Boondocks

Chapter 27: Mother Russia

FERN

Tex learned about Black Raven Pirate Adventures from a brochure he'd found on one of the raids. He kept it folded around the map stuffed inside his jacket pocket. I'd gotten a glimpse of the front while he was showing some of the men, and the ship he wanted to steal was straight out of a fairy tale: dark black paint, red trim, and skull-printed sails. I had no idea how we could steal something that large and noticeable, but Tex talked about it like we'd already succeeded.

The plan was to park Lucille and float the other boat, Betty, as far as the trees offered cover. That left half a mile on foot for those chosen to attend. Willow and the children would stay behind with the injured and a handful of men, while the rest of us would divide into three groups: the lookouts, the boarders, and Croc with his gators in the water. When Tex declared who would make up these groups, my name came out without so much as a glance in my direction. No acknowledgement. No question.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, I wanted to go. I wanted to help. It felt like something I needed to do, for Daddy and Mama and John. For Julia. I had no objections to going wherever was necessary, but to not be asked, after we hadn't spoken in almost two weeks... Was that me now? Just another pawn in his army?

Daddy's voice echoed, warning me to stay away from the barn. To stay separate. This was no different than then. They were good people, and I was helping. That didn't mean I wanted to integrate myself into their group and risk being broken by loss later. I'd forgotten, but Julia's death and Tex's distance were more than enough to remind me.

"Grab your bow, Darlin'," Tex said.

I jolted. We'd been parked for hours, waiting for the night to deepen, and it was the first time I'd heard him acknowledge me directly since we'd fled. I picked up my bow and slid it over my shoulder; my arrows already rested on the other side.

He extended a hand, but I pulled myself to my feet without it. I wanted to take it, to feel his palm against mine and know he was still there, somewhere inside this man he'd become. But that part of us was over. Whatever had started had been brought to a jarring halt, and it felt far too much like running out of rabbits or not being able to start a fire. I'd die if I didn't eat. I'd freeze without warmth. I needed those things, and, without realizing it, I'd grown just as dependent on spending time with him.

He lowered his hand and studied my face. "You're angry with me."

I shook my head. "Not angry. I just don't think we should get too close." I focused on the shadow of trees across the river. It was the right thing to say. It was what Daddy would have advised, but that didn't make it easy. Tex wasn't some smelly barn full of all the worst chores. He was the field and the creek and all the places I'd felt the freest. I wanted to go there, regardless if it was good for me.

"I see." He leaned against the rail and crossed his arms. "I suppose I deserve that for neglecting you...after everything."

"It's not a big deal." I waved a hand as if the tension between us were smoke I could fan away. No matter the reason he'd ignored me, whether it be his loss, his way of coping, or something else, I had his full attention now. His gaze seared me, read me, and I was exposed. Could he hear the words I'd never say? See the feelings I couldn't allow myself to express? It had meant more. It was my first kiss. It was supposed to mean something; I just hadn't anticipated the attachment I would form. "It was just an experience, Tex. I never meant for it to be anything else."

He flinched, just like he had when I'd treated his wound, and I immediately regretted saying it. I hadn't meant to be so callous.

"It was perfect," I added. "Honestly. I'm thankful to have... had that. I didn't think I ever would."