Lynn dug her fingers into Stebbs’ coat, her voice a harsh whisper. “It’s not the cholera, is it?”
“No, she always does this,” Neva said, peeling off a layer of warm sleeping clothes from Lucy. “You can’t just get a little fever, can you, baby? You’ve got to go big.” Tears were still sliding down her face, but Neva was moving with purpose. She looked up at her audience. “Move! I need a cold, wet cloth—now. And a thermometer, if you have one.”
Neva’s conviction broke Lynn’s stillness. She shot up the stairs with Eli on her heels. “There’s some washcloths in the bathroom,” she called over her shoulder. “Use the clean water downstairs in the tank.”
“Where are you going?”
“Thermometer,” she answered without bothering to explain why she was running up the staircase. Mother had squirreled away all of Lynn’s baby clothes, blankets, bottles, and—she hoped—baby thermometer as well. She burst into the attic, throwing open lids to steamer trunks and tossing clothes in the air in a frantic search. The objecting screech of a baby toy told her she’d found the right trunk, and Lynn dug to the bottom, overwhelmed with relief at the sight of the plastic thermometer.
“Please work,” she said to it, and the digital screen lit up at her touch.
Her heart was beating so hard, she almost didn’t hear the footsteps on the roof. Lynn instinctively dropped down, hand clutched protectively around the thermometer. For a moment there was nothing, only the sound of her own blood pumping through her veins. Then she heard it again.
Someone was on her roof.
Seventeen
She crept down the staircase quietly, dodging the patches of late afternoon light in the living room and slinking into the kitchen. Eli was already downstairs; she could hear his muted voice in conversation with Neva, her tone pitched high with concern. Lynn edged down the steps, handed the thermometer silently to Neva and reached past Eli for her handgun.
“There’s someone outside,” she whispered to him. He tensed but didn’t look away from the cot where Lucy lay, her arm dangling over the side. Neva had to hold her jaw shut to use the thermometer; Lucy was too weak to close her own mouth.
“Where?”
“On the roof, for sure. I’m betting more,” Lynn answered quietly, but with her eyes on Stebbs. He noticed and joined their group at the foot of the stairs.
“What?”
“Men on the roof,” Eli said, his voice pitched low to not alarm Neva. “What do we do?”
“Not much we can do. They already have higher ground. You run out there firing and they’ll pick you off.”
“Only if he’s a good shot,” Lynn countered.
“Assume he is. Put down the gun.”
She didn’t move. “They’re not taking my house.”
“I’m guessing they don’t want it,” Stebbs said evenly. “They didn’t meet any resistance coming in. They have the advantage but aren’t pressing it.”
“So what do they want?” Eli asked.
“We go find out.” Stebbs gave Lynn a hard look and peeled her fingers off the gun. “You going to keep your head on straight?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Don’t look like it. You go out first, keep your hands up where they can see them. I’ll follow her, and Eli you come last. Be calm, no reason to upset Neva just yet.”
Lynn glanced back at the cot before leaving. Water from the cloth on her forehead was streaming down Lucy’s face, matching the tears on Neva’s. “Hold on, kiddo,” she said quietly. “We’ll be right back.”
She climbed the stairs stiffly, every nerve in her body protesting the absence of her gun. The door creaked open and she walked into the sunlight, both hands open and visible. Three armed men stood in the yard, a woman kneeling in the mud in front of them, a noose around her neck. Lynn walked forward cautiously, highly conscious of the man on the roof and the prickle of hairs on her neck telling her that his crosshairs were focused there.
“Get off my roof,” she said.
One of the men spat on the ground and smiled at her, showing off gaps in his teeth. “That the way you greet your neighbors?”
“Neighbors that drag a woman around by her neck, yes.”
“Lynn,” Stebbs said quietly in warning as he stepped from the doorway. Eli emerged behind him, his hands held up as well. His eyes were on Lynn, a mute entreaty to keep her mouth shut, until he spotted the woman.
“Vera!”
She jerked at the sound of her name, raising her head and allowing Lynn a good look. She didn’t need Eli to tell her this was Neva’s mother. Her black hair was streaked with gray, the lines in her face were delicate and flattering, a perfect image of what Neva would look like in the future. Except that the light flashing in her eyes was fierce, the determination to live imprinted clearly.
“You got nothing to say to her just yet,” Gap Tooth said to Eli. “I’m the one talking right now.”