Chapter 42 Part 42
Asher
He surveyed the room once again, making sure that he’d cleaned up all the blood. The overwhelming smell was bleach, but he knew it would dissipate soon enough with the open window.
He pulled the door closed behind him and headed back to his house. His eyes resembled slate; the gray was a dark and dangerous color. His face was void of emotion, like something inside of him had once been bruised and scarred but was now broken.
The sun had broken through the darkness on the horizon, and the sky bore glorious shades of fiery reds and oranges as it mixed with the dark clouds that promised rain.
He’d told Dakota to stay, and the dog had padded up the stairs to Melody’s room. Asher thought about moving his pillow bed up there because Dakota had clearly chosen his person.
He quickly sprayed water into the back of his truck and watched as the red-tainted water ran down it. He quickly swept the water off with a broom before hosing it down again. If he’d missed any blood, it wouldn’t be that noticeable. His truck was dark in color. It would be fine.
Asher liked the idea of another storm. It would wash everything away. He opened the kitchen door and took his boots off in the mudroom. He hadn’t taken a jacket, and he pulled the thick plaid shirt off and bundled it up.
His footing was light as he made his way to the downstairs bathroom and washed the blood from his abdomen that had soaked through the shirt. When he was satisfied and had grabbed another shirt from the laundry basket, he headed to the living room, and started a fire. He piled more wood once the flames were leaping upward.
His body shuddered, and he lowered his head, threw the shirt in the fire, and pushed the shirt deeper beneath the wooden logs with the poker. Footsteps on the stairs had him turning around.
“Hey,” he said.
“Early start?” Maggie asked, as she placed Melody on the floor.
“Yeah.”
“Dada,” she said, flashing the four teeth she had.
Asher grinned at her and sat down in front of the fireplace. Melody crawled onto his lap and settled down. She leaned against him and sighed. He felt a moment’s peace with her in his arms, but he knew that soon enough the reality of what he’d done would start to haunt him.
“If you’re comfortable there with her, I’ll get started on breakfast,” Maggie said.
“I’ll grab something in town. I have to go pick up some feed for the horses.”
Maggie had a slight frown on her face. “At least, let me get you some coffee in a travel mug.”
“Thanks, that would be great,” Asher said.
Asher looked back at the flames, noticing that the sleeve of the shirt had fallen loose, and tucked it back under the logs. Nobody could ever know what he’d done.
Maggie returned a few minutes later, and Asher shifted Melody, who’d fallen asleep again. He got to his feet, and took the travel mug from the coffee table. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and headed back to the mudroom for his boots and his insulated jacket. At the kitchen door, he stopped and turned. Maggie had followed him into the room.
“Do you need anything from town while I’m there?”
“Melody needs more diapers, if you don’t mind.”
Asher gave her a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, I don’t mind.”
He left without another word, sighing with relief when he finally climbed into his truck, and headed down the dirt road.
Asher parked his truck behind the feed store and got out. Colt had given him the order form, so he headed inside. “Good morning, Charlie.”
“Hey, Asher. How are things at the ranch?” Charlie Connors was from the Chippewa tribe, and many of her people were still mad when she married Frank Connors, a white man. She didn’t care much. She held onto the firm belief that, if you treated people kindly, they would do the same in return.
“We’ve got no complaints. I brought the order form. Colt said he sent it to you a few days ago,” Asher said.
Charlie took the order form from him, and he could see her doing calculations in her head. “Everything was delivered yesterday. I’ll get the guys to load up your truck.”
“Thanks. How’s Bear Claw doing?”
Charlie smiled and leaned her elbows on the counter. “He’s having some trouble at school. Being half Indian doesn’t really help him fit in.”
“People can be cruel, especially kids. Things will change as he grows older, but it also doesn’t make things easier for him now. We had a Dakota Sioux in the Army with us; James Blackstone. Best damn tracker I ever saw.”
“It’s not that long anymore, you know? He turns 17 in a few weeks.”
“Time flies. I haven’t seen him in…probably four years?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right. He’ll be the only one with braids helping to load up your truck,” Charlie said, with a smile, and Asher nodded.
He stepped outside and leaned against the wall for a few minutes, watching Bear Claw work. He’d grown a lot in the four years since Asher had seen him. He’d filled out, and was skimming the ladder at six feet.
“Asher, hey,” he said, with a grin, flipping his loose hair and two braids over his shoulders.
“Bear Claw, you look good,” Asher said.
The boy grinned, and shook his hand. “Must be the Indian genes.”
Asher chuckled and nodded his head. “Must be. Have you completed your vision quest?”
Bear Claw nodded, but his expression became grim. “There’s plenty of blood in my future. Oddly enough, the bear emerged as my spirit animal.”
“The blood’s not necessarily a bad thing. It can be cow blood,” Asher said.
“Let’s hope so. I saw another animal, freshly killed, but his blood wasn’t on my hands. His blood stained the hands of a white man.”
“That’s some vision, Bear Claw. Do you know what it means?” Asher asked.
“I don’t. You take care now, Asher. I have to finish loading up this order for you before school.”
Asher thought to himself, as he drove away from the store, that perhaps he could have benefited from a vision quest when he was younger. Some life lessons were hard to recover from.