Eli opened the door to our bedroom to hang his hat and vest inside and returned to pat me on the shoulder. He knew this was painful for me still. He had met me soon after that awful time, when I’d still been suffering from the aftereffects.
“Were you hurt?” Peter said.
“I wasn’t shot dead, like my friends. But I got a pretty bad knock on the head. I had to finish the job, which was getting two farm families to Corbin in New America. We ran into more trouble on the way.” I hadn’t thought we’d ever get to Corbin to meet up with Joshua Beekins, who’d hired our gun team.
“So how did Thomas come to be angry? Did he blame you for his brother’s death?” Peter was sure that must be the reason Thomas hated me.
I shook my head. “Even for Thomas, that wouldn’t make any sense. If you’re a gunnie, you got to expect you’re going to encounter close calls and death, as a matter of course.” That was the nature of the job.
“Then what?” Felicia was impatient.
“Thomas buried Tarken and Martin, which ordinarily I would have done. But I had to hurry after our cargo, try to save them from the gang that attacked us. Thomas expected me to be very grateful that he’d dug the graves.”
They stared at me.
“He expected me to show my gratitude with sex.”
“Ewwwww,” Felicia said.
“Instead, my stepfather sent Thomas a barrel of pickles.”
Peter laughed. “A barrel of pickles instead of you!” He traded a smile with Eli, who’d always thought that part of the story was funny, too.
I nodded. “So I thought that was over. And I repaid Jackson for the pickles, killed him a deer and a turkey. I hoped I’d heard the last of Thomas until one night, he came by here drunk and told me I owed him Martin’s gun. The gun was mine by right. The gun goes to the gun crew when a member dies.”
I got up to start chopping the cooked beef roast I’d pulled out of the refrigerator. If it had been cold weather, I’d have been glad to put it in a pan in the oven, but when the temperature was this warm, cooking outside on the fire was better. I added some water and chopped onions and tomatoes and a pepper, then salt, cumin, and cilantro. Peter carried the pot out and put it where Eli showed him, above the fire Eli started with a spell. Nice to have extra hands.
“I did give one of the bandit pistols to Galilee’s son,” I told Felicia, in the interest of honesty. “And I gave Tarken’s share of the money to his ex-wife, for their son.”
“So what happened when Thomas claimed Martin’s gun?” Felicia said, after I’d washed the knife and the cutting board.
“Told him no.”
She grinned. “How’d he take that?”
“Said it was his by rights as next of kin. Said Martin had told him he was going to get rid of me, since I didn’t get along with the rest of the crew. Thomas said he’d get a lawyer and sue me for the pay we’d gotten for the job.”
Peter and Eli had come back inside. Peter put his arm around Felicia’s shoulders. “What an ass,” he said. “He has a lot of gall.”
I wish I’d shot Thomas when I first had the idea. I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until they all swung their heads to look at me.
“Are you crying?” Felicia said. Seemed like all I did these days was cry, ever since I’d lost the baby. But I really, really didn’t want to talk about it.
“That was a hard trip,” I said instead. “The bandits who’d killed my friends had a good lead. They’d stopped to rape the women by the time I caught up. I had to kill all of them by myself. And we got to Corbin. Then I had to get back here.” That return walk by myself had been the bleakest time of my life… at least to date. “And after that, I had to deal with an asshole.”
There was silence from the others while they digested that.
“I think you’re right. We should kill Thomas,” Felicia said.
I wasn’t sure if she was joking or serious. Peter and Eli smiled. Felicia and I didn’t.
“If he gets elected, we’ll have to move,” I told Eli. I meant it.
“All the more reason,” my half sister said.
I had to agree with her.
Eli said, “I will take care of him if I have to.” He smiled again. “If my wife doesn’t call dibs.” He’d just learned that expression, and he loved to work it into the conversation.
People in Segundo Mexia and its surroundings tended to handle disputes one-on-one, sometimes with violence. As a country, Texoma was not that partial to law and order. Eli had taken to it like a duck to water, though it shocked him, too.
“I should have killed Thomas long ago. He’s done dirty things to me as long as I’ve known him. But even in Texoma, I can’t shoot a man for being a nasty piece of work and get away with it. There’s got to be more to the story. If he draws on me, sure. If he tries to kill my sister, sure. If he slaps my mother in public? Absolutely. But not just because he makes me want to throw up.”
Peter’s eyes were wide as an owl’s. “You can shoot someone here for slapping your mother? Oh, boy.”
“I’m hungry,” Felicia said. “Is the food ready? Can we eat while we talk about this?”
Trust Felicia to be practical.
“The meat should have simmered enough in thirty more minutes. I’ve got tortillas and beans plus some fresh tomatoes.” I took the pot of beans out to join the meat over the fire. I wrapped the tortillas in aluminum foil to put in the coals for a quick warm-up right before we ate.
Though Peter looked a bit surprised at the menu, he’d have to learn to like it. My sister was all smiles. Felicia had grown up speaking Spanish and eating Mexican in Ciudad Juárez, south of the border. Even Eli loved spicy food. Me, I had been raised on anything cheap. The fresh tomatoes had come from my mother’s garden. They couldn’t be beat.
We sat at the picnic table with a big cold pitcher of tea and full plates. Even Peter seemed to enjoy the meat and beans and tomatoes, though he looked surprised a few times when he got a bite of pepper. He drank three glasses of tea. The heat was not so bad now that it was evening, and a breeze had come up the hill.
It felt good to be together. Two brothers, two sisters—well, half sisters—and a fine evening with plenty of food.
As we carried the dishes in to wash them, Felicia groaned with her hand to her stomach and said, “I may never eat again!” I smiled at her. She had a lot of growing to catch up on, though now she had left behind all traces of the child she’d appeared to be when I’d first met her. I could believe she was fifteen now.
Peter helped me with the dishes while Felicia took a quick shower. Eli stepped out to extinguish the fire.
I tried not to think any more about Thomas. A ball of fury formed in my stomach every time I remembered the smirk on his face and his talk of people putting money behind him. Who would do that?
“Did you build your cabin yourself?” Felicia said, as if she knew I wanted to talk about something else.
At my request, she was sitting in the open doorway to comb her hair. I noticed that her hair was darker now that she wasn’t in the sun all the time, almost black like mine, and a little wavy. I had gringo skin, and my hair was curly.