“We can’t just leave you,” Rose said.
“I’m not staying alone,” Smalldog told her. He looked toward Bascombe. “This son of a bitch is staying with me.”
“Wait a minute,” Bascombe objected. “What do you need me for?”
“You’re going to go out on your dock and greet your Seven Trumpets friends and do whatever song and dance you can to delay them while these folks make it to the deputy’s boat.”
“Yeah, says who?”
Smalldog held out his hands to Cork. “Take these cuffs off me.”
Cork drew the key from his pocket and freed the Shinnob.
“Give me your rifle.”
Cork hesitated.
“You have to decide who’s on your side,” Smalldog told him. “And you don’t have much time.”
“Give it to him, Cork,” Rose said. “I believe him.”
“She’s right,” Mal said.
Cork handed the Marlin to Smalldog, who took the weapon and leveled the barrel at Bascombe. “Want to argue with me now?”
“Christ, they’ll shoot me down like a dog,” Bascombe said.
“Maybe they will and maybe they won’t. You’re pretty good at putting yourself in the middle of things. Let’s see how good you are at getting yourself out.”
“I’m staying, too,” Tom Kretsch said.
Smalldog shook his head. “Overturf knows you. You’ve got to convince him to help these folks.”
“They can go to Amos Powassin. He’ll help them.”
“I’m not leaving you men here,” Cork said. He hated the thought of deserting them. He was pretty sure that, if they stayed behind, there wasn’t much hope they’d come out of their encounter with Seven Trumpets in one piece.
“Go,” the deputy ordered, with all the authority of the law. “There’s no time to argue.”
“I can’t just run out on you,” Cork insisted.
Smalldog looked at him, for the first time with something resembling affection. “The man who threw rocks at me and wouldn’t back down, that’s the man I want standing between the Hornetts and my sister’s baby. And you got a daughter to think about, too. I’ll feel a whole lot more comfortable sticking here if you go.”
“Goes for me, too,” Kretsch said.
Every instinct in Cork cried out to argue with them, but he knew they were right. His duty lay elsewhere now. As much as he hated leaving these two good men to their uncertain fate, he hated more the thought of what might happen at Henry Meloux’s cabin on Crow Point if he couldn’t find a way to intervene.
“Bascombe.” Smalldog eyed the big man. “You do your best to help get these folks away from Lake of the Woods, and I’ll do my best to cover your back while you’re out on the dock. You do anything to screw it up, though, and you’re dead, I promise you that.”
“Someone cut me loose,” Kretsch said.
He held out his duct-taped wrists.
Cork used Smalldog’s knife to free the deputy, who grabbed the second rifle.
“Thank you,” Cork said.
He wanted to take a precious moment to shake their hands, but from the lake outside came the engine rumble of boats approaching.
“Go,” Kretsch said. “Get the hell out of here.”
And they did—Rose and Anne and Sarah and Mal and Cork—hurried out the back door of the cabin, across the apron of grass, and into the woods. They hit the trail at a lope, Mal grunting every time he put weight on his injured ankle, but he kept up, and the trees quickly swallowed them.
They were almost to the little cove where Kretsch’s boat lay anchored when they heard the first of the shots far behind them. A moment later came the rattle of automatic weapons fire.
Rose whispered, loud enough for Cork to hear, “God be with them.” Then he heard her add, “God be with them all.”
FORTY-SEVEN
It was late afternoon in Tamarack County, Minnesota. On Crow Point, the shadow of the rock outcropping that walled Meloux’s fire ring stretched across the green meadow grass. The forest that edged the clearing had become murky as the daylight grew pale in the elongated slant of the sun. There was not a breath of wind. The water of Iron Lake was so perfect a mirror that, whenever Jenny looked there, it was as if she saw two skies.
She and Rainy had spent the past couple of hours preparing dinner, a savory stew made of herbs and venison and vegetables, which filled the cabin with a delectable aroma. Rainy had baked bread as well, something the new stove facilitated. Waaboo lay in the ice chest on the floor, and Jenny made certain that when he was awake he could see her. He seemed perfectly content watching.
Walleye seemed restless, occasionally rising from the floor to pad around the cabin and sniff the air. In that room, Jenny thought it would be impossible to pick up any scent except the wonderful smell of the stew.
“They’re coming,” Rainy said.
She was looking out the east window toward a stand of aspen that ran along the shoreline of Crow Point. Jenny stood next to her and saw them returning, Aaron in the lead, with Stephen and Henry Meloux many paces back. Stephen carried the old Mide’s beaded bandolier bag. In his right hand, Meloux held a long walking stick, and he seemed to lean on it significantly as he made his way across the meadow to the cabin. Jenny went out to greet them, and Walleye tagged along.
“You were gone a long time,” she said to Aaron.
“I think we walked every inch of the Superior National Forest.” He smiled as if he’d actually enjoyed it.
“How was Henry?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“One tired old man,” he said. “But he kept pushing himself. A lot to admire there. And, Christ, I’ve never met anyone who knows so much about everything around him, and I’m not just talking about the woods. I swear, the minute I think something, he looks at me as if I spoke it out loud. Spooky.”
“My dad says that Meloux reads people, everything about them. Their eyes and faces and hands, how they hold themselves and walk and speak. He says even the silence of people tells Henry a lot.”
They stood together, waiting, and in a few moments, Stephen and Meloux caught up, with Walleye beside them.
“We got some great mushrooms,” Stephen said. “A ton of morels. I figured they’d all be gone by now, but Henry knows where to look.”
“And now you do, too,” the old man said.
“I have been thinking about that mattress on my bunk for the last two miles,” Henry said.
He nodded to Jenny and went ahead with Stephen, and they both entered the cabin. Walleye started inside, then stopped and turned back and stared at the woods on the far side of the meadow, sniffing the air.
Aaron stood looking at the grass beneath his feet. “I think it’s true. Silence says a lot. I’ve been tight-lipped lately, I know. This whole thing with Waaboo has had me pretty confused.”
Jenny was pleased to hear him use the name, pleased that the baby was someone to him now, not just an inconvenient circumstance.
He lifted his eyes and looked at her with sad determination. “Jenny, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and there are some things I need to say.”
“I’m listening.”
He took a deep breath and spoke somberly. “My parents never wanted me. They never wanted a child. Their lives were all about them, and mostly I was an inconvenience. That was a sad truth. But the sadder truth is that
