by Nathan Jones
An awkward silence fell between them. He wasn't sure if she was waiting for him to talk or working up the courage to speak herself, but either way he didn't have the patience for it. “Not exactly watching the sunset,” he observed.
Kristy's laugh didn't sound completely forced, at least. “No, it isn't. Can you actually see out here?”
“Well enough. Your eyes'll get used to it.”
“I'll have to take your word on that,” she replied, still trying to force a lighthearted tone. “At least the company's pleasant.”
Tom wasn't sure about that. Or that is, he certainly enjoyed the young woman's presence, or would've if that fight on the hill wasn't still hanging over them like a pall. Even so he wasn't sure he wanted her to leave.
After another silence that lasted too long he cleared his throat. “How are your friends?”
“Sleeping,” Kristy said immediately. After a brief hesitation she continued quietly. “Vicky's not doing so good. She obviously went through hell in that camp, although she won't talk about it. She won't talk about much of anything, really, and barely lets go of Lisa. I'm worried about her.”
Tom nodded sympathetically. He couldn't even imagine. “It's good you're there for her. She'll need people she can count on to get through this.”
Kristy gave him a sharp look, features hard to read in the darkness. Either she'd caught something in his tone he hadn't meant to express, or she was tying his words to their own argument and her broken promise and assumed he was being sarcastic. Which he also hadn't meant to do.
After an uncomfortable pause she cleared her throat, turning to face him on the bench so their knees nearly touched. “I never got a chance to thank you. For rescuing the Hendricksons and the others, and for stopping to pick me up. For getting us all safely here.”
Tom shrugged again. He'd always been of the opinion that real gratitude was better expressed than spoken. Thanks was just a word. Still, she sounded sincere. “I was glad I was able to.”
The woman looked down at her hands, pale hair falling over her face as she continued in a quiet voice. “And I wanted to apologize for what happened before. For breaking my promise. And for the awful things I said.”
Tom looked away, out at the lights of Grand Junction. “Remember back before you made that promise, how I told you a person's integrity is all they really have in this life?”
“I remember.” He heard a soft rustle as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of folded paper, offering it to him. “Sorry I took so long getting it to you. I've been working on it since we got here.”
Tom took the paper and cautiously unfolded it, even though it was obviously too dark to read. “What is it?”
“It's a cutout of a map of Utah County with a spot marked on it. Along with detailed instructions for how to find the cache of Miles Graham and a description of its location. On the back is a list of the items my husband gathered, everything I could remember.” In the shadows of her face he saw the flash of teeth as she smiled, her tone becoming wry. “It's still a long list.”
Well how about that? The question was, should he consider a promise broken then eventually kept water under the bridge? Tom folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket. “I'll look forward to reading it when I can see.”
Kristy leaned forward, voice fervent. “It wasn't right of me to demand what I did, or to hold back payment after you held up your end of the deal. Especially when you saved my and Skyler's lives in the first place. I could tell you I was an emotional wreck at the time and that's not who I am, but I doubt you want to hear it.” Her voice caught, and she sniffled softly before continuing. “I just hope you can give me a second chance.”
Tom stared at the pale blur of her face, uncomfortably aware of how close it was. “I hope so too.”
The young woman sighed, either in relief or disappointment at his response, and settled back on the bench. He expected her to make an excuse to leave now that she'd done what she came to do, but to his surprise she stuck around. And now that the air between them had cleared, at least in part, the silence between them was almost companionable.
“What's next for you?” she finally asked.
Tom chuckled. “Heading home.”
Kristy immediately nodded. “Yeah, Bob wants to take Vicky and Lisa back to Utah, too. As far away from what's coming from the south as we can get.” She snorted. “We might even join you up in the mountains, if you have no objections.”
“Plenty of room,” Tom agreed, a bit irritated at how his heart leapt at the idea. He still wasn't sure whether he'd forgiven her, whether he could trust her, but he was already looking forward to the thought of spending more time with her?
Well, she had kept her promise in the end. And after she could've just stuck to having broken it, gone back to Utah and taken her dead husband's buried treasure for herself since she was headed back there anyway. He supposed that counted for something.
If the map was accurate and the cache was really there. But somehow he felt sure it would be; Kristy's behavior yesterday, or he supposed day before yesterday now, really hadn't been like her. And it wasn't as if he hadn't done things he regretted himself, bitter lessons hard learned that had made him a better person in the end.
“I broke up with Simon,” Kristy said abruptly.
Tom shot her a sharp look, wondering what her motivation for telling him that was. To let him know she was available? As an indirect apology for the man's behavior? Just the need to vent to someone who was willing to listen?
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure there's not a person in those trucks who didn't get a front row seat for it,” he said wryly. She sucked in a sharp breath, and something in her posture made him feel guilty about his flippancy. He shrugged uncomfortably. “I'm sorry you had to go through that. He said a lot of unfair and hurtful things.”
The young woman snorted, though there was a bit of a sob in it. “I suppose you'd know how that feels better than anyone, huh?” Before he could answer she leaned forward and rested a hand on his. “I really am sorry, Tom. You didn't deserve that. I-I can't think of a person I admire more than you.”
Tom froze as if a wild deer had just started grazing from his hand, unsure what to do. He had to admit her hand felt nice, soft and cool on his. He wouldn't have minded sitting like that all night; in fact, he found himself wondering if this was the point where he should put his arm around her.
Maybe it was his complete unfamiliarity with anything romantic, or with any sort of human contact at all for that matter, but almost before he realized it he found himself standing, gently pulling his hand away. “We arrived late and the sun will rise soon,” he said in a soft voice. “You should get some sleep while you still can.”
Kristy nodded and stood as well. As she quietly made her way to the door leading back inside he thought he saw tears glimmering in her eyes.
Fantastic, he'd made her cry. That about summed up his skill dealing with women.
Tom stared at the door she'd disappeared through for a minute, until a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over him, reminding him that he was beyond exhausted and more than ready to take his own advice about getting some sleep.
With a weary groan he climbed into the cab of the truck, digging his bedroll out of his pack and laying it across the long padded seat with his back propped up against the driver's side door.
In the morning he'd have a final handshake with Gray and the Mayor and sell this bad boy for a fortune. Enough to buy him a new horse and then some, even after splitting the proceeds with everyone from the convoy to help them start their new lives. Tack on a pretty hefty bit extra for selling the guns he'd taken from those two bandits during the attack on the convoy and he'd be sitting on a comfortable nest egg going forward.
Then he could get some supplies and start for Emery, be there in plenty of time to spend some time up at his hideout in the high mountains before the cold drove him down to his winter lodge. And he supposed he'd be able to afford a Geiger co
unter and a proper hazmat suit so he could check out Miles Graham's cache and see if it was safe to take.
That fortune would make anything he got from selling the truck seem like chump change in comparison; bad as things had looked in Texas they were looking up now. He'd have his horse and be back home where things could get back to normal. And he'd be better off than he'd ever been.
But he didn't feel any anticipation at the thought as he stared out the windshield at the door Kristy had disappeared through, feeling a leaden weight in his gut.
Back to normal sounded depressingly lonely.
His treacherous mind conjured up images of his winter lodge decorated with the flaxen-haired woman's personal touches. Of showing them both all the breathtaking views and secluded wonders he'd found in his stomping grounds from one end of the Manti-La Sal range to the other. Of making his rounds through the mountains with Skyler at his side, teaching the boy how to set traps and fish and find edible plants, and when he was older how to shoot properly so he didn't have to rely on insane courage and dumb luck to defend his mother.
Of holding Kristy in his arms as they sat atop the cliff above his lodge, looking out at the valley below and the mountain slopes around them. Watching the shadow of the setting sun march away from them and up the far slope.
Tom shook his head to banish the foolish fantasy. Kristy didn't want that life, she'd made that pretty clear when he described it to her and she immediately started trying to convince him to settle down in a town instead. And it wouldn't be good for Skyler, either, with no other children to play with or people to talk to. Not to mention that once the kid grew up, Tom knew as well as anyone just how hard it was for someone living that life to find a wife.
After all, he was so desperate he was already ringing the wedding bells for a woman who'd turned on him the moment things went south, and who'd looked at him with barely concealed disgust at first. Who likely would again at the barest hint of a romantic vibe between them. She may respect him now, maybe even like him, but that didn't mean she felt anything for him.
Who did he think he was kidding?
With a growl Tom shifted around to a more comfortable position facing the other way, focusing on letting his exhaustion pull him down into some much needed sleep.
It took a while.
Chapter Nineteen
Leaving
By the time Kristy woke up the next morning most people in the convoy were up, although just about everyone seemed content to stay abed or at least in the warehouses, resting and decompressing from their ordeal in Newpost and the arduous drive here.
When she checked their possessions from the wagon she discovered that even Tom, who she was sure had gone to sleep after her, was already up and about. According to Bob the mountain man had retrieved the guns he'd taken from the bandits he killed during the attack on the convoy, planning to sell them.
“We might think about doing the same,” Vicky said, looking over the two AK-47s and the 9mm Kristy had taken from the soldiers who'd attacked her and Skyler a couple nights ago. “These will probably sell for easily enough to get us back to Utah.”
“We do need supplies,” Bob agreed. He sounded reluctant though, obviously not pleased at the idea of giving up their weapons under the circumstances; Kristy had given the man one of the rifles so he could protect his family in case they ran into more trouble, and saved the other one for herself and Skyler, who she intended to gift the weapon to once he was old enough.
Just like she'd promised him.
After what they'd been through Kristy was also more inclined to keep the guns. “Maybe we can find some other way besides giving those up,” she suggested. “I've still got the leftover silver from the supplies we bought here ages ago, that'll help. And if Tom's selling the other guns anyway he might front us for the rest of what we need. Or I suppose we don't really need the pistol as much, and maybe we can also sell some of the ammo and spare magazines for the AKs.”
As it turned out, the problem solved itself before they could really stress on it.
Bob, Kristy, and Skyler had left Vicky and Lisa in the care of friends in the convoy so they could go see about getting supplies. Kristy and Bob were both unhappy about the necessity of leaving the traumatized mother and daughter, but agreed there wasn't much choice if they wanted to take care of the necessary business.
Especially since they were all unanimously in favor of leaving as soon as reasonably possible. Maybe even tomorrow morning if Vicky was feeling up to it; either way the poor woman certainly couldn't join them on their trip into the city, since she wasn't up to being out among crowds of strangers yet.
So the three headed to the business section to inquire about pricing for the stuff they were willing to sell. But before they'd gone more than twenty feet from the warehouse Sheriff Gray showed up with a couple of his deputies.
The man made a beeline for them, shaking Bob's and Kristy's hands, then solemnly leaning down to shake Skyler's. “Sirs, ma'am. Sorry to flag you down like this, but I wanted to catch you before you wandered off.” At their concerned looks he grinned. “With good news, I promise. But first off how are you holding up?”
“We're doing all right, thank you Sheriff,” Kristy said. “And thank you, the whole town, for taking us in.”
Gray shrugged. “Well from the sounds of it we're being invaded. Now's the time we all need to pull together.” His tone abruptly became brisk, and he reached into his coat. “This morning Tom Miller sold the trucks and remaining fuel to the city of Grand Junction. He insisted on dividing the proceeds evenly between everyone in the convoy, so before he left he asked me to go around and give you all your fair share.”
With that the man drew out three one-ounce gold coin halves and, with proper ceremony, handed one each to her, Bob, and even Skyler.
Dazed, Kristy looked down at her son, who was staring at the wealth sitting on his open palm with huge eyes. Then she shifted her disbelieving gaze back to the sheriff. If they were each getting half an ounce of gold that meant Tom had to have sold the trucks for around thirty. That was a staggering fortune, enough that each individual person was modestly wealthy in their own right from it.
Tom could've easily claimed it all for himself and walked away from this a disgustingly rich man, but instead he'd made sure that they all had what they needed to at least make a start at rebuilding their lives.
Tears welled in her eyes as she looked down at the coin in her own hand, probably about as much she would've made from selling all three guns and all the ammo and gear for them. And that wasn't counting Skyler's share. And Bob, Vicky, and Lisa would all have the same.
This changed everything.
Then the sheriff's words registered, his casual “before he left” hitting her like a bucket of ice water. “Tom's gone?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.
The man nodded. “Had his pack with him and the look of a man ready to hit the road.” He tipped his hat to her and nodded at Bob and Skyler. “Well, I should track down the rest of your people and see they all get their share. Ma'am, gents, you all take care now.”
Kristy stared after him as he walked away, not even thinking to tuck the wealth away from prying eyes. Tom had left? Without a word? Without even saying goodbye? Without ever giving her a chance to properly make things right, to prove to him how sorry she was, and how grateful, and . . .
And let him know how she felt about him.
She drew a ragged breath and turned to Skyler. Her son was looking up at her forlornly, his expression confused and hurt, even betrayed. He looked like she felt. “He just went?” he asked in a small voice. “Without even talking to us first?”
Kristy pulled her son to her comfortingly. “It looks that way, honey.” She finally thought to tuck the gold into the purse in her pocket, taking her son's share to hide away as well.
Skyler barely noticed, tears glimmering in his eyes. “But he was going to teach me how to fish. And how to make and set traps. And he never g
ot a chance to show me what cougar tracks looked like.”
She thought of her own thoughts of a future with Tom Miller, the ones she'd kept on trying to laugh off as ludicrous fantasies during the trip to Newpost. Dressed in a buckskin outfit like him, although hopefully a more flattering one. Hand in hand with him and Skyler hiking mountain trails, gathering wild berries, swimming in hidden lakes and ponds. Standing beside him on a high peak looking down at the world below. Watching the sun set over the mountains with him.
And he'd walked away without so much as a word.
Well, to be fair she supposed she'd betrayed him first. Apparently he hadn't been willing to forgive her after all.
Kristy gently took her son's hand, leading him towards the warehouse and nodding back to Bob, who'd kept a sympathetic distance while they processed the news. “Come on, let's go watch Vicky and Lisa's faces when they get their share from the trucks.”
For the next few hours they celebrated their good fortune with the rest of the convoy, both their freedom from the invading soldiers and the unlooked for assistance in starting their new lives. All the while Kristy found herself glancing at the doors, half expecting the mountain man walk through at any moment.
He never did.
Finally they reluctantly headed out again to look at purchasing supplies. With their new fortunes they didn't need to sell the guns after all, and at the last minute Bob decided to stay back with his wife, especially when Kristy assured him she could take care of purchasing what they needed.
To be honest she figured it would be a welcome distraction from her gloom about Tom vanishing on her.
So she and her son headed towards the business district and began browsing shops, her mood growing more and more despondent as she contemplated the coming trip without Tom's familiar presence. She could tell Skyler was thinking along similar lines when he wanted to stop at a street vendor who was grilling various meats and vegetables, and what her son was most excited about was the nopal.