“Greer, do you want to marry me?”
“You know I do!” He ran a shaking hand through his hair.
“You still want to have children?”
“You know I do.”
“Then we might as well settle this now. I’m not going to spank our children. It’s Dustin’s job to punish Logan. You should stay out of it. Besides, I have every faith Dustin will find a punishment that will equal the spanking you want to give him.”
Greer had a hot temper. He might as well learn now that she wouldn’t consider spankings an option.
“Fine, have it your way!”
Holly was relieved that Greer could be sensible to her wishes and considerations. Then he blew it.
“But if I don’t like the punishment Dustin gives him, I’m still giving him the ass whipping.” He stormed into the house, the screen door slamming closed behind him.
Holly went inside, glad to see Logan wasn’t bent over Dustin’s knee. Instead, the boy was eating his hot dog with a huge mound of potato chips on his plate and two cookies.
Rachel and Sutton sat by the boy. From their eyes, she realized the women were standing guard, making sure he didn’t get the spanking and didn’t get relieved of the cookies they had given him.
Holly went to the kitchen to make herself a plate, moving to the side to get past Tate as he made his.
She had reached for a plate when she heard the sound of breaking glass. Startled, she turned to see Tate pale as a ghost, clutching the counter, his plate of food on the floor.
“Tate, are you okay?” Frightened, she saw his eyes focus on her, then his family as they stood up from the table.
“I’m fine. Finish your meal.” He started to bend down to pick up the plate.
“I’ll do it.” Sutton cast her husband a worried glance, taking out the broom and dustpan from the pantry. “Go sit down. I’ll make you another plate.”
“I’m not hungry.” Tate went to sit down with his family.
Holly had lost her appetite at seeing the Porters staring at each other. Apprehensively, she sat down beside Greer, her hand going to his knee under the table.
“You heard them, didn’t you?” Greer asked, putting his hand over hers.
“Yes.”
“What did he hear?” Holly stared at them, waiting for someone to answer. It was Greer.
“Logan, go sit on the couch and eat your food.”
Not wanting to press his luck, Logan carried his plate to the other room.
Greer waited until Dustin went into the living room and turned on cartoons before coming back. “He heard the death bells. It makes twice he heard them this month.”
“Does that mean something?”
“It means Death is close. Someone Tate has come into contact with today is going to …”
“He was in the kitchen with me. Is it me?” Holly still didn’t really believe in the Porters’ gift, but faced with her possible mortality, it sent a spine-chilling finger up her back.
“No, it could have been someone he was around this morning or this afternoon. There was a large group of men who arrived at the lake when we were there.”
“Should we cancel the wedding?”
Greer pushed his food away. “It wouldn’t matter. We can’t stop it. It could be tonight, tomorrow, or next week when Death strikes. That’s why they just give us warning, so we can’t prevent it from happening.”
“This is creeping me out.” She leaned against Greer, letting his strength warm her. Then she frowned when he pulled away.
At first, she was hurt. Then she realized what he was doing. He was conserving his strength. She stared, focusing on the family around the table and thinking how many times they had asked her to leave the room with Logan. Keeping this part of their family to themselves, they had asked Logan to go into the other room, because he was too young. They hadn’t asked her to leave this time, because she was now a part of their family. It was time she started acting like it.
Straightening her spine, she was replaying Sutton’s talk earlier that day about the Porters’ gifts.
“We can cancel the wedding,” Holly said absentmindedly, still replaying the earlier conversation.
“We’re not canceling the wedding. How do we know if changing the wedding is how the opportunity to kill someone is accomplished?”
“Why would Dustin be given dreams, Tate the ability to hear Death’s bells, and you and Rachel healing if who is giving you your gifts doesn’t want you to be able do anything about it?” she asked more to herself.
“Because there is always a price to be paid.” Tate’s bleak eyes met Greer’s.
“What kind of price?”
“Like when Greer saved Pa’s life from the still explosion. If he had died that night, our mother might still be alive. Then there’s Dustin’s dream of dying from a heart attack. We knew it was our grandmother and warned her. We begged her to go to the doctor, but she wouldn’t. She said she didn’t want us to pay the price for warning her.”
“Your grandmother had gifts, too?” Holly asked, sitting on the edge of her seat.
“Yes, it’s handed down from generation to generation.”
Her hand tightened on the table. “What was your mother’s gift?”
“She could hear the death bells like Tate.”
“Your grandmother’s?”
“She had the same gift as me,” Rachel spoke, and Cash moved his chair protectively closer to hers.
“Did your grandmother ever mention the gifts of her parents?”
“She was a full-blooded Cherokee. Granny said that our father wouldn’t let her talk about her family. He said it was hogwash.”
“Surely, someone in your family would know.”
Everyone at the table shook their heads.
“Does Drake have a gift? He’s a Porter.”
“Drake’s ma is our pa’s sister. Our gifts come from our ma’s side of the family.
“So, none of you have searched your ancestry?” She stared earnestly around the table. “If you don’t know what all your ancestors’ gifts were, other gifts could have been missed. How old were you all when you started seeing signs of your gifts?”
“I was four,” Greer answered immediately.
“I was six,” Tate answered next.
“I was around six.” Rachel looked at Dustin, waiting for his answer.
“Ma said I was three when I started having nightmares. What does it matter how old we were …?”
The whole table looked toward the living room, their mouths hanging open, looking to where Logan was watching the movie on the television.
“I don’t think that you were given gifts without the ability to stop them. I just don’t think you were looking in the right direction for your answer.”
28
“We would have known,” Dustin said hoarsely.
“Not if he hasn’t inherited the same gifts. Would you know if he inherited gifts from an ancestor and it wasn’t remembered because the information had become lost from generations before you?”
“We would know, because it’s not exactly like we hide it.”
“I lived with you every day and never knew. I knew Rachel gave massages, but not that she was using her gift to heal.”
“That’s because we didn’t want you to know. We didn’t want anyone to know. Half of the town thinks she’s a charlatan.”
“The other half knows she isn’t.” Tate didn’t take his eyes off Logan.
“He doesn’t have dreams; I know that. I sleep with him most nights, and he doesn’t have nightmares.”
“Maybe they aren’t nightmares. They could be dreams to him.”
Dustin stood up, his hands going to the back of his chair. “He never talks about any dream in particular he’s had. And he’s not shown any signs of Rachel or Greer’s gift, and he’s not heard bells ringing. He would have said something.”
Holly agreed with Dustin, thinking of anything out of the norm that Logan did. She could t
ell the Porters were doing the same.
“Ask him,” Holly urged, trying to think of a way for them to ask, when suddenly she reached for Greer’s arm. “Oh, God.”
“What?” Greer looked at her, seeing she had thought of something.
“He draws, Dustin. A lot. He’s constantly asking for something to draw on. I bought him a pad of construction paper to draw on. It’s in the house in his bedroom.”
“He drew me a picture before he went to take a nap in my spare room. I put it on the refrigerator,” Sutton said.
Dustin hurried into the kitchen, coming back to the table ashen faced. He turned the picture so they could see. On the paper was a puppy playing in the grass.
Tate took the picture from him. “He said he had seen the puppy from the window. That’s why he left the house to try to catch it. He drew this before he went into the bedroom?”
“Yes.” Sutton took the picture from him.
“Logan, come here!” Greer shouted for his nephew.
“Don’t scare him. He could have seen the puppy from the window from over there.” Holly nodded her head toward the dining room window at their backs. “That may be why he drew it.”
Greer relaxed, the others trying to do the same.
Logan went to Greer, resting his arm on Greer’s shoulder. “Yes, Uncle Greer?”
Holly couldn’t explain the unfurling love she felt for the two people she loved most in the world.
Greer came across as self-centered, because he was, but like a tree, he sheltered his family, holding himself back so when they needed him, he would be able to make sure they were safe. Logan was young and weak like a little sapling, and Greer, being an ego maniac, wanted his nephew to grow tall and strong. He wanted all his family to prosper and do well. He didn’t take one trait after his father. His love wasn’t borne out of fear and pride. It was borne out of self-sacrifice and enduring loyalty. That lesson he had learned from his mother, his grandmother, and those before them; it was a lesson Greer would pass on to their child, just as he had done for Logan.
Despite Greer’s threats to spank him, Logan had no fear to touch his uncle. The bond between the two made it apparent that Greer would be a wonderful father, putting her fears to rest.
“Why did you draw the picture of the puppy?”
Logan shrugged. “I like to draw pictures I see in my head.”
“Did you see that puppy before you drew it?”
“No.”
“How much did the puppy you drew look like the puppy you saw from the window?”
“Not a lot. I didn’t have my colors, so I couldn’t color him brown.”
“Was the puppy outside brown?”
“Yes. And it had a spot there.” Logan touched the patch of black on the puppy’s side that he had shaded in with the ink pen.
“Is that why you went outside, because he looked like the one in your picture?”
Logan lowered his lashes as if he would get in trouble if he answered.
“You won’t get in trouble. Answer your uncle’s question.”
“Yes.”
“Has that happened before? Have you drawn something then saw it?”
“Sometimes.”
“Can I see your pictures?”
“They’re in my room.”
Greer stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Logan took Greer’s seat, swinging his feet. “Can I have another cookie?”
Holly started to tell him no then took one from the cookie tray, breaking it in half to give him and nibbling on the other half.
Five minutes later, when Greer didn’t come back, she started to get worried. Trying to ease her fears, she broke another cookie in half, giving it to Logan and eating the other half herself.
When ten minutes passed and Greer hadn’t returned, Tate called him. “What’s taking so long?”
“Okay.” Hanging up the phone, he told them Greer was on his way back.
Another five minutes passed, and no Greer. Holly couldn’t take it another minute, about to go see what was taking him so long when she heard the four-wheeler he had taken coming back. She was beginning to feel foolish for overreacting when Greer came to the door, not making a move to come inside.
“Tate and Dustin, come outside. We need to talk.” His furious expression had the men going to the door.
“Logan, stay here.” Holly headed outside.
Rachel handed Ema to Cash, going with her. The men looked at them as they stepped out onto the porch but didn’t ask them to leave.
“What’s wrong?” Holly kept her voice low, so Logan wouldn’t hear.
“Someone broke down the old outhouse.”
“Why would they break down an old outhouse?”
Holly hadn’t even known what it was when she had moved into the Porters’ house. Rachel had laughingly told her what it was when she had seen the small, tiny building sitting on the small rise of the hill beside the barn.
“That’s where we keep our stash.”
“You keep it in an outhouse?” She was revolted at the thought of them hiding their stash in a glorified cesspool.
“We never used it the way you’re thinking. Pa had that one built as a hidey hole. The one we used before Pa built that was on the other side of the house. We tore it down ten years ago and covered it with dirt. The outhouse by the barn was where we could keep an eye on our stash, and no one would search for it there.”
Tate slammed his fist down on front porch post. “Son of a fucking bitch! No one knew it was there. We never went there until pitch dark. Greer, did you tell?”
“Course not! I may have shown her those quilts, but I never told her about the outhouse?”
“You, Dustin?”
“No!”
“Then how could anyone have known?”
“I don’t know, but I will find out when whoever stole it starts selling it.” Greer bleakly stared out at the road that led to his house. “All that work for nothing. Another two days, and it would have been gone. I had already promised everything out. I would have made their deliveries after the wedding.”
“Did anyone know when you were going to make the deliveries?” Holly went to Greer, rubbing his arm and trying to make him feel better.
“No, I usually just tell them it’s going to be a week or later, so no one can figure out what I’m doing when I go to deliver it. That way, the Feds can’t catch me and lock me up, or assholes that want to blow my brains out to steal it.”
“What are we going to do, go around town, asking our customers if we can taste their weed?” Dustin grimaced at his suggestion.
“We won’t have to. Everyone tries to sell to The Last Riders. We just have to ask Shade to take them up on their offer. I’ll fucking know from the smell if it’s ours.”
“You can’t smell the difference, can you?” Holly asked.
“I can,” Greer bragged.
“I can, too,” Tate agreed.
“Me, too.” Dustin wasn’t about to be left out of the expertise the brothers were plainly proud of.
“Could some of the searchers have found it and used the opportunity to steal it? Maybe they aren’t planning to sell it to anyone.”
The three men looked at her like she had lost a screw. “Would you tear down an old outhouse and climb down in it if you didn’t know there wasn’t a pile of shit down that hole?”
“I can’t say I would,” Holly agreed.
“Son of a bitch knew.” Tate cursed. “They used that puppy to draw Logan out and get us away from the house long enough to get our stash.”
“It has to be a coincidence. Surely, someone just took advantage of Logan being missing.”
“It’ll be easy to tell. I was so busy following Logan’s trail that I didn’t follow the puppy’s.” Greer jumped off the porch, with Dustin and Tate taking off after him.
She and Rachel stood on the porch waiting for the men to come back.
Holly bent down to pick up the pad of Logan’s drawings, fl
ipping through them, with Rachel staring over her shoulder.
“Go back to that one.” Rachel motioned.
Holly couldn’t believe her eyes as she turned the pictures slowly. She had seen these pictures after Logan had drawn them, not realizing their importance.
“Sweet Jesus,” Rachel breathed, taking the pictures from her when she flipped over the last one.
Holly turned as the men’s voices grew nearer, hearing them arguing.
“We found a set of footprints at the hill where the pup took off to. It’s dark, or we could have followed where the footprints led.”
“I know where they lead,” Rachel croaked out, giving the construction pad to Tate as they came up the steps of the porch.
The men looked at the pictures. When they finished, Tate handed it back to Rachel.
“I’m going to get my shotgun.” Greer started to leave.
“I’ll get mine.” Tate started to go inside.
“I’m getting mine, too,” Dustin yelled, heading toward Greer.
“You three get your asses back here!” Holly shouted after them, her hands going to her hips.
The three brothers strode back to the porch.
“I don’t want you going after Asher.” The pad that she had bought Logan showed childish scrawl of a girl with the shape of Kentucky drawn around it, and a picture of a rifle. Another picture was of Mrs. Langley’s house, another a ring, blankets, a field of daisies, and a big oak tree. Logan’s pictures had been unfolding their life right in front of their eyes, and they hadn’t recognized the parallel between the two. The last pictures he had drawn showed the outhouse and a man who had an uncanny resemblance to Asher Hayes.
“Too fucking bad,” Greer snarled. “I don’t care about the pot. Well, I do,” he admitted. “But they could have gotten Logan killed.”
Dustin started to leave again, and Holly took his arm, trying desperately to stop him.
“Listen to me, Dustin! How do you know it isn’t exactly what you’ve been dreaming about? How do you know that, because we saw these pictures, that it makes what we’re all afraid of happen? Logan will never do it again; you all know that. If it’s about the pot, I have money. You can have what I have saved.”