Behind the Stars (18 page)

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I answered.

“Why not?”

“We talked about this last time.”

He nodded. “Jackson.”

“I’m sort of in a committed relationship.”

“But if we’re just dancing, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like...”

“No, but I think, if the situation were reversed, if it were him, I wouldn’t like it.”

Gallatin walked back and sat on the fallen tree beside me. “Why wouldn’t you like it? Would it mean something to you?”

He tried to take my hand, but I slid it away. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“Which one?”

“The one about you being a priest.”

He chuckled again. “I am not a priest.”

“So what are you? Why would you decide to be celibate so young?”

“Why would you decide to get married so young?”

“You keep doing that! Every time I ask you something, you turn it away onto something else.”

He sighed. “Okay. After my grandfather dies, I’ll take his place. As a Guard.”

“And Guards don’t marry? But how does that work? He’s your grandfather.”

“Sometimes it’s best if we don’t marry. In times of turmoil or increased danger. Loved ones can be used against us.”

“Like since you’ve invaded our country?”

“It’s not like that, Prentiss. There’s a lot you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.”

“I want you to dance with me. Please? Just once.”

I let out a frustrated groan and stood up, striding back around the pool to the moonlit spot. It was the way back to the camp, but he was quickly at my side, catching my hand.

“I won’t let it mean anything, I promise.”

“How can you say something like that?”

“Here.” He stepped closer and slid his hands around my waist, pulling me to him.

I didn’t fight. I let him hold me in an embrace, and after a few sways, I even lifted my hands to his shoulders. But I was too short. My face was pressed into his chest.

“Hang on,” he said, looking around.

Then he led me to the hillside by the pool. There was a little ledge where some rocks jutted out over the side forming a lip. He helped me step up on them, and at that height, my chin met his shoulder. I could see his face better, and the moonlight reflected the smile in his amber eyes.

“Much better,” he said, sliding his arm around my waist again and starting to sway.

I couldn’t really move or I’d fall off the ledge, but I didn’t want to face him this way. I leaned my head forward so my chin was on his shoulder and we merely swayed back and forth. My eyes closed and I felt myself relax in his arms. Then I noticed he was humming a tune I almost recognized.

“What’s that?” I whispered.

“Harvest moon,” he said softly in my ear.

His lips tickled my skin. We were a breath away from a kiss, and I turned my face into his neck. His arm tightened around my waist, and I wanted to cry. I wanted to kiss him. Instead, I straightened up. I couldn’t step away from where I was perched on the rocks, and my back was to the hillside. All I could do was look into his face. He looked back at me, and we stood there caught in a moment of longing and regret.

“I need to go,” I said through the thickness in my throat. “I shouldn’t be here now. Like this.”

He reached up and slid a piece of my flyaway hair behind my ear. “I wish things were different.”

“Please help me down.”

He stepped back and gently lifted me to the ground then we started walking back toward the pack and the way to camp.

“Will you tell me something?” he said.

“Okay.”

“Why are you engaged? So young, I mean.”

I sighed and stopped walking. We were in our little circle of light, only now it was moonlight. “Remember that about my dad?”

“Being an alcoholic?”

I nodded and sat down. He did the same, taking my hand again. This time I didn’t pull away.

“My mamma died when I was about nine, and my daddy started drinking. First he only did it at night til he passed out. Then he started at lunch. Then lunch and night started meeting up, and he’d go all the way to bedtime, then past bedtime.”

Gallatin’s thumb stroked the top of my hand, and he looked down at our joined hands. “Alcoholism is a strange illness,” he said. “There’s always an emotional component.”

“Yeah, well, then Braxton found Jesus.”

“What does that mean?” he laughed. “Was Jesus lost?”

“It means my brother turned into a Jesus-freak. Big time. And he started preaching at Daddy every night. After a while, they’d start arguing. Then Daddy’d start punching him in the face.”

Gallatin’s hand tightened on mine. I looked up and his face was lined. He tried to pull me to him, but I caught his arm and pushed back.

“Don’t,” I said, wondering why my eyes were burning. I’d stopped crying over my stupid brother and my drunk daddy fighting years ago.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine you caught in the middle of something like that. And you were still so young?”

“I was about thirteen.”

“So this Jackson helped you?

“I’d sneak out and run to his house and spend the night.”

“He kept you safe.”

“I guess,” I said. “It was more like he was my safe place to run. My promise of something better. A better life.”

“I understand why you feel so strongly about him, then.”

“We were always together after that. I was his girl, and his daddy was going to give us the farm. It was my future. My dream.”

“Until now?”

“No, not until now. It’s still my dream. I’m going to find Jackson, and we’re...” I bit my lip. Who’s side was I on anyway? I was supposed to be getting information from him, and instead I was about to give away my whole plan.

“Come on,” I said, standing up. “We need to get back to camp.”

He stood with me and pulled the backpack onto his shoulder. We set out over the hills in silence. We’d been coming this way so often, I could find my way in the dark, and I made a mental note of that for when I returned.

At the fence Gallatin stopped and turned to me. “I’m sorry your life was like that. I’m sorry that soon...”

He stopped speaking, and my body tensed. I should want to know the rest of whatever he was about to say, but all I felt was sadness. I knew what he was about to say. Soon he’d be leaving.

“Hearing that story makes me wish I could have been the one to protect you,” he said.

“I don’t need your protection,” I sniffed. “I’m little, but I can take care of myself.”

“Everyone needs help. Sometimes.” He reached up and slid the hair back from his face exposing the scar on his cheek.

I didn’t know how to answer that. I still didn’t know how he’d gotten those scars, but more than that, I didn’t know who I wanted protecting me now.

I stepped through the fence. “I guess this is good-night,” I whispered.

“Sleep well, doctor.”

I shook my head and sneaked past the cabins across the dark yard and into the dormitory. Once inside I stood for several minutes with my face pressed against the doorjamb. I could still feel his finger tracing my cheek, and for just a moment, I imagined my head was still resting on his chest.

Why was this happening? I wasn’t this kind of person. Other girls got their feelings all mixed up over boys, but I didn’t. That question had been settled in my mind years ago, and yet here I was acting like a starry-eyed little twit. I was failing in my job to rescue us. Everyone was counting on me, and here I was useless, fighting this battle with myself. I had to get it together. I had to get myself back on track, for all of us.

I turned to face the dark room. Heavy breathing or the occasional snore was the only sound that met my ears. I went to my bunk, undressed, and crawled under the thin sheet. I hadn’t accomplished much, other than learning his grandfather was some leader and Gallatin was all set to take his place. That wasn’t really helpful. It was clear he was somehow politically important like his sister. I supposed that was why she was so anxious to have him here. But it wasn’t useful. I had to find out about the chips and when they were leaving. I had to get him to tell me their plans and what, if anything, was in those boxes.

I rolled onto my side and slid my knees up to my chest. His soft touch, the warmth in his eyes, his words at the fence about protecting me, all these things rolled together into a lump in my chest. My eyes slid closed, and I remembered the feeling of his arms holding me, swaying in the moonlight, the hum of his voice. Everything about it was warm and wonderful and good. But I knew it was wrong.

Still, just as a secret for me, just for tonight, I allowed myself to drift to sleep thinking of a harvest moon somewhere in a different world. Somewhere where it would be okay to let myself relax in his arms. Where it would be okay to reach up and touch his face, to seal our dance with a kiss.

* * *

Volume 4

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T
he next day, Gallatin was not in the barn for morning chores. I went to the back stall, but other than Bully running around his mother, the space was empty. I couldn’t neglect the milking, but I felt conflicted. Something new was twisting in my chest.

I missed him. I wanted to suggest a creek run after lunch so I could get back on track and ask about the microchips, about their schedule for leaving. But to be completely honest, I just wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice.

As it was, I’d have to work like we were back at the beginning, and I had nothing to look forward to but another day of labor. It was a good thing, I decided. It kept my focus on escape. My
real
escape that is, not forbidden trips to a hidden creek.

I sat on my stool and gripped the teats, filling my bucket and emptying it into the churn, then going back and doing it again. The tone sounded and we all filed into lunch. Hamsters on a wheel, zombies in a pen. I’d grown used to seeing the men looking drugged and passive, the women keeping their eyes down. Only the occasional glance to me, the one who’d promised to do something. The one who’d once been a leader, and who’d since become distracted sneaking off with a guy. Maybe that was another part of their plan.

Maybe they knew everyone was looking to me to help them, and Gallatin was their secret weapon to keep me under control. I stole a look at the guards watching over how much we ate, still fussing over us cleaning our plates like somebody’s grandma, and I refused to believe it was true. Everything in me rejected the idea of Gallatin pretending to care for me, of his using our trips to the creek to disarm me or keep an eye on me. He couldn’t have predicted the accident with the calf. Then a tiny fear crept in, the smallest shadow of doubt. How did I know he couldn’t? And where was he now?

* * *

T
houghts of betrayal were heavy in my mind that afternoon. The idea of being used made my stomach hurt, it caused a pain in my heart I never expected and didn’t want to feel. Yet my logical mind insisted it was for the best. If Gallatin’s friendship was fake, it would be easier for me to use him right back. If I got him to admit everything was part of some kind of spy game or method of control, I could ask him about the chips and the mass graves without remorse.

Only I did feel remorse, painful remorse. I was sad and miserable. I longed for my new friend, my...

I wanted Gallatin to be truthful.

What had that guard told the men about what was happening here? The thing that had them all believing in little green men? I wanted to find Braxton and ask him about cutting ropes with only their eyes—the things D’Lo had said—and see if they matched. But Braxton wasn’t in the yard that afternoon. I didn’t see him anywhere. Flora was in the grove, but my brother was missing.

I ran around the yard, to the shed, down to the fence line. Finally, I went to the dorm. That’s where I found him in his bunk, lying on his side with his back to me.

“Braxton?” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Are you sick?”

“Leave me alone, Prentiss.”

His voice sounded like he might be crying, so I leaned over and placed my cheek on his shoulder.

“I’m working on it Braxton. Just give me one more day, and I’ll have what we need to know.”

“It doesn’t matter what you know. It doesn’t matter if we leave. Nothing matters anymore.”

“Don’t say that, Brax. I’m still here, our family matters.”

He leaned back and looked at me. “If you get out, go find Mamma’s people. Our family over in Mendenhall.”

My eyebrows pulled together. “I don’t know any of those people. What would I do there? Just show up on their doorstep?” His shoulder dropped, and I hugged him. “Stop that talk. You’re gonna come and live on the farm with me and Jackson.”

“There’s no more farm. There’s no more Jackson.”

“Yes, there is!” I sat up and pushed his body forward. “You stop acting like this. Now! I’m going to find out what we need, and you’re going to hang on with me until I do.”

He took a deep sigh, and I heard the ache in it. I leaned down and hugged him again. “Just stay with me, brother.”

* * *

T
he next morning after breakfast, when I entered the barn, Gallatin stood at the back wall waiting for me. In spite of all my plans to be strong and not care, I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face at the sight of him. He made a signal, and I stepped away from the group to meet him. When I got closer, he caught my arm and pulled me through the door.

“Will you come with me to the creek this afternoon? After lunch?” I didn’t understand the urgency, but he was leaning very close to me. His cheek brushed my temple as he spoke close to my ear, and my eyes closed.

Lemony soap mixed with hay filled my nose, and I wanted to reach out and hold his waist, make him tell me these new fears of mine were ridiculous. He’d never betray me. We were truly friends... But what was I doing?

I stepped back and turned to go back into the barn. “Yes.”

But he caught my hand. “It could be our last time.”

I glanced up, and the light in his golden-brown eyes was gone. He meant it. Something had happened.

* * *

O
ur chores were finished when I arrived after lunch. The cows were milked, the butter churned, and he was waiting for me at the back door. I ran over to join him, and quickly we dashed past the buildings at the base of the hill, stopping for the backpack, and then out the fence in record time.