Page 17 of Scatter the Bones

“Yeah, maybe.” I lift my chin toward the driveway leading off the farm. “Heard the truck. Thought it might be his people coming back.”

“Sorry.” He blows out a breath. “How’s…” His voice trails off like he can’t find the words to ask how killing my father went.

“He’s cooking in the barn.”

Logan nods once, face blank. He knows almost all of my darkest secrets and what my plans were for my father. He won’t press for details.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“A woman and her son are still here. If you can help me move them along, that’d be great. The rest of them left.”

“You got it.” He slaps my shoulder, quick and reassuring. “Jezzie okay?”

“No but she will be once I get her away from here.”

Inside, it’s silent.

“They should be in my father’s office.” I jerk my head to the side, silently asking him to follow.

Logan doesn’t waste time gawking at the frozen-in-time house I grew up in. He’d been inside at least once before he moved up north.

The office door is closed. I knock twice and push it open.

“It’s just me.”

Ruth’s standing in the middle of the room and slowly lowers her arms to her sides as we enter—as if she’d been trying to protect the kids from intruders.

Jezzie peeks out from behind the desk. She scowls at Logan, then recognition seems to sink in. “Logan?”

“Hey, Jezzie.”

Cain’s sitting in a chair in the corner, hugging a small, overstuffed backpack to his chest, ignoring all of us.

Ruth watches both of us with concerned eyes. I hold up my hands. “I didn’t know he was coming. He’s just here to check on me.”

She nods once and slowly edges toward her son.

Logan leans closer to me. “I can wait outside.”

“Jensen, there are a few things I’d like to take from the house, if that’s okay,” Ruth says, staring at the ground like my father probably trained her to do when speaking to him. “We’re taking the van.”

“Yeah.” Relief floods through me. Anything to get her going.Take the whole fucking house, lady. I’m planning to burn it down anyway.“Whatever you want.”

“I’ll help her load it up,” Logan offers.

Another hour later,Logan has the van backed up to the front porch with the doors open wide. Dust from the gravel drive floats in the air, mixing with the scent of old wood, fresh grass, and exhaust fumes. Inside the van, a few pieces of furniture are strapped down—an old wooden rocking chair, a few suitcases, a weathered cedar chest, a heavy antique sewing machine, and a box of cast iron pans.

“All right, Cain, say goodbye,” Ruth says, her voice tight but steady.

“No!” Cain bolts toward Jezzie and throws his arms around her. She hugs him back, bends down, and whispers something in his ear. Whatever she says makes him shake his head violently, tears streaking down his cheeks.

It’s the first real emotion I’ve seen from him all day.

The first sliver of doubt needles its way inside me.

But I don’t know what else to do.

My aunt agreed to take care of Jezzie—her niece. Showing up with my father’s widow and her kid inadditionto Jezzie, isn’t an option.

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