Page 60 of Unwanted Vows

Austin broke in. “For tonight, I’d like to take everyone up to the Bunker.”

“Are you sure?” Charles Emory asks.

“Yes,” Austin says firmly. “As it is right now, my guys are spread thin, trying to cover the clinic, the orchards, the pack-up of the fair grounds, and five different family homes.”

“But . . . the wine tasting,” Mimi Quinn says. “It’s a tradition.”

“One that I think we had best skip this year,” Pops Quinn says. “I’ll make an announcement. Meanwhile, I like the idea of getting everyone into one extra secure spot. I’ve had an itch between my shoulder blades all week.”

“Moving again,” I murmur.

Austin says, “No, I hope not. Think of this as a giant sleepover. We can pack up the wine, I think most of the tasters are family, and we can have a giant party.” He grins like a Cheshire Cat. “It will be fun!”

In just a few minutes, we are packed into big, comfortable buses, and headed up the hill to Freedom Mountain. The children and the people caring for them have joined the company. By mutual consent, Andrew and I share a seat with Paul wedged in between us. Neither of us want to let him out of our sight.

We sit quietly for a few minutes while the bus rumbles along. Then Paul breaks the silence. “Is this like a bus for soldiers to ride on?” he asks.

Andrew and I exchange a glance over his head. “No,” Andrew replies. “More like a tour bus. Although I believe Charles and Austin have a fleet of them, and they do use them for moving workers about.”

“Will you have buses like these?” Paul asks. “Cause you are inheriting your Grandpa’s business, right? That’s what Aunt Rylie said when she came to get us.”

“I’m really not sure,” Andrew says. “You know how you start a new class in school, and you aren’t quite sure how it will go?”

Paul nods.

Andrew looks over at me again. “It’s kind of like that. I know I will have things to do, and learn, and probably a lot of changes to make. But right now, I’m not even completely sure where the school is.”

Paul giggles. It’s a tiny little, nervous giggle, but it lets me know that he will be alright. “I know how that is. I’ve had three different schools because we move around a lot.”

I look over at Maddy, and she is suddenly extremely interested in a broken piece of upholstery on the back of the seat ahead of us. “I should have come back when Dad asked me to,” Andrew says.

“Judging by today, I’m not sure it would have been better,” I say. “Mostly the moves were upgrades, as I got promotions and better salaries. But I felt better if we moved every now and then. It seemed safer.”

Andrew stretched his arm along the back of the bench seat, just above Paul’s head. His hand is open, inviting but not demanding. “Maddy . ..” he says.

“You didn’t know,” I say, reaching across my body to place my right hand in his. “You don’t need to keep apologizing. We need to go forward. What happens now?”

He gently tightens his fingers around mine, as if my hand might be a lifeline. “I find where the bodies are buried, and how many doors the threads of Grandfather’s machinations run under. I won’t tell you that it will be easy or safe, but I will do the best I can for you.”

Paul looks up at me big-eyed and serious. “Bodies?” he asks.

“Figure of speech,” I tell my son, before addressing Andrew, “Although I thought your father was dead, because that’s what his grandfather told me.”

Andrew smiles thinly.“Probably what Grandfather meant was that I was dead to him because I didn’t stay and help run his petty kingdom. Although my people did set about the rumor that our whole team was dead at one point – we were safer that way.”

Paul looked up at us, first at me, then at his father. “You look pretty alive to me,” he says. “Unless maybe you are a zombie. Could he be a zombie?” he asks, teasingly, but perhaps a trifle serious.

“No,” I say. “Zombies are a made-up scary thing, just like BigFoot, or jackalopes.”

Andrew laughs. “There was a guy in northern California that made unicorns.”

“You are kidding,” I say.

“Nope,” he says. “He took baby goats, treated their horn buds so they moved together in the center of their heads, and twisted their soft baby horns together.”

“Yuck!” Paul says emphatically.

“You said it,” Andrew agreed. “And this was from a dude that claimed to love nature. He was a decent musician, but not an especially nice person.”

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