Never Let You Go (17 page)

Anna’s face blazed, wet with tears. “You! You traitor! My best friend—again! Stealing, stealing—” She dissolved into tears.

Megan could hardly see straight. She grasped her friend’s hands tightly, trying to make Anna understand. “I know—I know how this looks. I—I don’t know what to say, except that it just
happened
and you have to believe me that there is no way on earth I would have ever intentionally hurt you again. Please believe me. I love you, you’re my best friend.” She squeezed Anna’s hands and stared into her face pleadingly.

Anna’s sobs stilled. The tears stopped coursing down her cheeks. She gazed off down the long double row of fruit trees. “Tell me,” she said quietly.

Megan told her—the day of Coothy and the truck breakdown and her talk with Jordan. Then the campfire and the note. This morning in the pasture with Sweetie. She didn’t mention her connection with Jordan that very first meeting in the kitchen. She didn’t mention anything Jordan had said about Anna herself.

Anna was quiet now. Encouraged, Megan said, “Anna, this is totally different from Mike.” She choked a little on his name. “This is . . .” She swallowed. “I feel like I’ve known him forever—like he understands me. I think this is it—the real thing.” She waited. Anna’s face was pale but composed.

After a moment, her friend spoke. “Does he love you?” Each word was distinct, falling on the silence, like raindrops hitting sand.

Megan nodded. “Yes,” she said simply.

Anna jumped, as if she’d been pricked with a pin.

Megan shifted uncomfortably. She realized just how close she and Anna had been sitting and moved back a few inches.

“So, all that time, he wasn’t really into me? He was into you?” Anna sounded calm now, almost casual, as if she were a reporter gathering information.

Megan looked away. “I—I don’t know. Maybe he was into you at the start, but then—” Too late, she realized her blunder.

“—but then he met you,” Anna finished quietly.

Megan couldn’t think of anything to say. She looked down at her lap and twisted a few green blades of grass together between her fingers. “Do you hate me?”

Anna seemed to be expecting the question. “No. Well, maybe a little.” She laughed dryly. “Who am I to stand in the way of love?”

“Thank you,” Megan whispered. She reached out tentatively. Anna stiffened but did not protest as Megan hugged her. “I’m sorry,” Megan said again.

“But not sorry enough to break up with him, right?” Anna’s voice was steady, and she gazed at Megan with clear eyes.

Megan swallowed. “Right.”

Anna considered Megan again, then climbed to her feet.

Megan reached out. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?” She knew how pitiful she sounded.

“I’m a big girl, Megan.” Anna smiled. Walking back a few steps, she laid her hand on Megan’s shoulder. “I can handle anything.”

CHAPTER 11

Megan reached into the straw-filled hollow and pulled out two speckled eggs. Carefully, she placed them in the empty egg carton. Outside, the rooster crowed loudly. Megan could hear him attacking the door, trying to get in.

Around her ankles, the hens strutted and pecked, clucking out their discontent at the intrusion. They wanted to be left alone in their world. Megan understood perfectly. She wished she had a little place to retreat to—maybe a room, with blankets instead of straw, and all her books and her music and a store of popcorn and butter cookies. A retreat somewhere far from painful conversations and tricky friendships and tense meals. She placed another egg, this one a smooth brown, into the carton.

Jordan had been up on a ladder when she and Anna had emerged from the trees. Anna had volunteered to go back to the farmhouse and clean up the breakfast dishes, even though Sarah
almost surely would have washed them already, and had hurried off toward the farm.

Megan plucked the last of the eggs from the nests. She emptied the old feed from the hens’ bowls, dumping it out the tiny window where the songbirds would eat it. She rinsed and refilled the water dishes and swept up the old sawdust from the floor. The work was soothing and mindless. She poured new feed from the big paper sack in the closet and watched as the hens hopped onto the edges of the bowls, pecking rapidly at the shiny kernels.

Megan took up the eggs and the broom, then tentatively opened the people door out of the henhouse. The rooster gave a cry of triumph and flapped forward to strike at her legs with his sharp, spurred feet.

“Get away!” Megan cried, poking at him with the broom. He attacked the handle like it was the enemy he’d been waiting for all his life.

“You want to go for a ride?” A voice spoke beside Megan’s ear.

Megan jumped, fumbling and almost dropping the double carton of eggs.

Anna raised her eyebrows. “Sorry.” She stood very close to Megan. Megan wondered how she had crept up so quietly.

“It’s okay.” Megan hesitantly raised her eyes to Anna’s face.

To her surprise, her friend was smiling. She’d changed her clothes and showered. Her wet hair was slicked back into a long braid that dangled halfway down her back. She wore a purple paisley tunic, and her toenails were freshly painted, ruby this
time. Megan was suddenly aware of the dust on her face and her dirty, rumpled T-shirt.

“Want to go for a ride?” Anna asked again. She jingled a set of keys beside her face.

“Sure,” Megan agreed enthusiastically. A wave of weepy thankfulness swept over her.
Anna isn’t mad! She still wants to be friends!
Megan felt like crying with relief. She wanted to throw her arms around Anna and thank her for her incredibly mature and generous spirit, but she contented herself with a big, soppy grin. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Anna thrust a plastic grocery sack into Megan’s hands. Inside were Megan’s swimsuit, a towel, and her sports sandals. Megan looked up quizzically, but Anna was already walking toward the farmhouse.

“Uncle Thomas said I could take the truck for a bit,” she called back over her shoulder. “I thought you and me should get away and talk.”

Megan hurried after her. It was almost twilight. “Um, where are we going?” she called hesitantly. “Maybe I’ll run back to the cabin and wash up. And put these eggs in the kitchen.”

Anna didn’t pause or turn around. “No,” she said. “Just leave them for a bit. They’ll be fine.”

In front of the farmhouse, Anna climbed into the truck and gunned the engine. Megan jumped in beside her, barely making it into the seat before Anna roared down the driveway. Megan’s door was still open, and she leaned out to slam it.

Out of breath, she flopped safely back into the cab. Anna was driving with one hand and lighting a cigarette with the other. Megan blinked. “I didn’t know you were smoking again.”

Anna flicked a little silver lighter. “Guess you don’t know everything, do you?” She put the lighter in the cup holder and puffed delicately.

Megan swallowed. “No, I don’t,” she said.

Anna didn’t reply.

I shouldn’t have come
, Megan thought. She could see now that Anna was like a live time bomb sitting beside her.

“So, where are we going?” Megan asked again. She was surprised at how calm her voice sounded.

“Just somewhere we can talk.” Anna sped down the road. She puffed at the cigarette rapidly. “You know, Meg, I was wrong this morning. I just got too worked up, you know?” She gestured with the cigarette, letting the smoke trail out the open window.

“Really?” Megan asked cautiously.

“Oh, yeah.” Skillfully, Anna lit a new cigarette from the butt of the first. “I was surprised, definitely. But the more I think about it, the more I think that you and Jordan really would be cute together. Whoops!” She screeched the truck to a halt in the middle of the road, pitching Megan forward. If she hadn’t been wearing her seat belt, she would have been thrown into the dashboard. Megan wasn’t totally sure that wasn’t the point.

“Almost missed the turn!” Anna turned the truck hard to the right and pulled onto a rough road but didn’t slacken her speed.

Megan hung on to the handle above her door and braced
herself against the dashboard with her other hand. She began to feel scared.
Where are we going?

Anna stopped in front of a copse of trees at the back of the field. It was full dark now. She dropped her cigarette to the floor of the truck and jumped out, disappearing into the woods.

Megan picked her way down. She could see the beam of Anna’s flashlight bobbing against the trunks. She hurried to keep up. She didn’t want to be left alone out in the lonely pasture.

Megan followed the purple print of Anna’s back through the stand of trees and out to another overgrown field. The moon had risen, and Megan could see that the grass was knee high. Anna didn’t look to see if Megan was following.

Megan struggled in her path, the long grass catching at her ankles.

“Hey, wait,” she called out breathlessly. She broke into a stumbling run, trying to lift her feet high. Anna made a sharp turn and disappeared down into a little valley.

She’s definitely acting strange, but she has had a big shock. You shouldn’t be surprised. Hopefully, we can just work through it.
Puffing and clutching the plastic bag in one hand, Megan followed and came to a big creek lined with brush. The water, murky under the night sky, rushed over rocks in foamy little waterfalls. In between, big, still pools reflected the moon. Anna was already standing on the bank, surveying the water, her hands on her hips.

Awkwardly, Megan crouched and edged sideways down the steep bank, grasping the branches of the shrubs for support, loose soil and small rocks sliding from under her sneakers. “Hey,” she
said as she finally made it to the bottom and stood next to Anna. “This creek is great. Did you used to come here when you were little?”

“All the time,” Anna replied. Then suddenly, she whipped her tunic off over her head, revealing a white bikini. “Come on, let’s swim!”

Megan started a little at the sudden change in her tone. “Um, in the dark?” She tried to sound casual instead of hesitant.

Anna raised her eyebrows. “Oh. Of course, I should’ve thought you’d be a pussy. . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m not scared,” Megan rejoined feebly. She set the grocery sack with her bathing suit down beside her. “It’s just, um, are there snakes in there?” She thought of water moccasins undulating on the surface of the pool like smooth brown eels. Or the scene in
Lonesome Dove
where the Irish cowboy gets bitten by dozens of cottonmouths when he rides his horse into a river.

“Probably,” Anna said cheerfully. Then she slipped gracefully into the water. Megan watched the flat surface, broken only by a few bubbles, for what seemed like a long time.

Finally, Anna came up, her head shiny as a wet seal’s. She paddled over toward the bank and waded out, water streaming from her body. “Come on, come swim.” Her eyes gleamed in the darkness. She tugged on Megan’s hand. Her skin was clammy. Megan shuddered a little. The thought of going in that cold, black water was repellent.

“No, thanks.” She shifted a little on the rock she was sitting on. “I’ll just watch you.”

“Oh, come on!” Anna urged. She backed up, still holding Megan’s hand. Megan felt herself slide forward a little.

She held on to the side of the rock. “I said no!” Her voice was louder than she intended.

A film dropped over Anna’s face. Megan bit her lip, but she forced herself to stay on the rock. Nothing could make her get into that inky water.

Then Anna shrugged. “Okay.” She turned and slid sinuously under the water again.

Megan let out her breath, watching Anna swim across the pool, up to the water rushing over a collection of boulders. Like a creature born of this place, Anna delicately picked her way over the rocks, until she reached another large pool of water on the opposite side.

She’s still mad. Pissed off. Not surprising, of course. Just stay calm. Let her get it out.
Megan shivered slightly and rubbed her upper arms, which were pimpled with goose bumps. She wondered how long Anna wanted to stay out here. She must be freezing from swimming, and they weren’t doing much talking, if that’s what was really the purpose of their trip.

Idly, Megan ran her fingers over the edge of the rock she sat on. A chunk came off in her hand and she looked at it, surprised. It wasn’t granite, as she’d thought, but some sort of hard, crumbly claylike stuff. It smelled like pottery class.

“Shale.”

Megan started, dropping the rock, which fell into the water with a
plunk
.

Anna stood behind her.

“How’d you get up there?” Megan asked a little shakily.

“Walked.” Anna perched beside Megan, and clasped her arms around her wet knees, looking like a wood sprite in the unearthly silver moonlight. “That’s shale, that crumbly rock. It’s supposed to be good for your skin too. Here, watch.”

Anna reached down and broke off a piece as Megan had, then laid it on the rock beside her and pounded it swiftly with another, harder rock. The shale broke into powdery chunks, which Anna then ground and mixed with creek water until she had a smooth clay. She scooped it into her hands and methodically smeared it all over her face.
It looks like a Halloween mask
, Megan thought, as Anna’s bright eyes peered out from the rough mud.

“Here, you try it.” Anna reached toward Megan’s face with a handful.

Megan was tempted to say no, but she let Anna smear the stuff on her. As her friend’s hands moved gently over her skin, Megan felt herself relax in spite of herself. The mud was actually kind of soothing. So close to hers, Anna’s face was suddenly familiar and dear, like that of a sister.

“Cool,” Megan said, touching her own face gently. The mud was already hardening, making it hard to talk. “Where’d you learn about that?” She had to articulate carefully to get the words out. “I had no idea you were such an earth mother.”

To Megan’s relief, Anna laughed. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Really? We’ve been best friends since first grade,” Megan said, surprised, and stretched out her legs.