K. Weiland - Storming

“Most excellent.” Livingstone pursed his lips and tweaked the ring on his little finger. “And what about your lovely young wing walker? Seems I remember a pendant she was rather intent on defending.”

Sudden heat burned away the chill on the back of Hitch’s neck. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Of course, of course. To be honest, I don’t share your sheriff’s interest in reconciling with these pirates. No glory to be had in that, is there?”

“Look.” Hitch squared his stance. “We’re on the same side in this. I respect your flying as much as any man’s and I appreciate your offer. But I’ll tell you this upfront—the only time I’ll fall in line behind you on this is the time when I believe with all my heart that what you’re doing is the right thing for the people here.”

Livingstone’s sharp gaze penetrated Hitch’s. “Well.” He touched a finger to his hat brim. “That may not be the best way to play this game—for anyone’s sake. But I shall look forward to seeing what you come up with in this grand chase of ours. Happy hunting, Captain Hitchcock.”

Hitch watched him go.

Livingstone wanted publicity, Hitch’s Jenny, and a fancy new dirigible to add to his show. Campbell wanted to destroy Schturming , show Zlo who was boss, and remind Scottsbluff why he was such an all-fired swell sheriff. Jael wanted to save what was left of her people and get home. And everybody else just wanted to survive. That was an awful lot of juggling. If he dropped even one of those balls, he wasn’t likely to walk away from this mess.

He hissed a long breath past his teeth.

So he’d juggle. If—when?—one of the balls fell, he’d have to hope it was the one that’d cause the least amount of hurt all the way around.

He stood in the wind, hands in his pockets, and watched the crowd.

Nan walked around the back of the tent, shepherding a weeping Aurelia. She saw Hitch and stopped short. Her eyes darted to either side of him, probably looking for a graceful retreat. Then she straightened her shoulders and trudged past him.

He took his hands from his pockets. “You all right?”

She nodded, even that gesture looking like it required half her remaining energy.

“Walter, the girls?” he asked

“They’re fine. We’re all fine.”

Aurelia drew in a sharp, warbling breath. She wasn’t having a fit, but her eyes stared at faraway things. She walked with her arms at her sides, shoulders slumped. Her violet scarf trailed in the thin beginnings of mud.

He leaned over to catch the scarf and tuck it around her cold arm. “It’ll be okay.” He couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering over to Nan’s as he said it.

Nan shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “For what I said about Walter earlier. He’s your kid. You got a right to raise him how you want. But I would never intentionally hurt him—or any of you.”

She hesitated. “You frighten me, you know that.”

“Me? Why?”

“You just do.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, not with tears, just with the tiredness of it all. “Walter… Walter has some problems, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. There have been things that have happened to him, some I blame myself for, some I don’t. I’ve tried all these years to help him, to give him a reason to talk again, to be a good mother to him.”

“You are a good mother.”

“I’m a good mother.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “And you’re an irresponsible adventurer. And you’ve helped him. I’d be a liar not to admit he’s been different this week. I’ve never seen him like this, not since that day when I…” She inhaled sharply through her nose and straightened up. “Why you? Why does he respond to you?”

He shrugged. “Airplanes.”

“It’s not the airplanes. It’s you. You have the gift for making people love you, Hitch.” She didn’t say it like it was a compliment. “I told Celia she was a fool to marry you.”

Celia hadn’t been the only fool, but he kept his mouth shut on that one. He bore a man’s share when it came to blame there, and they all knew it.

Aurelia drew another shuddery breath. “I remember… Celia.”

“Yes, dear,” Nan’s voice softened, almost all the way to tenderness. “She was our sister.”

Aurelia’s gaze roamed, but never quite made it back to the present. “Like you are my sister.”

“Yes.” Nan rubbed briskly at Aurelia’s shivery arm. She looked back up. “Family means something to me, Hitch. I know it never meant much to you—”

“That’s not entirely true—”

“—but to me it’s everything. And I will protect it.”

“I reckon that’s as it should be.”

“But…” Her mouth worked, almost like she had something to say and couldn’t quite get it out. “You should know—”

He made it easy for her. “I’m here to see this through, and then I’ll be gone again. I promise.”

She closed her mouth, and the lines of her cheeks went hard—as if that added coals to her fire instead of making things better.

He tried again. “Looks like Livingstone’s going to give me a job—a good one. Supposing we all survive this mess, then I’ll be out of your hair for good.” He tried to lighten his tone, but it came out a little creaky. “I may be irresponsible, but at least I’m consistent, right?”

“Yes.” She drew herself up and tightened her arm around Aurelia. “That being the case, I think it only right I ask you again to do the right thing and help me see to it that Walter stays at home from now on.”

Something under his heart twinged. He wasn’t going to hurt that kid, even by leaving. People came and went in life all the time. That wasn’t a bad thing to learn at any age. And unlike the last time he’d left, Hitch had never made a secret of the fact that this time he would be going.

The wind gusted against his back. Of course, there were other things that had changed. This was a battleground now. True enough that little boys didn’t belong where there was nobody who could be looking out for them.

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

“I know you don’t understand, but believe me when I say this is the best thing for Walter. And that’s all I care about.”

He couldn’t argue that. “Me too.”

Something in her eyes shifted, but hard to tell what, since there were a lot of emotions swirling around in there. She tucked her chin. “Okay then.” She herded Aurelia forward a step, then looked back. “Good luck up there, Hitch.”

He touched his forehead in a small salute. “Yes, ma’am.” He could use the sentiment, because truth be told, he didn’t feel too lucky right at this moment.

RAINDROPS SPLATTED AGAINST the wooden plank above Walter’s head. He huddled under the front bleacher seat, knees against his chest, arms around Taos’s neck. The dog sat quietly. Only the tip of his one floppy ear moved whenever he perked it at a new passerby. His long fur had kinked with the wet, and it smelled like a musty carpet.

Beside the bleachers, someone had backed two Auto Wagon Model As—with the back doors open—end to end and erected a blanket on poles over the top. The doctor, in his black derby hat, and a few volunteers worked underneath. The patients sat on one tailgate, and the doctor picked up his tools off the other one, so he only had to turn when he wanted something.

Right now, Earl was the one sitting there, sweat glistening on his face. He kept hollering at the doctor.

Jael stood at his side, a hand on his good shoulder. Every time he hollered, she patted him, like Mama Nan sometimes did when she was trying to make Aunt Aurelia hush without being obvious about it.