Page 145 of The Outsider

The rest of the meeting dealt with increasing security. The Order was an active threat, especially now that we knew they were in the area. The only thing that saved our asses was that they didn’t know about the Valley, and that they weren’t able to track Claire here.

We decided that nobody would be allowed to leave the Valley without getting permission. Scavvers had to sign in and out with Danny at the command center before coming or going. Outriders would pull double patrol shifts until further notice so that there were more of us on duty at a time.

It was necessary, but it meant that I went from patrolling four days a week to patrolling almost every day for up to twelve hours at a time, effective immediately. For the next couple weeks, Claire and Kimmyhad to pick up my slack around the farm, especially because it was planting season. I hated it, but it couldn’t be helped.

The real problem that ate away at me during that time, though, was that Claire was obviously not handling things well. After the meeting, where she’d been so strong, she’d become lifeless. She got up and worked the farm every day like she was on autopilot, then went to teach. Kimmy told me she’d stopped eating enough. The most obvious sign, though, was that her nightmares—which had slowly gone away after we reached the Valley—came back with a vengeance.

I was startled awake by her fist in my ribs, her hoarse scream splitting the night.

“Claire!” I tried to bear-hug her to stop her thrashing, but that instantly made her fight me.

“Let me go,” she sobbed, flopping like a fish.

“It’s me, baby!” I said firmly, and she suddenly went limp in my arms, panting and shaking. “It’s just me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after a long silence, but she didn’t shed a tear when she was awake. She got quiet and detached again, and didn’t sleep a wink.

Every time I saw her, it was like someone had snuffed out her spark. She was so distant, and nothing seemed to reach her. Even our upcoming wedding didn’t seem important to her anymore. It scared the hell out of me.

Tears, I could handle. Anger, even. But not her freezing me out. The thing was, I knew Claire; when she was hurt or afraid, she hid. It was what she’d done when we first met. It was why it took an attack that nearly killed her to tell me she loved me. Back then, I’d tried to respect her need for space, not realizing it only made the problem worse. I’d learned that while space may be what she wanted, it was almost never what she actually needed.

Three weeks after the attack on the Post, I called in a favour so I could have the day off. Even besides my worry for her, I missed my girl. The days on horseback were long and lonely, and I missed her voice, her laughter. Sharing about our days and holding her until she fell asleep. Going on rides with her. Making love to her. She made my days better just by being in them.

It was another warm, sunny June day, though clouds threatened in the distance. After morning chores were done on the farm, it wasnearly noon, and I asked Claire to come with me to Glacier Lake at the centre of the Valley for a picnic.

“It’s a date, then,” I said, pecking her lips. “Wear something that makes you feel pretty.”

She didn’t have much of a reaction to my request, but she at least got ready to leave and waited patiently on the porch for me to bring the truck around. She wore a pretty yellow gingham sundress that I’d never seen before, and she’d twisted her hair into a half-up style with a white ribbon.

“This new?” I asked, nodding at the dress.

She nodded a little shyly. “I asked Nimkii to make a few things for the summer. Traded her a few months of language lessons for her son.”

“Could’ve just taken a PNC from the safe if you wanted.”

She shook her head. “I wanted to do it. Do you like it?

“I love it,” I murmured, giving her a kiss before I led her to the truck.

Claire gave me a look of surprise at the canoe strapped to the truck bed.

“Where was that all this time?”

“In storage,” I replied with a small smile. “Granddad and I built it when I was a teenager. I use it to fish sometimes in the summer. Thought you might like to go out on the lake after lunch, since it’s a nice day.”

“Alright.” Her reaction was muted, lifeless, and that only made me more determined to shake her out of her numbness.

Claire was quiet as I drove. When we reached the small lake, we were lucky to have it to ourselves. I parked by the lakeside, then spread out the blanket while Claire unpacked the picnic basket. We sat and ate in near-silence. Her face was still closed off, and she picked at her food.

After lunch, we pushed the canoe into the water and climbed in. The sun was warm, and Claire tipped her face up, which was the first time I’d seen her actively enjoy anything in a couple of weeks. I paddled out to the middle of the lake, where the water was clear, and the view was best. More importantly, we were totally alone and wouldn’t be overheard.

That’d always been when she and I had talked the most back at the camp: out in the woods, where we might as well have been the last two people on Earth. She seemed to feel freer out in the wilderness—freer to speak her mind,to be herself.

I watched Claire carefully, but she didn’t glance in my direction. I got the feeling she was trying not to make eye contact.

“Claire,” I said cautiously, “we should talk.”

“Oh?” she answered, her voice flat and emotionless.

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