“They were coming after Jenna. They said there was reward money.”
“There was never any money.”
“They were pretty sure there was.”
“It don’t matter now anyway,” Shelton said. “Kayla thinks I took her and blames the whole thing on me.”
“She’s the mother,” I said. “She should not have been passed out like that in the first place.”
“I woke up and she was gone. At first I thought she fell out the window and was buried by the snow. I was so sick I thought I would die.”
“We’re running out of time,” I said. “That fever needs to come down.”
“I almost shot Little Hector,” Shelton said. “Can you believe that? Then I did shoot Clemens. I winged that old fucker and then Kayla came to and could not be reasoned with. That’s when I drove out here to put my dog, Old Bo, to rest.”
“I could take her to the hospital right now,” I said. “I could drive your truck in and get this baby the help it needs.”
“I could drive my truck, too,” he said. “And take this baby back to her mother.”
“Jenna needs a doctor.”
“Once them doctors take her, they aren’t likely to give her back.”
“They shouldn’t give her back,” I said.
“And why’s that?”
“You know why,” I said. “She’s not safe with Kayla.”
“Sounds like you got it all figured out.”
“I know what I saw at the farmhouse,” I said. “And I know I’m the best fit to help her now.”
“Well aren’t you high and mighty,” he said. “For a tweaker’s daughter.”
“I’m not nothing,” I said.
“Was she crying?” he said. “When you found her?”
“Yes.”
“I never even heard her.”
“I think she’ll be okay,” I said. “If I can take her now.”
“I didn’t mean for this baby to be hurt.”
“I know you didn’t.”
I waited a moment and when he did not respond I inched toward him. I did not want to startle him by standing and slid closer on my butt. I got right up beside him and I could smell the booze and something sharp and metallic on his breath. He sat with his shoulders hunched forward and breathed.
“Everything got sideways,” he said. “It all got twisted around.”
“You can still make it right.”
“It ain’t never going to be right. It never was right to begin with.”
“You could make it right for this baby.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not.”
“You can try,” I said.
I held out my arms for Jenna and she reached for me as Shelton held her there between us.
“Please,” I said.
He looked over at the shotgun and then down at Jenna. I wanted to reach for her but I did not. I sat there and waited and he did not turn to face me but finally lifted Jenna and put her into my arms and she squawked as I slid her into the papoose. I straightened the blanket above her and began to ease away from him.
“I’m so tired,” he said.
“You should sit here and rest,” I said.
I stood as I neared the door, then stepped into the hall. I was a foot from the shotgun now and knew I could reach it in time if he lunged. I believed I could turn it on him and squeeze the trigger, too—that I would be able to shoot him down right there in the room if he changed his mind.
But Shelton didn’t change his mind. He just sat there staring at the floor as I moved into the kitchen. I whispered to Jenna beneath my breath and told her everything was fine, but I knew she would not cry out and startle Shelton. I trusted her completely.
I opened the back door, then eased onto the porch and shut the door behind me. I took a few careful steps to clear the stairs, then bent forward against the wind and ran. The snow fell fast through the pines. The snow kept falling and falling and falling.
I never thought about the keys until I saw them on the driver’s-side seat. I was so glad to be out of the trailer I never stopped to realize I’d need the keys to actually drive the truck, and if Shelton wouldn’t have left them there I would have just kept running and hoped for the best. There was no way I was going back inside the trailer, and I think it’s likely those keys being there on the seat saved Jenna’s life. It was the one stroke of luck she’d gotten.
I started the truck and drove down the trail for the main road with Jenna snug in the papoose on my lap. The wind was fierce through the open windshield, but Jenna was beneath it and spared the direct blast. She wasn’t crying, and now that we were out of the trailer that quiet scared me. That and her filmy, faraway eyes.
I drove down the two-track until the tires dropped and we hit Grain Road. I put the truck in park then, looked in the rearview and there was nobody coming behind us, at least not that I could see through the snow. I fiddled with the seat lever until I got it to come forward and then I put the truck back into gear and drove.