Chapter Fourteen. Morning came early on Burninghead Farm, well before the sun rose over the eastern slope

Morning came early on Burninghead Farm, well before the sun rose over the eastern slope. There was simply too much to do for it to be any different. Duncan supposed it had always been that way here, even before the plague and all the extra mouths to feed. And now…well, now there was just always more work to be done.

Except this morning, it seemed. His crew had finished planting the posts for the wall early the day before and had spent the rest of the day shoring up all the posts with an extra layer of cement, which they needed to let set at least another twelve hours before beginning on the crossbeams. They would have to wait until tomorrow, which left Duncan with only the list of daily jobs to sign up for. It was not that he minded the little jobs. Duncan knew mucking out the stalls or milking the cows or, Lord help him, even cleaning the chicken coop could make him just as sweaty and satisfied as working with a crew on one of the bigger jobs. Still, he would much rather have been working on that wall.

Like most days when Duncan only had smaller chores to keep him occupied, he found himself with more free time than he knew what to do with. Duncan rose early, earlier than the roosters and the sunshine, even earlier than Franny and her breakfast crew. This morning had been no different, and consequently, he had already finished half the horse stalls before Kate had arrived just before dawn. Kate worked the stalls each morning before school started. She did not have to since she had a full time job on the farm, but she did it anyway. She loved horses, had loved them since her momma had read her Black Beauty when she was four, or so she had said. Kate went riding as often as she could, usually after school but before dinner, or for longer rides on the weekend. Duncan had been out with her a few times, though he did not have the same passion for it as Kate. He had grown up around horses, but the truth was he was a bit scared of them, with their enormous heads and giant teeth and their tendency to have minds of their own. Of course, Duncan would never admit he was scared. Men were not afraid of such things. They were strong and worked hard and did what was asked of them and defended the people they loved. They were certainly not afraid of horses.

Duncan heard Kate’s arrival, heard the soft hello as she settled into an easy rhythm beside him. Duncan frowned. Kate had been unusually quiet at dinner the night before, brushing off Duncan’s attempts first at conversation, then at discovery. This morning she seemed even more in her head, lost somewhere she apparently did not want to be found. Duncan thought about trying again, but then thought better of it. He figured he knew the cause anyway, and talking to Kate about it was not going to solve anything.

Which was how he found himself leaning back against the steps of Buck’s farmhouse later, watching the sun spread its golden glow across the farm. If he was going to find out what was going on with Kate, he needed to seek out what he assumed was the source of her silence.

“Well, good morning.”

Duncan turned. Margie stood just inside the screen door, steam rising from the coffee cup clenched in her hand. She blew across the cup’s surface before taking a sip.

“Morning, ma’am.”

“Don’t you ma’am me, Duncan,” Margie said, frowning. “I’m not that old yet.”

“No, ma’—I mean, no Margie,” Duncan replied, shaking his head.

“That’s better,” she said, giving Duncan a bright smile. “What brings you up here this fine morning? You planning to join the music class later?”

Duncan brightened. He had nearly forgotten it was Wednesday. He usually missed music class because he was out working, but every now and again he found himself with no big job to do, like today.

“If that would be all right?” he asked hopefully.

Margie dismissed Duncan’s insecurity with a wave of her hand. “Pfft. You know you’re always welcome. You’re one of Dad’s favorite students.”

Duncan beamed, both pride and joy settling into his cheeks in equal measure.

“Taylor’s awake, if you wanna go up and see her.”

Duncan nodded. It wasn’t the first time he had visited since Taylor’s collapse, but it would be the first time she was awake for it. It was the whole reason he was there.

Margie held open the screen door for Duncan as he slipped past her and made his way up the stairs. He knocked lightly on the door, just in case she was not as awake as Margie had said. A muffled response from inside the room indicated she was.

Duncan eased himself into the room. Taylor was propped up in the bed, watching him. He noticed the flicker of disappointment, which was quickly replaced by a slight smile.

“Hey, Dunk.”

“Hey,” he responded, stopping near the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Taylor said quickly. “Better than yesterday.”

Duncan sensed a restlessness in Taylor, not that it was anything new. She had seemed restless since she had first arrived. But this seemed different somehow, deeper and more consuming. He wondered how much was caused by her current condition, and how much stemmed from something—or someone—else.

“Well, you’ll have to take it easy for a few days, get your strength back.”

“So everyone keeps telling me,” Taylor said, clearly not happy with the plan.

“You had some people worried,” Duncan said. He thought about elaborating, but held his tongue. Instead, he added, “You look better.”

“Better than what?”

“Better than before.”

Taylor eyed him. Duncan scuffed his foot against the carpet.

“You visited me.”

It was more a statement than a question, and it made Duncan a bit uncomfortable. Still, he held his ground. He returned her gaze.

“Yeah. That’s what friends do.”

It was presumptuous of him. He knew that, and yet it felt right somehow, both the idea and the voicing of it. He wanted them to be friends. He watched her closely, waiting for her reaction. Finally, Taylor nodded her acceptance.

“Thanks for that,” she said, with no trace of insincerity or condemnation. Duncan rocked on his heels. He felt happier than he could recall feeling in a long time.

“Dunk?”

“Yeah?”

“Sit,” she commanded, although her smile belied the authoritative way in which she said it. “You’re making me nervous.”

Duncan smiled. He grabbed a chair and slid it up next to the bed, straddling it backward, resting his forearms across the back. They sat quietly for a while, Taylor not seeming to have anything pressing on her mind, while Duncan tried to figure out how to ask what he wanted to know. Despite her seeming acceptance of his offer of friendship, and his existing friendship with Kate, he was not sure if it was his place to interfere. In fact, he was pretty sure it was most definitely not his place. He disliked meddlers, and he had come to see Taylor with the intention of meddling, which bothered him. But Kate was clearly upset, and it was not too hard, at least not to anyone paying even the slightest bit of attention, to figure out the reason probably rested with Taylor.

“Spit it out, Dunk.”

“Huh?” he said, startled.

“You obviously have something on your mind.”

“I…well…I’m not sure…” Duncan sputtered, internally cursing his inability to articulate anything at all.

“I’m not going to bite,” she said, her voice holding an unexpected kindness. Not that she was unkind.

He smiled nervously. “Well, it’s just that…I was wondering why…I mean…”

Duncan paused, letting out a deep breath.

Focus, Duncan. Just say what you mean.

Taylor sat there, patiently waiting. He was grateful for that, and it gave him the confidence he needed.

“I know you haven’t been here all that long,” he began, trying to put his question into some kind of coherent context, “but it’s pretty clear, or it seems pretty clear, to me anyway, that there’s something going on. Between you and Kate.”

Taylor sucked in a breath, but she stayed quiet.

“I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that, ’cause there’s not. Nothing at all. It’s totally fine, in fact. Everyone here knows Kate’s gay, and Buck made it clear that it was a non-issue on the farm. Not that anyone would have an issue. I definitely don’t.”

Duncan knew he was rambling, but he could not seem to help it. He had developed the worst case of verbal diarrhea he had ever had, but he knew if he didn’t keep going he would never finish.

“I’m saying this all wrong,” he continued, shaking his head. “I’m just wondering, I guess, if…if you have feelings. For her.”

Taylor let out a deep breath and examined the fibers of the blanket. Duncan waited for her to respond, to say something. Anything at all.

“Why are you asking me this?” she finally said. She picked at the blanket covering the bed, keeping her eyes averted.

Duncan thought of Kate, of what she meant to him, and it filled him with a confidence he had only occasionally felt before. The same confidence he had held within himself that night with Zeke.

“Like I said, she’s like a sister to me,” Duncan responded. He had lost his hesitation. “And I don’t want to see her get hurt. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Taylor agreed sadly.

“But last night at dinner, and this morning, she was quiet. See, Kate’s normally like this force of nature. She can make you happy just by walking into a room. She cares about everyone.”

“I know.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I came here to ask you because Kate won’t talk about it. But the truth is, I don’t need to know. All I really need to know is whether you care about her, or whether the pain she’s feeling is pointless.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

It was a simple statement, but to Duncan, it spoke volumes.

“Then don’t,” Duncan answered. It was clear she was struggling. He wanted to put an arm around her and would have if he did not think she would reject it.

“It’s not that simple,” Taylor said sadly.

“Sure it is. Look, I may not be the brightest guy around, and I know I’m young, but I do know a few things. One of them is that a person always has a choice, even if it’s a hard one. And this situation? This thing between you two? If you care about her, it doesn’t seem all that hard.”

“What if I don’t know how?”

Her voice was small, fragile. She seemed almost helpless.

“Know how to what? How to not hurt her?”

“How to care.”

They were such little words, but they left Duncan reeling. Taylor’s desolation was overwhelming. Even when the plague had come and stopped the world cold, even when his parents had died, stealing away everything Duncan had ever known, even when he was scared and alone in the dead of night, with nowhere to go and no one to go to, he had never lost himself.

Taylor, apparently, had not been so lucky.

“It’s all a choice,” Duncan said. “You have to choose to care, and the how will follow.”

Taylor nodded, but Duncan was not convinced she had truly understood him. He struggled to figure out what he could say that would break through the hardened bricks of misery that had become her world. He started to speak, but Taylor beat him to it.

“What’s going on down there?”

It took Duncan a moment to catch up. He smiled as the excited voices of the farm’s youngest residents filtered into the room.

“It’s Wednesday,” he said, his own excitement rising. “Time for music class.”

“You’re kidding,” Taylor said, her face a mask of incredulity. Duncan thought she could not have looked more surprised if a UFO had just landed on the front lawn.

“Nope,” he said, standing up. He had an idea, and he was not about to take no for an answer. “Get dressed.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Come on,” he said, grabbing a shirt and a pair of jeans from the top of the dresser and tossing them onto the bed. “Time’s a wastin’.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “Oh no. I’m not going down there.”

“Why? You got something better to do today?”

Taylor crossed her arms across her chest, as if that ended the conversation. But Duncan was not about to let it. He crossed his own arms, a mocking reflection of Taylor’s pose. She frowned.

“Dunk,” she said warningly, but he stood firm. If she was ever going to allow herself to be happy, she needed to be reminded of what happiness was. Even if he had to force it down her throat and hold her mouth closed while she swallowed.

“Tay-lor,” he responded in the sing-song whine he had mastered as a child, frustrating Taylor even more. Her frown slid into a scowl.

“No.”

Duncan just kept smiling at her with his arms folded.

“Du-unk,” she said, her voice taking on its own whine. “I’m still not feeling all that well. I need to rest.”

“What you need,” Duncan corrected as he flipped the blanket and sheets off Taylor’s lap and down toward the bottom of the bed, “is to get out of this bed and live a little.”

Taylor’s expression was caught somewhere between a pout and an indignant scowl. Duncan decided to really push her buttons.

“What’s the matter? Is big, bad Taylor scared of a bunch of kids?”

Taylor growled at him, making Duncan jump back half a step. If Taylor had been feeling better, Duncan would have turned tail and run out the door. He knew full well she could kick his ass all the way to the cow pasture.

He laughed a little nervously as she swiped up the pants from the bottom of the bed, shooting large, pointy daggers at him with her eyes all the while.

“I’ll just give you a little privacy,” he said, shuffling toward the door. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

He could not quite make out the words she was muttering under her breath, but he caught enough to know she was not going to offer to buy him a thank-you dinner anytime soon. Not that there were any restaurants to take him to, anyway. He shut the door behind him and leaned against the hallway wall, waiting.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-31