Page 55 of Thunder Pass

Carrie shrugged. She’d always been slender, but now she was downright gaunt. What had been going on here this summer? “Argue with him, then. He says you’re dead to him.”

“If you tell me where he is, I will.”

None of them answered. Ruth blinked the tears out of her eyes. “You’ve all known me since I was a baby. You were nicer to me than my own mother! Are you really going to treat me like this?” she cried out.

Saffron turned from the meat stew she was stirring and jabbed a finger at her. “You’re the one who turned your back on us. You know what the rules are here. Your first loyalty was supposed to be to us, to the family. You chose to break that rule. Everything else is a consequence of that. Go on. Go back to the town. It’s where you belong now.”

Ruth’s breath caught in her throat. Maybe Aunt Saffron was right. Maybe she did belong in Firelight Ridge now.

You’re not here for a reunion, she reminded herself. She straightened her spine. It didn’t matter what they thought of her. All she wanted was information.

“What about Sarah? Is she dead to Luke too?”

“Sarah?” Magda looked blank, as if she hadn’t heard that name in a while. “That’s different. She’s only sixteen. You probably coerced her to leave.”

“I didn’t coerce her, I was just trying to keep her safe. With all these new men around here, I was worried for her. I don’t even know where they’re from or who they are. Or what they’re doing here. Do you know?”

No one answered. Ruth couldn’t tell if that was because they didn’t know anything, or if they’d been ordered not to speak.

“I mean, there’s kids around here,” she continued. “Shouldn’t their safety come first?”

“All the kids are exactly where they need to be,” Aunt Magda snapped. “Now get on out. Go back to where you belong now.”

Ruth bit her lip. She wasn’t going to make any progress here in this kitchen, where tension bubbled, ready to boil over faster than the potatoes.

She walked through the mudroom, her heart catching at the sight of all the little pegs for the children’s winter coats, and boots of all sizes lined up on floor mats. She paused, listening for the sound of young voices. Where were the kids?

The front door swung open and there was Miller.

“Miller!” she exclaimed softly.

“Auntie Ruth!” For the first time, someone seemed happy to see her. She could have cried with relief.

She looked behind her, making sure no one else was listening, and lowered her voice. “I’m so happy to see you. Where are the others?”

Miller shrugged, as if he had better things to think about.

“What’s been going on here? Who are all these new people?”

“They’re going to help us,” he said eagerly.

“Help you what?”

“Be rich,” he declared. “We’re all going to be rich. We’re all going to be like kings.” His freckled face glowed with excitement.

“Miller, that sounds like a fantasy. You didn’t even know what ‘rich’ meant a year ago. What is going on here? This is me, Auntie Ruth. You can tell me.”

But she saw the little kid she’d watch grow up recede behind a sneering mask. “It’s not a fantasy. It’s real and you were stupid to leave when you did. Anyway, it’s man’s work. You don’t even belong here anymore.” He stuck out his tongue and loped into the house.

Wow. She stood, stunned. Miller could be temperamental, but she’d never seen him be so rude. With a giant lump in her throat, she stepped out of the longhouse, realizing as she did so that it might very well be the last time.

A bittersweet moment. But there was no love for her at this compound—except maybe from the hens.

Inside the chicken coop, there was no sign of Gunnar yet. He must still be scoping out the trucks. Ruth crouched next to Maisie and stroked the delicate orange feathers on her neck. It broke her heart to think of the day that neck would get snapped because Maisie had stopped laying.

At least she wouldn’t have to do the deed. She’d be far away, in Firelight Ridge, unable to do anything for Maisie.

All the kids are right where they need to be.

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