My cheeks heat. “I didn’t mean— Obviously, I wouldn’t decide on my own to…” I swallow. “I was only reassuring them that I wasn’t trying to get rid of Abby.”
Dalton glares at Cypher and Jen. “What the fuck?”
“Yes,” Jen says. “We upset your princess.”
“Hey,” Cypher rumbles, turning a look on Jen. “I figured you were just sounding off. If you were really accusing Casey of wanting to get rid of this baby, maybe you oughta head on home, ’cause that’s some world-class bullshit right there.”
I expect Jen to tell him to go screw himself and storm off. Her mouth does set in a firm line. Then she says, still glowering, “Casey knows I didn’t mean it. She’s a bit sensitive.”
“Yeah, I’d be sensitive too if you accused me of that.” He turns to me. “I will take you to this trader family, kitten. I’m trying to make the situation easy for you, but that’s not my place.” He turns to Jen. “We’ll be back before dinner. Can I ask you to join me? Or did I just blow my chances?”
Jen’s eyes widen, as if she’d figured she’d blown her chances. Then she shrugs and says gruffly, “I guess so. Better be back by seven, though. I need to eat.” She hesitates, considers. “If you’re late, we can grab a drink.”
“If I’m not late, then we’ll do both. Now, you mind taking the tyke from Casey? I think we’re best leaving her behind for now.”
I agree. Unlike with the First Settlement, I will definitely want time to evaluate the situation before I hand Abby over.
* * *
We are gone before dawn … if not quite as early as we anticipated. As we’re slipping into the forest, I swear I see Phil standing at his bedroom window, watching us with disapproval, as if we’re teens who promised to leave the house quietly and did everything short of setting it on fire as we went.
I walk up ahead with Storm and Cypher. That gives Dalton time to talk to Maryanne. Cypher regales me with tales of life in the wilderness. He goes overboard being entertaining, as if that’s an apology for earlier.
Usually Jen’s insults slide past, but sometimes they cut a little too close to truth. I’m not trying to get rid of Abby, but I’m susceptible to the charge because I want to believe Jen’s right—that the proper and humane thing to do is keep Abby here and give her the kind of life every child deserves.
But isn’t that what Gene Dalton thought when he saw Eric? That child deserves better … and I can provide it. Classic white-savior syndrome. I see this child who comes from a place I deem less “civilized,” and I will save her, and the world will throw laurels around my neck for my selflessness.
Pimping your child goes way beyond “less civilized.” Few people would say, in that situation, that I should mind my own business. But if I don’t confirm the situation, how different am I from Gene Dalton? Yet if I do evaluate, where do I draw my line? That I will return her if her mother agrees to come to Rockton? That I will return her if they promise—cross their fingers, hope to die—never to prostitute her?
It’s not as if I haven’t considered this. The problem is that I can’t stop considering it. My brain is a gerbil in a wheel, squeaking endlessly and getting nowhere. Having Jen act as if I’m blithely going to hand Abby off is like slamming a sliver deeper into a festering infection.
As we walk, I watch Storm explore and let Cypher’s tall tales clear my mind. Then we near Brent’s … and my mood stumbles as I realize I’m going to a place where I lost a dear friend, where I held his hand as he died.
Dalton catches up then. He gives Maryanne’s supply pack to Cypher with, “You can carry it uphill.” He leans in to whisper to Cypher. “Maryanne’s getting tired. She won’t say it, so tell her you need a rest. Casey and I will go in first.”
Cypher heads back to Maryanne as Dalton and I carry on. After a few steps, I glance over my shoulder.
“Maryanne’s fine,” Dalton says. “I just figured we might want to go up alone.”
I squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”
His hand moves around my waist. “You doing okay?” He pauses. “That’s a rhetorical question—I know you’re not okay, and I know you’ll tell me you are. Not sure why I bother asking.”
I lean my head against his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. It’s tough coming up here, but it’s amazing that we have this place for Maryanne. I like knowing Brent’s cave and his things will help someone.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that, too. I also meant, though, that this morning’s bullshit is bugging you. But I get the feeling you don’t want to hash that through with me.”
“I didn’t mean—”
He bumps my shoulder. “It’s fine. I get it. We’re stuck in a loop we can’t escape until we have additional information, which we’ll get soon, I hope.”
“Yes.” I move behind him as we start the ascent. “Also, about earlier, when you walked in on me with Jen and Cypher.”
He chokes on a laugh.
I slug him in the ass. “Not like … Damn it, don’t put that in my head.”
“I didn’t say a word.”