why the Lord would want to set something like the Circuit Rider loose on Solom, especially since most of them were decent, churchgoing folks.
But it didn't matter whether Harmon had ridden up through the gates of hell or whether he'd clopped down a set of golden stairs. Odus could track the Circuit Rider down, because, ghostly stallion or not, the animal had left hoofprints in the muddy parking lot. With a flashlight, Odus had followed the tracks until they disap peared on the asphalt of Railroad Grade Road though the prints faded and vanished within minutes of me animal's passing. Chances were that Harmon was hiding out up in the woods, probably on his original land at the foot of Lost Ridge where the Smith house sat. Even a dead man probably took comfort in familiar surroundings.
Odus hadn't mentioned his plan to the others because he didn't see that they could offer any help. Ray had a country lick of sense, but he was too steamed at his brother to work as a group. Sarah had too many years on her, Sue Norwood was too young, Lillian was an outsider, and David couldn't shake free of his Bible enough to tackle such a thing.
Odus hunted in the fall and usually got himself two or three bucks each season. The venison could be frozen or canned, and he traded the meat for vegetables and fruit. It was another way to keep from holding down a regular job. Now the tracking skills would come in handy, though a Winchester .30-30 wouldn't do the same job on Harmon Smith that it did on a white-tailed deer. Odus fig ured he'd find the right weapon when the time came. He threw a can of Vienna sausages, a couple of apples, a Thermos of coffee, and the bottle of Old Crow in his leather hunting pouch, hauled it and his fishing rod to the truck, and headed for the river road.
Mark Draper pulled up to the Smith house just before 9:00 a.m. Jett had e-mailed him the directions a few weeks back so he could pick her up for the Thanksgiving weekend. He'd been to the moun tains before, but never tins deep into them, where Tennessee and Virginia met North Carolina in a craggy collision. Mark had asked Katy as few questions as possible about Gordon. While he was curious, as all ex-lovers are, he didn't want to give her the satisfaction
Gordon Smith seemed to be doing all right for himself, judging from the restoration work on the old farmhouse. The new tractor by the woodshed probably cost twice as much as Mark's Honda Ac cord, and Jett had told him the Smith property contained over two hundred acres. Goats milled around the barn, and a row of stricken roosts was lined across the barn's front wall. The rich tang of manure filled the air, but the air contained a freshness and greenness despite the season.
Mark got out and wiped the last sleepiness from his eyes. Three sups of coffee hadn't changed the fact that he'd left Charlotte be fore sunup. Now he had to take a whiz, but he ordered his bladder to calm down. He didn't want his first sentence to Katy's new hus band to be, 'Could I use your bathroom?'
He was approaching the porch when the door opened and Jett's head poked out. 'Daddy!' she squealed, and despite the grin that spread across his face, a dagger of memory pierced his heart. She'd sounded the same way when he picked her up after her first day of kindergarten. Now she was living under another's man's roof, his ex- wife was sharing that man's bed, and he was years older and wearier.
They ran to each other and Jett jumped into his arms, nearly blocking him over. 'My, you're getting big, honey,' he said. 'This fresh air must be doing wonders for your appetite.'
'Daddy,' she repeated.
'Let's have a look at you.' Mark held her hand as she twirled like a ballerina. She was in flannel pajamas and wore gray bunny slippers. Her hair was dyed a shade darker than she'd worn it in Charlotte and held a hint of purple. She had grown at least an inch, maybe two, since he'd last seen her.
'Thanks for coming.'
'I told you I'd be here whenever you needed me.'
'And I need you. We need you.'
Mark gave her another hug. 'What did your mother say about my coming?'
Jett looked at the ground. 'I didn't tell her.'
Katy appeared in the open doorway, hand at her throat, clasping the front of her nightgown together. She was as beautiful as Mark remembered red hair shining in the sun like lustrous copper, freck les dappling her cheeks, her pert lips parted in an unspoken ques tion.
'Hi, Katy,' Mark said, feeling stupid. He waved.
She blinked twice and rolled her green eyes. 'What in the world are you doing here?'
'I came to see my daughter.'
'You can't just show up out of the blue. We have a custody agreement.'
'I asked him to come, Mom,' Jett said. 'To help us.'
Katy looked at the two of them as if they were coconspirators in some bizarre practical joke. 'We don't need any help.'
'You don't think so, but you're spaced out, Mom.'
'I'm perfectly fine,' she said but looked at the barn as if she'd misplaced something and couldn't remember where she'd last seen it
'What kind of trouble are you in?' Mark asked Katy.
'I don't know. Something about the barn. And recipes.'
'Can I come in?'
'I'll have to ask Gordon.'
'Where is he?'
'Taking a shower.'
'Okay, I'll just wait here with the world's bestest girl.' He put his arm around Jett as Katy went back inside. 'So what's all this about the barn?'
'Well, it's kind of hard to explain.'
'Look, we've always been honest with each other, even when we mess up. If it wasn't for my drug use, you might not—'
'This isn't about drugs, Daddy. It's about the goddamned man in the black hat and the scarecrow boy and the goats that tried to eat me, and maybe about Mom losing her mind. She thinks the house is haunted.'
Mark wiped his mustache, unable to comprehend what his daughter was saying. Had she dragged him up here for some dramatic story? He was glad to see her, but if she started lying to get attention, he predicted trouble ahead for both him and Katy. So far, Jett hadn't punished either of them for the divorce, but she no doubt harbored a seething anger.
He was about to question her when Gordon came onto the porch. Mark nodded in greeting, straightening his spine and lifting his head, because Gordon had at least three inches on him. Jett led Mark up the porch and made introductions. Mark gripped Gordon's hand, wondering whether to go for the macho thing and try to squeeze the hardest. Instead, they both pressed flesh as if afraid of catching germs.
'Come in,' Gordon said, turning and going back inside. 'Make yourself at home.'
Jett gave him a sideways glance as if to say, 'See what I have to live with?'
They sat in the study. Katy fidgeted, hustling around the room and arranging magazines, Gordon's collection of religious relics on the mantel, and the plastic cases of DVDs that were stacked in front of the television. Mark noticed folded blankets stacked be side the sofa and wondered who had been sleeping downstairs. He was alarmed to find pleasure at the thought of Katy's abandoning her marital bed. Whatever her sleeping habits, she certainly was a lot fussier about housekeeping than she'd been when they shared the same roof.
'Can I get you something to drink—' Mark could tell by her exhalation that she almost said 'honey,' one of those lingering endearments that were difficult to shake off despite a legal document terminating such pleasantries. Mark himself knew the price of a re laxed guard having lost a recent girlfriend by accidentally calling her 'Katy' in a moment of passion. Gordon didn't seem to notice, but Jett sat forward on the sofa, attuned to the air of expectation that filled the room.
'I had coffee on the way up,' Mark said, and that reminded him of the pressure in his bladder.
'So, to what do we owe this surprise visit?' Gordon asked.
'I'm sorry. I thought Jett had cleared it with you guys. I would never intrude otherwise.'
'You didn't think to call me?' Katy asked standing by the cold fireplace holding a throw pillow against her stomach. He admired her long fingers, the nails painted cherry, the freckles scattered across the backs of her hands like star maps he'd once memorized.
'It's some personal stuff,' Jett cut in. 'I didn't want you to make excuses and keep him away.'
