“That’d be okay.”
“Like I was sayin’, I don’t have a resume. I didn’t know until Dom came to my house that I was going to talk to you. I’m working at the 7 Eleven now. Night shift. I been—have been—doing that since Mr. Roark closed up his business—he’s the CPA.”
“Night shift with a little girl can’t be easy.”
“No. But my mom helps. We get by. And the money is a little better on third shift.” Again, she dropped her eyes. “Can I—would it be wrong to ask what this job pays? I don’t mean to sound like I think I’ll get it or anything. I was just wonderin’. Wondering.”
“It’s appropriate to ask, Bree. Don’t be embarrassed. I was going to put the range in the job ad I’m writing.”
“Oh. You’re just now writing the ad? I’m sorry. I didn’t know you weren’t hiring yet.”
“We’ll open as soon as we get a staff, so I’m hiring. Dom just knew about the job a little earlier than most people. You’re benefitting from knowing him by getting an interview early. That’s called networking. As for what the job pays...” Tasha had a range in mind; she’d done a lot of research and had figured out a good starting point for the least experienced acceptable hire and a top point for an ideal hire. Bree was hardly an ideal hire—at least not in the way Tasha had been defining that term. But in other ways, maybe she was. So Tasha took a quick moment to think and then quoted Bree a number right in the middle of her range.
Bree’s eyes went wide. “Really? Oh. Oh, my goodness.” She said nothing more.
“Sit tight for a second. I’ll be right back.” Bree didn’t have a resume, but Tasha had a pad of generic applications—they’d been part of a package of small-business start-up supplies the office supply warehouse in Springfield had been offering as a promotion. She went out to the reception desk and pulled the pad from a drawer, tore one off, and took it back to her office.
“Why don’t you fill this out. I need to check a couple of things first, but if everything checks out, then I think you could start as my receptionist and assistant when we open—hopefully that will be in no more than two weeks.”
“Really? Oh. Oh, that would be great. That gives me time to put my notice in, and—” Her enthusiasm came up short, and she looked embarrassed again. “Um…does this job come with insurance?”
“Yes. Medical, dental, and life.”
And Bree’s eyes welled up. “I am going to do so good, Dr. Tasha. So well, I mean. I promise. I promise. Thank you. Thank you.”
Tasha felt good. Nervous, but good. “Okay. Well, fill out that app and leave it with me, and I’ll call you if everything checks out—which I expect it will.” Dom wouldn’t bring somebody here who had some hinky secret, if only because Isaac would beat the shit out of him if he did. Len, too.
She had an employee. Now to find an open-minded nurse. On that, she couldn’t fudge the experience, and there were no nurses living in Signal Bend.
~oOo~
Tasha remembered town hall meetings in Signal Bend from when she was a kid; the Horde had always made a presence at them. And as she sat between Len and Shannon near the front of the hall, she smiled at how little things had changed in all the years she’d been away. These meetings were very much like the Sunday potlucks at St. John’s church—basically the same crowd, and the women all brought basically the same food, which was arrayed on long tables at the back of the room. Once the business portion of the meeting was over, the social portion would take over.
The council only met in open session once a month, meeting privately otherwise, so meetings in the town hall were always well attended. But this one, by the time the council was seated, was standing-room only. Tasha was surprised, and, looking at the faces of her family as they watched the room fill, she knew that this was an unusually large crowd. Len and Show exchanged a glance; Isaac exchanged glances with both of them. They were worried.
So Tasha was, too. Especially since she was on the docket.
When the meeting was called to order, Lilli sitting at the council table between Evelyn Sweet and Don Keyes, everything started off without drama. Minutes from the last meeting were approved. The agenda was approved. Mayor Fosse made a series of announcements, one of which was that Dr. Natasha Westby’s office would be opening soon and was seeking patients. The mayor made that announcement enthusiastically, and waxed on for a minute about how desperately the town had needed a doctor. He met Tasha’s eyes and smiled. She smiled back; it was nice to hear that she was doing something good.
Things started to go wrong at Open Forum, and they went wrong right away. The mayor opened the floor, and people stood immediately, and continued to do so even as others began to speak in turn.
They all spoke about the Horde. At first the people who spoke did so to complain and malign—they spoke about Brad Jordan and Tim Breuer, the young men who’d died when the Perros had overrun the clubhouse. They talked about Sophie Mariano. They talked about the Horde who had died or disappeared over the past few years. They talked about the fighting at Tuck’s. And they talked about the power the Horde wielded over the town. The more people spoke, the more reasons they found to take issue with the Horde. Tasha didn’t recognize a lot of the people who stood and took the floor, but she’d been away a long time. The Horde were called thugs, criminals, drug dealers, bullies. Eventually, somebody brought up Tasha’s practice and her link to the Horde. Her heart dropped into her stomach.
But people stood and took up the Horde’s side, too. Marie Bakke. Tuck Olsen. The Reverend Mortensen. Others whom Tasha didn’t know, who had stories about being helped in one way or another by the men of the Horde. Somebody spoke about the library, and how it wouldn’t be open if not for them. Those with longer memories talked about how the club had kept the town going when the rest of the world had wandered off to let it die.
It went on and on for nearly an hour. By the time Mayor Fosse cut off discussion, it wasn’t discussion any longer, it was argument, and it was heading toward something hotter. People had started to shout. On both sides, they felt strongly. But Tasha thought that the people who’d come to complain had clearly dominated the debate.
Not one Horde had stood. Tasha had looked over at Isaac again and again, expecting him to react in some way, to stand and defend the club, the family, he led. But he didn’t. He sat and stared at Lilli, who stared right back at him.
When the mayor closed discussion, Isaac’s eyes shifted to him. Mayor Fosse nodded and said, “We spent a lot of time on this, and it’s important. But I want to end this discussion by hearing from the Horde. Isaac, why don’t you respond to what you’ve heard tonight?”
Isaac nodded and stood. He walked to the low dais on which the council table sat and turned around, leaning his ass on the railing. He extended his legs and crossed them at the ankle, his scuffed black boots resting on one heel, and crossed his arms over his chest. He was the picture of ease—until one saw his eyes, flashing dark green glints of anger.
He cleared his throat. “Big crowd tonight. Lot of people I haven’t seen here before. I’m here at every meeting. Always have been—except when I was away, gettin’ well. I noticed while I was listening to what people had to say that a lot of new people spoke up. People who haven’t lived here long, who probably don’t know our history much.
“I love this town. All the Horde do. Most of us were born here and never lived anywhere else. It’s good to see it gettin’ new life. People movin’ in, new businesses”—he glanced at Tasha with a smile—“a great doctor. All good things. But I guess those of us who’ve been here all our lives don’t think enough about what new people don’t know.
“This town was dyin’. Not so long ago. To this day, we’re still forgotten by most everybody else. They looked over and saw us for a minute a couple of years ago, but then they went back to their lives and forgot us again. Takes half an hour or better to get an ambulance. Sheriff’s department doesn’t give a damn about anything out here. We can’t even get cable or some o
f that fancy new cell service out here. We are too far out for most people to bother.
“We’re makin’ a place for ourselves with that, bein’ a town for people to ‘get away from it all’. My wife, Lilli, opened the bed and breakfast a few years ago, and that pulls in a steady trade—for everybody. For the shops and the restaurants, not just for the B&B.”
Somebody in the crowd—Tasha didn’t see who; he didn’t stand—yelled out “Nobody’s gonna stay in the B&B if they think they’re gonna get shot at.”
Isaac pushed off the railing and took a couple of steps toward the gallery. “You want to stand, friend, so we can have a conversation?”
No one stood. Some heads turned toward the back on the right side of the gallery, but no one stood—or spoke more.
After letting the awkward silence extend a bit, Isaac smiled sadly and then went on. “What happened to Brad and Tim was terrible. A great loss. Young men with the future wide open in front of them.” He scanned the room. Tasha followed his eyes and saw them light on Tim Breuer’s parents. He bowed his head, and Mr. Breuer stared back. But after that hesitation, he nodded.
“We’ve always been around if you wanted to talk, or if you needed to ask for help. We’ve never turned away an honest need. And we take care. We always have. We had to make a devil’s bargain several years back, when things in town were goin’ downhill fast. We didn’t make that bargain on our own. We talked to the town. We made it to save us all from what was happenin’. And we made it together. That brought us into contact with some bad people. I won’t duck from that. But I will say is that anybody complainin’ about what the Horde does has a short damn memory. You’re forgetting—or maybe you just don’t know—what the Horde has risked for this town. What we have lost for this town. What we have done for this town. Ain’t a one of us gettin’ rich off what we have to do. Because we’re putting it into the town. The library. Valhalla Vin. The roof on the diner. The repairs to the Main Street Marketplace after the boys had their wilding night in the summer. Countless other ways we’ve helped most of you in here. Now we’re opening a medical practice, so people don’t have to drive a fu—an hour to see a doctor. So we can be well.
“You got a complaint, a grievance, a problem, a need? We’re here. Always have been. I know we’ve had a couple of real bad days on this score, but the streets of Signal Bend are safer than they are elsewhere, and I’m gonna go ahead and claim credit for the Horde for that. Not one person in town got hooked on meth when it was in town. Nobody steals from anybody. We don’t do harm. We help each other. We stand together. We’re not like other towns. Hell, we might not be like anyplace anywhere. The world moved on without us, but we stand together. It comes with a cost, yeah. No doubt. But the Horde pays the lion’s share of that, too. We’re the front line. We’ve lost more than anyone. And we feel it. Every day. But we’re still standin’ on that front line.” Isaac stopped and took a deep breath. He slowly looked across the gallery, from one side to the other. “And that’s all I got to say.” He strode back to his seat among his club.
The hall was quiet, little more than the vague rustling of bodies shifting uncomfortably. Tasha realized that her hand hurt. She looked down at it; Len had it in an iron grip, the scars on his knuckles gone white.
She turned to see his face. She was on his good side, so she met his eye easily. “We’re okay,” he murmured. “We’re okay.”
Tasha wasn’t sure even he believed that.
~oOo~
A week later, Tasha pulled into the lot at Marie’s. The day was sunny and bright, the sky a clear blue—the kind of January day that looked for all the world like it should be warm and tricked you into thinking spring was coming early. In truth, the temperature was well below freezing, but Tasha still felt pretty good.
Isaac’s speech at the town meeting seemed to have alleviated the looming threat if not entirely eased the tension. No one had rebutted what he’d said. The mayor had let people squirm in their seats for a few minutes, and then he’d resumed the meeting, the rest of which had mostly been boring—except for the part where they finalized Tasha’s town business permits. She’d held her breath, waiting for somebody to protest, but no one had. She was officially in business.
And she had a full staff. Full enough, anyway. She’d hired another local woman for the office work: Lenora Dahl, an older woman, a recent widow who was having trouble making ends meet. She only wanted to work part time, but that worked out okay for Tasha and Bree. Bree had started right away, helping Tasha get everything set up, and she was turning out to be as smart as she’d advertised. She was studying up on her own time, too. Tasha figured it would be a matter of weeks before Bree understood the business end of this venture better than she did.
As the sweet, round cherry on the cake of her day, this morning Tasha had gotten a call from a nurse she’d worked with at County. Pattie had seen Tasha’s job posting and was interested. They’d talked for an hour. Pattie knew about the Horde and had more than once helped her cover something up—changing a notation in a chart, erasing the admittance record of a patient, looking the other way again and again. Pattie’s husband was in prison; Tasha didn’t know all the details, but she did know that Pattie understood a certain kind of man, a certain kind of life. And she was interested in making a change out of the ER.
Tasha was fairly sure that she’d just found her nurse.
So she walked into Marie’s feeling good, even if she was nervous about this lunch. It had been Marie’s idea—all the old ladies and their kids having lunch together, showing the town the lighter side of the Horde. Marie’s sales pitch to Lilli, Shannon, and Tasha as they’d been standing in a cluster after the town meeting had been, “All you pretty girls with your pretty babies, bein’ normal and just pretty. Remind people around here that the club is more than big, scary men in leather.”
Lilli and Shannon had agreed right away that it was a good idea; Tasha had been more reserved. But it was happening, and even Cory had been convinced to join them and bring Loki. Shannon’s girl, Adrienne—everybody called her Shannon’s girl, not Shannon’s daughter, which Tasha didn’t quite understand—was in town, too, for her birthday. They had a full complement of pretty women with pretty children.
They were so many that they took up two booths, one across from the other. But it was a good lunch. People didn’t stare with that slight cast of fretful hostility that Tasha had been seeing lately. Instead, they smiled at Gia and Bo coloring on their placemats and showing Auntie Marie their creations. They peeked in on little Loki, who was perfectly content to be passed around from lap to lap. He was almost six months old now, sitting up and smiling, his father’s dark brown eyes bright and happy. He did not know what he’d lost.
Adrienne was a pretty young woman, nearly a picture of Shannon, but with curlier hair, and small and slim where Shannon was tall and voluptuous. Tasha wondered about their story. She knew that Shannon had given Adrienne up for adoption and that they had reunited a few years ago. Tasha had not met Adrienne until this lunch. She didn’t visit often. Still, she and Shannon seemed very easy with each other. Friendly.
Adrienne held up much more than her share of the conversation, chatting about her recent time in Asia, where she’d gone after college to teach English. She and Tasha compared travel notes. She seemed to be a free spirit, the kind of girl who’d run off to travel the world all on her own. Tasha liked her, right off the bat.
Lilli asked Adrienne, “Are you planning to see Badger while you’re in town?”
For the first time, the sweet smile left Adrienne’s freckled face. “I hope so. I mean, it would be weird if I didn’t at least see him. Not that big a town. But I haven’t talked to him much lately. Not at all since before Christmas.” She shrugged. “It’s cool. If he’s wrapped up in something or somebody. We’re just friends. Not like he’d be breaking my heart or anything.”
Tasha had never met Adrienne before, but that didn’t seem especially convincing to her. She wondered how m
uch Adrienne knew about the club. Probably not much. But Shannon changed to the safer subject of the coming wedding season at the B&B, and, the moment over, Adrienne picked up her smile again.
Cory was quiet but engaged, trying on a smile of her own every now and then. Except for Loki—when she looked at Loki, she didn’t have to try on a smile. It was there at the ready, and Tasha felt like she was going to be all right. She was taking strength and peace from the child she and Havoc had made together, and that was as it should be.
She didn’t try to hide her scarred wrists. Tasha admired that.
It was Shannon who worried her a little. Normally, Shannon was extroverted and talkative. She was something of a cruise director whenever a group gathered. But she was quieter than usual, and she was picking at her food rather than eating it.
Finally, after watching her surreptitiously for a while, Tasha leaned over and asked, quietly, “Are you feeling okay?”
Shannon smiled. “Um, yeah. A little tired. I think I’ll come see you when you open.”
“Of course. Any other symptoms?”
Her smile widened a little. “Actually, I don’t need a diagnosis. I know what it is.”
Tasha cocked her head, confused.
“You remember that thing I asked you about, that…that night?”
Her head still cocked, Tasha thought back. When she had it, her eyes went wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’ve been trying this whole time, but it finally worked. I did the test right before I left for lunch. Only Ade knows. Show doesn’t even know yet. Tash, I’m scared, though.”
“We’ll talk, and I’ll put you in touch with the best obstetrician in the state. Actually, Lilli sees her, too.”
“What are you two whispering about, and why did I just hear my name?” Lilli grinned at them, but clearly expected an answer. Shannon gave Tasha a nervous grin and shrugged.
“Tasha was just telling me that you have the best obstetrician in the state.”
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