He wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I should have grabbed your gun instead of letting them talk to us that way.”
“No, it would have just made things worse if you fired at one of them. And they had knives . . .”
“That cabin was theirs.” He swallowed. “I should have known from all the naked pictures and cigarettes. I bet they hide all their vices from their mother out there.”
“Uncle Clyde knows their father—he’s the pharmacist.”
Joe readjusted his hold on the lantern. “I’m sure he knows him for other reasons, as well.”
With that, he took off into the hedges. Branches scraped across his sides and tugged at his shirt, and I followed him, running away yet again.
A HALF HOUR OR SO LATER, I REALIZED WE WERE HEADING south, toward Fleur’s property . . . and my family’s property. My brain had been reeling too much to notice the morning sunlight of the east peeking through the trees to our left.
“Wait!” I dropped the basket in a patch of mushrooms. “You’re leading me back home?”
Joe swiveled on his right heel and faced me with the carpetbag and lantern in hand. “I don’t want them thinking they chased us out of the state.”
“But—”
“We’ll starve without food and supplies. And meanwhile, Clyde Koning will be sitting comfortably in your house—alive, healthy, and free.”
I brushed my right hand through my hair, which had come loose from the pins I’d slept in all night. “He knows I accused him of murder, Joe. I can’t go back to him.”
“Put the blame on me for everything. Tell them I seduced you.”
“I don’t think . . .” I shook my head. “No . . . What if he knows you’re not attracted to women?”
“Everyone always assumes this is something I can change. We can use that. Stick with the elopement story, but say you got cold feet and wanted to return to your mother. Apologize.”
“But—”
“We’re still better off taking care of the doc if you’re in the house with him.” Joe walked toward me, his ankles brushing through the grasses. “If we stay out here in the woods, we’re just going to end up getting scared and fleeing the state.”
Without warning, a startling pop-pop-pop-pop-pop ricocheted across the tops of the trees.
I ducked and cried out, “What’s that?”
“Some early fireworks, probably.” Joe looked toward the sky. “I think it’s the Fourth of July.”
“Oh.” I straightened back up. “I forgot about that.” I relaxed my shoulders a hair of an inch. “If I go back home, where are you going to stay? You can’t go back to the Paulissens’ shed.”
“I know.”
I sighed again. “We have an old stable at the edge of our property. Other than harvesting berries, we don’t farm or raise animals anymore, now that Uncle Clyde takes care of us. You can stay in there if you’d like.”
He readjusted his grip on the carpetbag. “And do what?”
“Figure out how to make things right.”
His mouth twitched in reaction to my words. Using the back of his hand that held the lantern, he nudged away the lock of hair that was always falling over his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He lowered the lantern to his side. “You’re off the idea of killing him, aren’t you?”
“I can’t poison him, Joe. I’m considering becoming a lawyer.”
“Hmm”—he tapped his bag against the side of his right shin—“I’ve always heard that unscrupulousness is a prerequisite for becoming a lawyer.”
I frowned. “I’m not joking. I want to become a force this state has to reckon with, not a fugitive it’s required to kill.”
He puffed a frustrated breath out of the corner of his mouth.
I turned toward the path to my house. “I know you said you would need to take your own life directly afterward if you were the one who killed him—”
“I would.”
My skin chilled at his lack of hesitancy.
“Hanalee”—he stepped closer—“look at me.”
I swallowed and did as he asked.
He stopped two feet in front of me and peered straight at me with eyes as brown as the earth beneath our feet. His peppermint-scented nearness made me remember the kiss, and I didn’t know if I should look at his face or the backs of my hands.
“No one else is ever going to bring justice to your father,” he said, leaning forward on his right foot. “No one else is going to give a damn about us. Those words you just heard those Witten bastards say about people like you and me? That’s how most people around here think.”
“I don’t know. I . . .” I scooted backward an inch. “There’s got to be a better way. A legal way.”