
"I'd like to go down there sometime." His hand brushed hers, a kind of feeling-out touch to avoid startling her before taking her hand. She wondered if he knew how much those little courtesies meant to her. "What do you think about a little trip, when we get through all of this?"
"Oh," she said. She and Bailey never really went anywhere; Bailey had just recently gotten her driver's license, and there was exactly one taxicab in the entire town, so Verity usually relied on neighbors to drive her places. Long driving trips were out of the question. Anyway, she'd never really had much desire to travel. It wasn't like she could look at scenery, and she liked knowing where everything was. The idea of finding her way around new places and sitting in a car for hours sounded like the opposite of fun to her.
But then she thought about doing it with Maddox. Sitting in a car no longer sounded like a chore if she had Maddox to talk to. And he could tell her what he was seeing, and show her around new places without making her feel like she was too slow or a burden—or the opposite, with Bailey, where she was the one who was supposed to be in charge, so there was always the pressure on her to make sure that she was never lost or disoriented.
"Do you like traveling?" she asked Maddox.
"I guess I've never really stopped to think if it's something I like or not," he said after a moment. "It's just something I've been doing. I used to go new places for ... work, and then I kinda didn't have anywhere to settle down." He hesitated again. "I think ... I do like seeing new places, but I also have been moving around so much because I've been looking for something, and that something was home." He ran his fingers, rough with calluses, across her smoother ones. "That something was you."
Her heart turned over in her chest. "I think I've been looking for you too, without knowing I was," she said shyly. "I am kind of a homebody, I admit it. But I think I might like to go somewhere new, if you were there. If traveling is something you'd like to do."
"I think I might, but I'd want somewhere to come back to."
"You'll always have that." She could feel the smile breaking out on her face, and she hoped he was smiling back. In fact ... there was no reason why she couldn't find out. She reached out and brushed the backs of her fingers across his lips, and yes, there was a smile, along with a scruff of beard stubble.
"Oh, you know what, Maddox, we should see if I have a spare razor in the bathroom. In fact, there are a lot of things you need if you're going to look respectable enough to beat Hawkins and Ducker at their own game. We can do a bit of shopping tomorrow."
"I don't have much money."
"Oh, Maddox, don't worry about it. I expect that once you explain to the business owners in town that you're trying to oust Hawkins, they'll give you whatever you want. Ugh, those bullies. I don't know why we've put up with them for so long."
In the bathroom, she dug out the box of supplies and found the bag of razors that Bailey used to shave her legs. She found a spot among the gi
rly clutter around the sink to lay one out for Maddox.
We're going to need to make space for his things, she thought.
Was this really likely to become that permanent?
Yes. At least, I hope so.
***
Verity woke with the vague sense that something was wrong.
She lay with her head pillowed on Maddox's chest, listening to his quiet breathing and trying to figure out what had awakened her. She felt dazed and heavy, with sleep trying to drag her back down ... but no, that wasn't right, because she usually woke up feeling bright and active; she was a natural morning person. Then again, she also wasn't a terribly light sleeper, so she rarely woke up at night like this.
She'd been having an unpleasant dream, and maybe that was it. She hated the wildfires that had started becoming more common in the summer, and she'd been dreaming about one of those, a brushfire chasing her through the town. It had been a sort of liquid fire with a texture like egg yolk, not really burning things, not even burning her when she touched it, but leaping in its weird fluid way from one house to another, and always finding her when she tried to hide. Now she was left with the unsettled feeling that always went along with waking up from a bad dream.
She could also still smell the smoke from the dream, which was contributing to the uneasy feeling.
Actually ...
Actually, that really was smoke.
Verity sat bolt upright in bed and shook Maddox. "Wake up! Maddox, something's on fire."
Stupid, she thought, scrambling for her robe as Maddox began to stir. Stupid, to think Hawkins and Ducker wouldn't try something different this time. She'd thought at worst they might vandalize the shop again, or send some thugs—or the sheriff himself—to try the same kind of intimidation tactics they'd tried before.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
When she opened the door into the hall, the acrid wildfire smell was much stronger. Thank God that Bailey was over at Luke's—and also that Maddox was here, because he could tell her where the smoke was coming from, without her having to try to follow her nose to the source of it.