Lovely Wild Read online

His wife gave him a steady stare. “And if he’s not, it would hardly be the first time I’ve cleaned up dog shit. Would it?”

  All at once he wanted to hold her. Pull her next to him, close his eyes, breathe in the scent of her hair. He wanted to back up time and forget he’d ever thought about bringing her back here. They could find a way to make ends meet without this book. He could put all the files and folders away and take his family away from this place.

  But then when she turned and spoke to the dog, making a subtle, barely there set of motions with her hands at the same time, Ryan knew he wasn’t going to.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  MARI’S HAND HURT. Punctured, holes seeping green goo tinged with blood. When her fingers clenched, sharp, fierce pain stabbed all through her, making her feel like she was going to fall down.

  The dog had bit her. She’d reached for something in its bowl, and it had snapped, snarling. Growling. Mari had won the battle for the hunk of chicken on the bone Gran had put in there, always the dogs had food though many times Mari was forgotten. The dogs fought among themselves. Mari fought the dogs when she had to.

  “Be quiet,” Gran had said. “Hide.”

  Them had come, pounding feet on the floor. Loud voices. Gran fought Them the way Mari and the dogs fight. Gran won’t leave this house. Gran won’t take Their medicine, though she’ll eat the food They leave her. Gran won’t let Them help her change her clothes, goddammit, this is her place, They should get out.

  Get out!

  Get out!

  Mari hid, and later when Them had gone, there was another voice. Another person. Nice hands, washing her face and cleaning her hands, the sore spots. Wrapping them in bandages. Giving her water, cold water. Mariposa is so hot she is going to fly away.

  “Stay with me, little butterfly,” the voice says. It is soft, gentle, the voice of her protector.

  Her forest prince comes to her from the woods. When Mari opens her eyes, he is there. Making everything better.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  “SURE, IT COULDA been a fox.” Rosie looked over the dirt in the yard.

  The chickens had scuffed it up, covering the blood, but Kendra couldn’t forget that it was there. Ethan had snagged the single raggedy feather from the peacock’s tail, but Daddy had told him not to take it in the house. He said it was bad luck.

  “What?” Rosie laughed at this when Kendra told her. “Bad luck? Is that what he thinks causes it?”

  Kendra shrugged and kicked at the dirt with the toe of her Chucks. “Dunno. He just told him not to take it in the house.”

  Ethan had hung it up in the barn, instead. Now he walked slowly behind one of the fluffy chickens and waited until it squatted before he picked it up. He held it in one arm while he petted its head. The chicken clucked, and the monkeybrat laughed. Rosie laughed, too, as she scattered some feed for them. Kendra felt for the comforting weight of her phone in her pocket before remembering she’d lost it.

  “If it wasn’t a fox, what do you think it was?” Kendra asked.

  Rosie turned to look at her. “I didn’t say it wasn’t. Foxes kill chickens. Your dog might kill ’em, too, you’re not careful.”

  “Chompsky won’t,” Ethan said.

  Hearing his name, the dog let out a single, sharp bark. His tail swept the dirt back and forth. Kendra bent to scratch his head. “Chompsky doesn’t even chase chickens.”

  Rosie snorted. “Dogs’ll do what they do. Just like men.”

  Ethan had already put down the chicken he’d been holding and was now after another one. He hadn’t heard what Rosie said, or if he had, didn’t care. Kendra did, though.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t ever heard women diss on dudes before. Sammy did it all the time. But Kendra was kind of partial to guys even if they could be jerks and not reply to text messages.

  “Oh, you could ask your mama that question. She’d know better than me, I guess.” Rosie chuckled.

  “Don’t you have a husband?”

  Rosie shot Kendra a sideways look. “He died. Cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.” She really didn’t care, but it seemed like the polite thing to say.

  “I ain’t,” Rosie said. She straightened as the chickens pecked around her feet. She kicked out, just a little, to shoo them away. She put her hands on the hips of her overalls. She clucked, imitating the chickens.

  “Kendra! Ethan!”

  Kendra turned to see her mom on the front porch. She waved, catching her mother’s eye. Mom shaded her eyes, then came across the driveway and around the side of the barn.

  “Hi, Rosie. Kiki, where’s Ethan? I told him to clean up his room.”

  “He’s chasing chickens.” Kendra had cleaned her room before coming out, not because she was into cleaning but because she hardly had anything here that needed putting away. And without her phone, hardly anything to do.

  Her mom sighed. “Hi, Rosie. We’re going to be grilling burgers for dinner. Would you like to stay?”

  Rosie looked surprised. “For dinner?”

  Her mom’s smile always made Kendra feel like everything was okay, no matter what else was going on. Rosie seemed more taken aback than warmed. The old lady shrugged.

  Mom gestured. “I made potato salad. Corn on the cob, too. And biscuits. There’ll be plenty of food.”

  “You’ll have enough to feed an army.”

  “You’re welcome to join us,” Mom said. “Kiki, go tell Ethan he’d better get his butt inside and clean up his room, or I’m going to have to get angry.”

  “Children need discipline,” Rosie said.

  Mom looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Of course they do.”

  Rosie snorted. Kendra didn’t need to stick around for more of that conversation—in fact, as much as she might’ve been interested in hearing the monkeybrat get in trouble any other time, she didn’t really want him to get yelled at in front of Rosie. She found him in the barn, looking at the feather he’d hung on the wall.

  “Mom said you’d better clean your room, or you’re gonna get in trouble.”

  “I’m sad about the peacock, Kiki. I don’t think a fox killed it.”

  “What else would? Besides, what difference does it make if it was a fox or a raccoon or a coyote? It’s dead,” Kendra said flatly.

  “Maybe that thing in the forest. The one that lives in that little house.”

  “That’s not a thing,” Kendra said, feeling proud of herself for believing it. “It’s some hillbilly dude. C’mon. You need to clean your room so Mom doesn’t get mad.”

  Ethan sighed and scowled, then stomped off away from her without saying anything else. Outside, around the back of the house, Rosie sat at the splintery picnic table where Mom had already put out paper plates, napkins and cups. Also the bowl of potato salad and a pitcher of lemonade.

  “Where’s my mom?” Kendra asked.

  “Getting the meat, I guess.” Rosie pointed toward the house.

  “I guess I should help her.” But the back door was locked, and when she knocked, her dad took forever to open it.

  When he did, he didn’t look happy. “Kendra. What?”

  She made to push past him. “I have to help mom with the burgers.”

  “Go around.”

  She stopped, incredulous. “Huh?”

  “This is my office, Kendra, not a highway. Go around. I’m working.”

  Her mom appeared around the side of the house with a platter of meat patties. “Ryan, relax. Kiki, come help me. Ryan, can you please get the grill started?”

  She took the platter from her mom while her dad closed the door without a word. Kendra gave her mom a scowl.

  “So we still have to walk all the way around, even though the kitchen is literally right through there?”

  Mom sighed. “He’s busy, Kiki.”

  The next minute the door opened again. Her dad came out and shut the door heavily behind him. He did a double take at the sight of Rosie, then gave Mom a squeeze.