"Well?" Eldon sprung from his seat as the door shut behind Mrs. Tate.
"Give me a second, will you?" she replied, her rubber boots squeaking on the porch boards as she settled her medical bag beside the empty chair. "I'm impressed you fixed that door so fast. I half-expected it to stay broken until next summer."
He rolled his eyes. "You're stalling."
She winked, all while easing herself into her seat as if she were ninety. Eldon just stood there, hands clenching in and out of fists, shoulders taught with impatience. When she noticed him staring, she arched a dark eyebrow. "Is it so hard to wait? I'm doing you a favor, you know. Why don't you channel some of that nervous energy into pouring me a cup of coffee?"
Biting back a curse, he reached for the copper kettle that balanced atop the wooden rail and poured her a steaming black cup. It wasn't like him to ignore manners, but something about harboring an unconscious citizen of Dominus made him forget. At least the storm had fully passed. To his relief, Mrs. Tate had stayed true to her word.
"Please don't say you want milk," he grumbled.
"I wouldn't dream of torturing you any longer," she teased, taking the porcelain mug and blowing on its rim. "Thank you, love."
"Welcome." He reclaimed his seat beside her faster than a kid playing musical chairs.
It seemed to take Mrs. Tate forever to situate herself. Though she never cared about looks, her natural beauty proved otherwise. Her coarse black curls were pulled into a high ponytail, with two feather earrings dangling from her earlobes. A dusting of freckles peppered her cheeks and nose. The mustard yellow handknit scarf and blue parka she wore complimented her radiant chocolate skin.
Gripping the handle, she placed her other hand on the side of the mug and inhaled the rising steam. "Ah, that's better. Nice and toasty." She turned her head to look at him. "Now, from what I've examined, our visitor is stable as can be. Breathing steady, heart and lungs strong, and his body temperature has climbed back to normal. I was expecting far worse, considering the state we found him in. No permanent frostbite damage on his ears or appendages, either. It's a miracle, really."
Eldon released a breath, finally relaxing a little. "So, he's going to make it."
"I'd be surprised if he doesn't." She glanced down at her coffee, a half-smile playing on her lips. "The baby is alive too. I heard a tiny, solid heartbeat inside his abdomen with the stethoscope."
The words hit like a bullet. Eldon had spent the last hour prepping himself for Mrs. Tate to confirm what she'd suspected yesterday. Even still, the phrase sounded ridiculous. He stared at the woman, expecting her to laugh, to take it back, to say she'd been pulling his leg.
But she did not.
He shifted in his seat, unable to keep from wincing. "A heartbeat?"
She nodded, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Clear as day. I barely believed it myself."
He dragged a hand down his face. "This is beyond strange."
"I know," she said, her voice almost glowing. She paused to sip her coffee, lost in thought. "But what if that barcode on his neck isn't what we assume? What if this man is actually someone of influence? Could the government brand be a mark of status, like a family crest or tribal tattoo in ancient times? He certainly has the face of nobility and privilege."
No,he has the face of a god.
Eldon shook his head. Mrs. Tate hadn't seen the look the man had given Eldon, mere seconds before collapsing. Fear, despair, anguish—it was all there. Just thinking about it made every hair on his body stand on end. "Why would someone leave the lap of luxury for the life of an outlaw? Especially being in the…. condition that he is." Eldon could barely get the words out. "Something really bad must have happened to make him leave."
"You're right," she answered atop a sigh. "I just hate assuming the worst."
"When it comes to Dominus, always assume the worst."
"Maybe he didn't leave at all. He's so far from the border. He could have been travelling with others when something unforeseen took place. An accident, or a fight, or an animal attack…"
"Judging by the ragged clothes, I'd wager he escaped," Eldon said. "It's clear he stole them."
Mrs. Tate shrugged. "His own clothing could have been blood-stained. There are other reasons he would have needed to swipe an outlier's clothes."
"Or kill them for it."
"I don't think that's true."
This time, Eldon didn't curb his grimace. "Regardless of the situation, Mrs. Tate—"
"Monty," she corrected. "How many times must I tell you?"
"I know, Monty, I'm sorry. Regardless of the situation, we both know he's dangerous."
She shot him a stubborn look, her gaze brimming with denial. But deep down, she knew the truth as much as Eldon. This wasn't some helpless pregnant woman whose husband had died, or whose village had burned down, or the father of her child had left her. No, someone had deliberately put a baby inside that man. Science had taken the time to plan this. What else had they done to him?
"The less we know about Dominus, the better," he said with finality.
Her breath fogged the air as she sighed. "It's not fair. Always choosing ignorance out of fear."
"Promise you won't ask him anything about that place, or how he… got the way he is."
Raising her cup to her lips, her hazel eyes darted upward.
"Promise, Monty," he repeated.
"Alright, Eldon. I promise."
"Thank you."
For a while, nothing but the sounds of the forest accompanied them as Monty continued to nurse her coffee. A wet chill still hung in the air. Autumn sunlight filtered through the canopy of Douglas firs, playing across the mossy ground in patches of brilliant gold. Birds sang in the distance, a chipmunk scurried across the roots of a massive oak, and gnats darted spastically in the beams of light.
Eldon usually relished moments like these, but he couldn't bring himself to focus on anything. Not until the man in his cabin was out and gone. "How soon do you think he can go back?"
She shrugged. "We won't know 'til he wakes."
"I hate that he has to stay here," he grumbled.
"You're the one who rescued him, so he's your responsibility."
"I should have left him."
She jerked upright. "Eldon Miller."
"What?"
"Don't you dare."
Frustration ripped through him. "I don't like most people, Monty. I can barely care for myself."
"You'll do just fine." Her tone deepened with authority, as if he were her disobedient child. "You help and protect our village year-round, you've saved countless lives from timber attacks, and I've seen the tender way you look after that horse of yours. You're a good man with a good heart. You can't fool me into believing otherwise."
How could this woman be so confident? She didn't know him, not really. Nobody knew him, and he preferred it that way. "Fine," he said, his voice tight and sharp, "but chances are Dominus is already looking for him. They can't find him here. As soon as he recovers, I'm taking him to Acadia."
She rolled her eyes. "I swear, you wouldn't know fate if it bit you in the ass."
"I don't believe in fate."
"Will you ever look at things positively?" She huffed, drawing her parka hood up over her head. "Seven years ago, Dominus took something precious from you, something you held most dear." Her words dropped heavily in the silence. "Now, perhaps, it has given you something back. Maybe you finding this man was meant to be."
Eldon shot to his feet. The cruel irony. Every muscle inside him tensed in painful denial. He couldn't believe Monty had gone that far. She had knowingly breached the boundaries of their relationship. For years, no one—no one—had dared speak to him about his old life. "That… experiment in there is not some divine miracle placed here to save me," he seethed, his hands clenching into fists. "It's an inconvenience, and a danger to the village. I don't need anything, or anyone."
"Everyone needs someone, even solitary grumps like you." Ignoring his anger, she took one last sip and rose from her chair. "You're going to look after him whether you like it or not. You will do what you must for the sake of that man and his child." She plopped her mug into his hand. "Thank you for the coffee."
Eldon stood frozen as she picked up her bag and retreated to her mule-drawn cart.
"Dammit, Monty!" he barked as she untethered the reins from the hitching post. He'd never raised his voice at her, but the fear rising within him had breached his control. "Don't leave me here with him. When are you coming back? I can't do this without you!"
"You've already been doing it," she said. She clicked her tongue and sent Buttercup into forward motion. "We won't know how strong he is until he wakes. You should try and get him to eat and drink something today. He's been out cold since yesterday morning, and he needs nutrients as soon as possible. Remember no caffeine, no soft cheeses, and no sandwich meats. I'll be back in a couple days."
Once she'd left, Eldon lowered his arm. He let the mug slip from his hand. It fell to the floor with a clang, the handle snapping free.
* * *
"Can you believe this, Deputy?" Eldon grumbled as he finished adjusting his horse's bridal. "Of all the people in this region, I had to be the one to come across that man in the creek. I'll probably be killed for it, too. Oh, but it's fate according to Monty. What the hell did I do to deserve this?"
The animal snorted hot air and flicked his ears.
"My thoughts exactly." Eldon climbed into the saddle. "Let's just hope he doesn't wake while we're gone."
They set off on the trail leading away from the cabin. The storm had set him back hunting a day, and his ritual of making camp had been thwarted by his unexpected guest. Now, he'd no choice but to hunt whatever he could in one afternoon. If he was lucky, the rain will have brought the game out to feed closer to home.
When the trail turned into a narrow path and forked, he guided Deputy left. They rode deep into the forest, continuing onward for half-an-hour through dense "cities" of coniferous trees, along glass-like ponds, and through glades of bright autumn foliage. The Cascade mountains loomed in the distance, their snowcapped peaks visible for miles. Hundreds of years ago, before the great collapse, this area had belonged to eastern Washington.
Crisp air filled his lungs. Deputy's hooves clopped softly atop the leaf-covered ground. Here, in the seclusion of nature, he could finally clear his mind. The howl of distant timber rode the wind like an eerie chill. The beast sounded several miles off, but in a couple months' time, that would no longer be the case. His watch tower—one of twelve in the area—would become like a second home during the winter. The safety of the surrounding villages relied on the keen eyes and quick reflexes of their guardians.
Suddenly, a large rabbit darted across the rocky trail ahead, disappearing into the boulders and brambles. A stroke of luck. An animal of that size that would make for a good stew. Eldon pulled Deputy to a halt and dismounted. Slowly, quietly, he pulled the bow from the sling on his back and reached for an arrow in his quiver. This time of year, silent weapons could mark the difference between life and death. Guns were messy and attracted attention for miles. Aside from protection, firearms weren't worth the risk.
He ducked behind a tree trunk, nocking the arrow and waiting for the rabbit to emerge. Soon enough, it hopped out and sniffed the air. Aiming at his target, Eldon pulled the string back, all the way past his ear, letting the tension build before he released. He raised the arrow to meet its flight path and let go. The string snapped forward with the force of twenty whips.