“What’s got you so bloody cheerful for a change.”
Tommy drank the beer in one and passed it back for a refill. “Smiling’s allowed in here now, is it not?”
“Unusual, that’s all. You’re about the miserablest bugger I know.”
“Been over the bakery, I reckon,” Collier piped up beside him. “Never mind smiling, I’d be crowing all over town if that wasme.”
Tommy nursed the second beer. “Which is why you ain’t married, Jim.”
Mick smirked. Collier sat there frowning. Mick said, “Busy day, then, Bobby? Saw you had a visitor out your way?”
Tommy paused, lowered the glass. “What visitor?”
“Wasn’t he coming to see you, then? Tall fella, kind of fancy-looking?”
“I was working,” Tommy said, his voice tightening. “I’ve not been back to the house, came straight off the fields. When wasthis?”
“Hard to say, I mean—”
“When, Mick?”
“A couple of hours ago. Y’all right there, Bobby? You’ve gone pale.”
His gaze roamed the bar and the dusty shelves behind. He teetered from the stool to his feet. “Tall, did you say? Did he havea longcoat on?”
“I wasn’t paying much attention to what he was wearing, like.”
“Did he have a fucking longcoat or not?”
“I seen him,” one of the other drinkers said, and Tommy spun. “Long dark coat on him, aye. Like a rain slicker almost.”
“How tall was he?”
The man shrugged.
“How tall?”
“How should I know? He was on a bloody horse!”
Despairingly Tommy reached above his head. “Like this? Seven foot almost?”
“I wouldn’t quite go that far. More like your own height, maybe.”
Tommy lurched forward, knocking the stool; it clattered loudly on the floor. He left the pub without paying. Staggering tothe door then outside, where the first fat raindrops had just begun to fall, peppering his shoulders and carving little cratersin the sandy road. Tommy stood there trembling head to toe. It could have been anyone, might not have been going to his house,the track followed the creek for miles beyond. He glanced in that direction. He didn’t even have a gun. He’d got comfortable,careless, and now a man had come to see him, tall, wearing a longcoat. He should leave, he thought suddenly. Ride off andlose himself and start all over again. Lady was across the road, tied to the rail, it would be so easy, but . . . the bakerynow in darkness, Emily waiting round back, Arthur and Rosie, even Tess, this little life he’d so tentatively built. He couldn’tleave them. He closed his eyes, cupped his face, groaned. He wasn’t that boy who’d run from Noone, from Burns, from everyone;all his life he had run. Not this time. Not again. If this was what it had come to, he decided, he would face it, take hischances, even if it meant the end.
Around the back of the bakery he found Emily sheltering beneath the canopy, against the wall. She had changed her dress and lost the apron, and stood clutching a little overnight bag in her hand. In the other she held the two leftover pies he had wanted, wrapped in a clean white towel, and the sight of her holding them, smiling at him, nearly broke Tommy’s brittle heart. “Thought you’d forgotten all about me,” she began teasing, then stopped when she saw his face. “Bobby? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“You can’t come to the house. Stay upstairs, keep the door locked. I’ll come and get you. Wait here.”
“Get me when?”
“Tonight, tomorrow, when I know it’s safe.”
“Safe? You’re scaring me now—what’s happened?”
He shook his head, slick with rain. “Just . . . please, Emily, do what I ask.”
“Not unless you tell me what’s going on.”
Tommy looked up at the sky, the clouds full, heavy, pillowy-gray; blinking raindrops from his eyes. “There might be a blokecome looking for me. I just need to see what he’s about.”
There was something in her stare that changed then, like she’d always suspected this moment would come. She’d asked abouthis past, his childhood; he’d assumed she believed the answers he gave. Maybe not, he now realized. Maybe she just felt enoughfor him that she’d decided to leave it alone.
“It could be anyone,” she said hopefully. “Cattle business, maybe?”
“Maybe.”
“But you don’t think so.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Because you already know who this man might be.”
He nodded.
“And you’re afraid of him? Is that what this is?”
Yes, but it stung hearing her say it. “I just need to go and check.”
“And then you’ll come back and tell me?”
“I will.”
“When, exactly?”
“I don’t know. As soon as I can.”
She swiped her cheek. It wasn’t rain she was brushing away. Tommy reached out to touch her but she swatted his hand. “You come back to me, you hear? You come back to me, Bobby, understand?”
Meekly he nodded. They came together and kissed, hard and desperate. As if trying to tell each other all those things theyhadn’t yet said. As if it was their last.
Tommy pulled away but Emily moved with him, reluctant to let go.
Chapter 35
Henry Wells
“But did he at least say he would consider it?” Henry called into the dining room, washing his hands in the kitchen sink.“Once I have all the evidence in place?”
Jonathan was lighting candles, pouring wine, their food already served and steaming on the plates. “Yes, I think so. I don’treally see how he could refuse.”
Henry came through, drying his hands on a tea towel, which he balled and dropped on the table as he sat down. Jonathan lookedat him reproachfully. Henry smirked and rolled his eyes, moved the towel onto
