[h3]Truth…[/h3]

>STAY 4 LESS MOTEL, FREDERICKSBURG, VA
>14OCT2019
>0100...///

Another rental car, another shitty motel, another secret meeting with Donnelley. Laine lit her clove cigarette as she shut the Impala’s door with her hip, tapping the key fob to lock it. She was dressed in black jeans and heeled boots, the lace trimmed blouse hidden under her fitted leather jacket. She walked across the parking lot, the buzzing lights not doing much to flatter the peeling paint on the blue doors of the motel. Rounding the corner of the outer building, she spotted the green bench he said to look for. 

She glanced at his text again, to make sure she had read it right. [i]If the tack is still there meet me in room 315.[/i] Laine blew smoke out and rolled her eyes as his game, a hint of a smile touching her burgundy lips. He could have just come to her townhouse, they could be relaxing right now in front of the fake fireplace with a bottle of mediocre wine. 

Laine got closer to the bench, half expecting him to jump out at her and laugh that she had followed such ridiculous instructions. All was silent however, a distant roaring motor of some overcharged engine and a sputtering backfire that made her duck her head instinctively. Her heart raced and she found she was kneeling next to the bench without even realizing she had moved so quickly. 

She sighed at the reaction, Laine knew it was from the exposure to gunfights and everything they had been through but also the training she was receiving. Cigarette pressed between her lips, she looked across the bench and saw it. A yellow pushpin jammed into the wooden seat. 

Laine popped it free and glanced around,  standing up she pocketed the innocuous tack and made her way back to the motel, hunting for room 315. She passed through the archway where the soda and ice machines were and continued down until she found it near the end. 

She put out her clove cigarette, picking up the butt to save as she had adopted the habit from Donnelley. Laine used to think it was paranoia but now she realized it was appropriate caution.  She knocked three times and waited, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets, toying with the tack. She could feel the weight of her 9mm sitting inside of her waistband, the new holster for the throw away gun was still stiff but easier to conceal than her FBI issued equipment. 

The doorknob turned and opened after the sound of the lock and chain being undone. What greeted Laine was the man she knew, and loved, except for the weight of a couple sleepless nights and a boulder of stress resting across his back. He smiled at her, a tired little thing, but sincere as it could be. “Really good seein’ you.”

Laine met the bloodshot blue eyes and could see the fatigue, then reached into her pocket and pulled out the yellow tack, holding it up for him. “Is this your idea of vacation?” she said, then softened, “It’s good to see you too. What’s going on?”

She stepped inside the room when he backed up, glancing around at the decor that seemed to favor orange and looked like it had not been updated since the Carter administration. Cigarette burns in the carpet and drywall patched holes barely concealed under a coat of paint and an old tube tv bolted to the wall completed the no tell motel look. 

Once the door closed and was locked she turned to Donnelley and moved to embrace him. He looked like he needed it and she had missed him. “We could have just met at my place.”

Donnelley let the subject rest while he squeezed Laine in an embrace that made it seem like they hadn’t met in years. He let her go then and fell into one of the chairs, looking up at her. For a moment, he wondered how he should frame it, and then his tired mind stretched that moment out into an uncomfortable silence. Donnelley broke himself from the spell only to sigh and shake his head, eyes on the floor, “If you knew where I just came in from, you’d know why I couldn’t just come to your place.”

He said that, knowing she just wouldn’t understand until he just came up and out with it, but how could he? It wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, or wanted to. His lips moved, but whatever mumble came out of them fell short of Laine’s ears.

Laine raised her eyebrow at him as sat down, his whole body seemed to be pressed with the weight of the world. She stepped over to him, not understanding the mutter. Laine knelt before him, rather than loom over and put her hands against his thighs. “What is it? You can tell me, what have you been getting up to?” 

His drooping head raised, his eyes raising with it to meet Laine’s and there was a newfound wetness forming just under them. He swallowed hard, dry, “[i]You were right.[/i]” His voice was small, none of the smirking bravado or brashness of the country boy punk she’d come to know, “I couldn’t, or didn’t want to see it… but, you were right.”

He frowned, “Foster did this. It was [i]all him.[/i]”
 
Laine stared up at him for a moment, then slapped her hands against his thighs. “I fucking knew it. I knew it, I knew I should trust my instincts.”

She stood up, the expression in her face not joy at being right but a fierce vindication flashing in her green eyes. “That two faced bastard, I knew something was off. What happened, how did you even find out?”

Laine turned back to Donnelley, the sudden realization of the cost of the information. “And, I’m sorry I was right, I didn’t want to be. I know he meant more to you than he ever did to us.” 
She put her hand on his shoulder, then kissed the top of his head, kneeling back down. “Tell me everything.”

“It should be in the book bag. Everythin’ you need to know.” He said, nodding to the simple black bag on the foot of the bed, “Foster made a deal with March Tech. He had Clyde Baughman killed, and he took me from THUNDER to head a team of people who wouldn’t spot the red flags. Wouldn’t dig deeper. Wouldn’t ask questions, because they were so new they wouldn’t know what questions [i]to ask.[/i]”

“Or so he… [i]they[/i] thought.” Donnelley’s lip quivered in a frown, a thing of contempt, “They fuckin’ [i]played us.[/i] And when we started gettin’ close… they had us killed.”

Laine went over to the back pack and pulled it up onto the bed, listening as she unzipped it. She began digging through the contents as she spoke, “March Tech? You mean, the private plane, the sushi guy?”

She pulled a file and looked at Donnelley, her gaze sharp, “Well, they made a damn mistake getting an FBI agent on their team. We’re not exactly known for giving up the chase.” 

Laine paused, her thoughts turning to Tom who tread too close to the Russians and their other teammates killed by the monster in the mountain. She paused, “You know, I wondered about Baughman’s death. I never got an autopsy report, I should have asked for one but it wasn’t my task. We were so busy cleaning up after the Program. Unless he had sudden natural death like a heart attack or was murdered, he would never have left his wife like that. He literally made a deal with the devil to bring her back.”

She sighed, “They probably would have had a fake one anyway, they know how to do that. Anyway, let’s see what you got.” 

Laine sat on the end of the bed opening the first file and began to read. Donnelley watched her, seeing her eyes go over the pages of whatever she was reading. No matter what she picked in there, it would be a revelation. There wouldn’t be any going back.

“No.” Donnelley said, “It wasn’t Clyde’s deal. It was forced on him. Levy… Doctor Germaine did that to Marlene. Whatever woke up… it wasn’t her.”


Laine paused, rereading a passage and slowly looked up and over at Donnelley. “Levy? Doctor [i]fucking[/i] Levy did this. She killed Maria, too. And the others...the small scrubs. Medical knowledge, it was a doctor. I was wrong, so wrong.”

She looked back at the file on her lap and restrained the urge to throw it across the room. “That bitch!” 

Laine’s green eyes blazed, “She was right fucking there that whole time! Enjoying every moment under that sour face attitude. Jesus, she had Alex there all alone. How did you find these, all these files, that information about Foster and Levy?” 

Donnelley stood, finding his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, drawing in a deep drag and blowing it out as he looked at Laine. His eyes settling on hers, “I got tired of bein’ in the dark.” He said, “About Clyde, about Foster, about Blackriver.”

“So I went back.” Donnelley frowned, “Queen and I went back. And we jumped up to our necks in that muddied water and pulled those files right there straight out of that lyin’ fuckin’ bitch’s hut in the woods.”

“Vera Corp, the company that bought the MacOnie mines, they’re out there doin’ somethin’ in the mountains, and it ain’t just minin’. And I have half a mind to think they wanted those files as bad as I did.” He took another drag, blowing it through his nostrils, “Because they shot at us. The Doctor wasn’t there.”

He looked away from Laine, shaking his head slow, “We killed her big partner. Germaine, Levy, whatever she’s callin’ herself…” Donnelley’s lips curled back in a quiet snarl, “She’s [i]still out there.[/i]”

Laine stared at him for a moment, her mouth open slightly. The large partner, the big scrubs and gloves, everything laid out for her in the files she now had in her hands. Maria’s killers, they gave her over to whatever entity they were dealing with. Something like Ithaqua but in the West Virginia hills, something granting dark wishes for power. This doctor using the town and the tourists, the trafficked girls for her experiments. She flipped the page, a photograph of a horror staring back at her. Laine breathed in sharply, then said, “I wish I had gone with you, to see her hut, to examine everything. Don’t go back without me, Donnelley.”

She sat up and leaned forward, “I want this bitch to pay for Maria and Mrs. Baughman, and all the others she has tortured in life and after death but first, I want answers directly from her mouth. I want to go to those labs Vera Corp has, I want to see for myself.”

Laine paused, then asked, “How long until Foster gets wind of your field trip?” 

“Hopefully fuckin’ never.” Donnelley shrugged, “But, I can’t know until they’re knockin’ on my door or catch me in my sleep…”

“If you know what I mean.” Donnelley let that lie for a moment, “I’m not goin’ to lie, we have some answers, but that bag is the biggest target on all of our heads. It’s too soon for anyone to know what Queen and I did, but they might soon.”

He paused, taking another drag and flicking the ashes, “I saw a Fed with Detective Roy.” He mentioned, “Garcia.”

Laine felt a prickle of foreboding along the back of her neck, the idea Donnelley would be marked for death if Foster found out. She looked at the files, flipping through the one in her lap, she would be up all night reading and absorbing the contents, the first few pages already had her outraged and it would not get better. 

“I know what you mean, we can’t let that happen,” she said, “So don’t go off on your own anytime soon.” 

“Why was a Fed with Roy?” she asked, narrowing her eyes for a moment when he mentioned the name. A brief flicker of memory, it felt like years but it had been only months since that phone call. Garcia was a common enough name but the coincidence tugged at her. 

“Garcia, what was his first name, do you know?” she asked slowly, “What did he look like?” 

Donnelley leaned himself against the wall, looking up and away as he took another drag off his cigarette. After a moment of thinking back, he looked at Laine, “Little shorter than me. Latino, obviously. Black hair slicked back. Had an air about him, could see it in the way he walked and everythin’.” Donnelley nodded, clucking his tongue, “Like anythin’ he sunk his teeth into he’d finish off or die tryin’.”

He smirked a little bit, “I admire that. It’s too bad he pointed himself in the wrong direction with all that gumption he’s got. Hell, I’d recruit him myself if I wasn’t sure he’d throw me in the back of a Crown Vic.” He turned back to serious and cocked his head at Laine, “He knew where to go to, he knew [i]who[/i] to go to, he knew what to ask. [i]Jackson Mitterick’s[/i] name came up.”

“Whoever told him what they told him, it was some damn good info.” Donnelley nodded.

Laine looked up at him, the recognition registering with her as he described the agent. She cleared her throat, “Sounds like Mark Garcia, out of the New York office. I worked with him on a joint task force once, he’s a bloodhound alright. He was investigating that photographer, Carlisle, for trafficking underage girls and young women. Luring them in with the whole ‘you could be the next big model’ and what he did with them after he was done. Selling them to the bratva.”

She turned and looked down at her hands, clenching them, “He was a predator, one who thought he wasn’t getting his hands dirty. Look, Garcia called me that night, when your team attacked his home and those cops got killed. I didn’t tell him anything if that’s what you’re thinking. I only had requested some information from him about Carlisle, I told him I was working on a missing persons case.” 

Donnelley shook his head, putting a hand up and waving off whatever thought Laine had about Donnelley’s suspicions, real or fake, “I wouldn’t think that. Not just because the resultin’ RICO case would take you with us and everyone else.” He snorted, “If the guy’s good like you said, I’m not in any rush to do anything my momma wouldn’t approve of.”

He sighed, “Look, I’ve got a guy somewhere. He can hold copies of those files and find a place to stash them. If we get… caught, or worse, those all go to the press.” He said, “And anyone else who can do any kind of damage with them. If we go out, all the bastards who even dipped a toe in this mess we’re in are followin’ us down.”

“I was plannin’ on goin’ to meet him before we lay low. Call everyone over and have the big talk.” Donnelley looked at Laine, studied her features and remembered everything in Alaska down to the glassy eyes full of nothing staring at the sky. He swallowed, taking another drag, “I hope you’re all in with me, Laine. There’s no more shamans gonna bring us back, and that phone call in the SUV’s already made.”

Laine stood up, still gripping the file before tucking it under her arm. She stayed quiet, looking at Donnelley for a long moment before she moved towards him. She met his eyes and reached for his hand, “I’ve been with you since you put that jacket around my shoulders. If we go down, we go down together.”

Donnelley’s lips curled into a smile, his smirking demeanor returning, “I [i]love you.[/i]”

Laine pulled him closer, leaning up to kiss him and sighed, “Do we still have time? Remember, we talked about going to Texas. How long until the world ends?” 

“Who knows. Which is why we should hurry up and do somethin’ anyways.” Donnelley smiled, leaning down to kiss Laine’s forehead, “Fuck it, let’s get to Texas. We can lay low there.”

“We can go to my place, let me pack,” she said, a little hint of a smile touching her lips.  “I have a surprise for you.” 

“I love it when you say that.” His smirk grew a bit.

...///

Laine locked the door behind them when they entered her townhome, the large apartment that had become a money drain as she spent so much time away. Her last roommate had got married and moved out, leaving her with too much space and rent but she enjoyed the peace and hated moving. 

“I have wine, if you want a drink,” she said, tossing her keys on the counter. “Vodka in the freezer, I was going to buy whiskey to keep here for you but I hadn’t got around to doing it.”

Laine went to the refrigerator, “Are you hungry? I have plenty of leftovers, I’ve been keeping myself busy.” 

Donnelley was stood behind her in the kitchen, not quite knowing what to do with himself in the moment as he looked around her apartment. It was odd that he’d had memories here now, when looking back he thought the only memories would’ve been splattered on the wall of an alley after a particularly hard night of drinking after one too many bad Ops in places the world swept their shitty parts into to impress the tourists.

He shook himself from that line of thought and snorted at the almost overflowing amount of Tupperware in Laine’s refrigerator. He wanted to answer, but her behind bent over in front of him as she rifled through the fridge momentarily distracted him, “Um…” he bit his lip, looking to the side and admiring the immaculately cleaned sink, “Uh, no, I’m full. Not really in the, uh, [i]eatin’[/i] kind of mood with the recent events.”

It was hard, getting away from that slide back into darkness that always pulled him in. It was like the abyss was hunting for him. But he was with Laine, and they were alone, and that was enough for him. Best to focus on that than anything else, “Could think of a few things I’d have room for though.” he chuckled, low and husky.

Laine slid the Tupperware back into the fridge and closed it, opening the freezer instead to remove the half empty bottle of vodka. She turned and caught his eye, knowing the look and the timber of his voice. 

"I could suggest a few, but first I'd like to toast your return from hell," she said, reaching over to a round decorative tray that had a set of shot glasses with skulls and spiderwebs painted on them, matching that of the tray. It had been a Halloween set she bought one year for a party and just kept it. 

She poured two cold shots and handed him one, "Welcome home."

Laine knocked hers back and waited for him to finish his before moving in for a kiss, her arms wrapping around him. He put his empty shot glass on the counter, his own arms going around her as he returned her kiss. They stayed like that for a moment before Donnelley broke the kiss and just held Laine, his face nuzzling into her neck. He breathed her in deep, her own natural smell and whatever body wash she’d used earlier that day. It really did smell like home.

“I couldn’t ask for a warmer welcome.” He said through a soft smile.

Laine hugged him, her fingers running up and down his back, her thoughts briefly flickering to the danger he had stirred and the fact he had made it back and with proof. He was brave and resourceful, she admired it, no matter what he managed to make it out. Each time was a spin of the cylinder, she knew. Squeezing him a little tighter, she whispered, "I love you."

Pulling back slightly so she could look into his eyes, Laine reached up, cupping his scarred cheek. "We can mess around, my parents aren't home," she teased, the empty townhouse almost seemed to echo the lonely life of it's occupier. The minimalist decor of black and a touch of Halloween here and there. The sleek electronics on the entertainment center and lack of clutter. The black and white framed movie posters and one small print of a painting with thick black strokes and one band was red tinted. It had a professional air despite the somber simplicity. 

She took his hand to lead him to the couch. Donnelley was happily led into her living room with the biggest smile he’d had since he and Queen had squeezed more than eighty-thousand out of a Nazi piece of shit. The smile barely faded when he plopped down into the black suede, looking up at Laine. He took a long moment just drinking her in with his eyes, and then held her gaze. He gave her his kissy face, “Haven’t been much of a good boy lately. Sneakin’ out to West Virgie while I’m grounded. Seein’ as I’m on your couch,” He smirked, “What you gonna do to me, Doctor?”

Laine crossed her legs, she was still in her jeans but had removed her boots, a pair of black and purple socks with bats printed on them on her feet. It had been a novelty purchase when she and Ava had spent a day hanging out and shopping for her upcoming party. Laine wiggled her toes then tucked one foot underneath her and turned to Donnelley, catching his teasing expression. 

She took a deep breath, her face taking on the serious cool mask of Dr. Laine. Her green eyes gleamed despite her stern mouth when she spoke, “I am going to violate the code of ethics for doctor-patient relations.” 

Laine smiled slightly, “But first, did you do anything else on your summer vacation you would like to talk about? As if discovering the true faces behind a murderously evil cabal and the enemy in our midst weren’t enough.”

He could tell her about murdering Hubert O’Grady like a dog on a lonely Blackriver highway. He could tell her about the dream, about Yuliya Feldenkrais, and how he watched her and his entire team die at the hands of March Tech and Foster trying to smuggle documents that would bury March Tech forever. Always tempting fate, but a buzz came from his personal phone and his hand went to check it lightning quick. The phone screen was lit up, and the picture he had taken with Tilly stared back at him. His own face with one of the most genuine smiles it’d been graced by, and Tilly’s bright, blue eyes and dimples. He found himself smiling at the screen.

Laine waited out his silence patiently as she always did but when he looked at his phone she leaned towards him. "What are you smiling at like that? Seeing another fed behind my back?"

Donnelley smirked a bit, “I saw her in Washington after you left.” Donnelley teased, “I gotta say, she’s beautiful, ain’t she?”

He watched Laine’s face go through the myriad of emotions, most of them negative. When he felt he’d had his fun and it was almost about to earn him a smack upside his head, he showed her the screen, “She’s grown up, ain’t she? Last time I saw that face, she was knee high to a grasshopper.”

Laine's eyes narrowed at him and she had her hand on a velvet throw pillow, gripping it when he turned the phone around. Her annoyance melted away and she gasped with surprise. 

"This is Tilly? She's so grown," Laine held the phone and looked between father and daughter. The pride and love in Donnelley's eyes reminded her of her own dad. It was a strange thing to remember Donnelley had this other family, he rarely ever mentioned it but the one time, the last time they were at her place. 

"She's so beautiful, look at that cheeky smile. She looks a lot like you, her eyes especially," Laine felt her throat clench with emotion, happy for the man she loved to reconnect with his only child. It took her a moment but she asked, "The visit went well? How do you feel?" 

Donnelley nodded, a satisfied smile still on his lips as he took one last look at the screen before putting it away, “Yeah. Holly says I can see her as long as Tilly wants me to. Some… [i]conditions[/i] attached, but…” He shrugged, “She skates. She likes marine biology and octopuses. She’s a hell of an artist too, let me tell you.”

He looked at Laine, holding her gaze and letting his eyes roam over her. Everything about her, it made him feel like not everything was horrible. “I want you to meet her one day.” He said, “I mean, if that’s alright with you. She’d think you’re cool. I know I do.”

Laine smiled as he described Tilly, resisting the urge to correct him on the plural of octopus. His drawl was endearing and she could listen to him read instructions on how to break down and clean a Glock 19.

She blinked at the thought of meeting his daughter, possibly his ex wife. It would be awkward at first maybe but the idea of getting to know his daughter was not unappealing. 

"Maybe, but I'll let you have a few visits alone before introducing me," Laine said thoughtfully, "Once the novelty has worn off and you are establishing that normalcy. Too much new can be overwhelming sometimes."

Laine moved closer to Donnelley, wanting to feel him. "But I would love to one day. She sounds like a great kid."

Donnelley reached to her, slipping his fingers between hers and guiding her onto straddling his lap, “It was a shock, Laine. The first time I saw her in the kitchen, all grown as she is.” His eyes were distant, remembering the waves of different feelings, each one crashing into him in that moment, “She’s damn beautiful, she’s smart, she’s talented. I just… That man that ruined everythin’ those years ago was a damn [i]fool.[/i]”

His hands rested on Laine’s hips and then moved to caress and knead her thighs, “Meetin’ you’s probably the best thing to come out of all that mess.” He smiled.

Laine shifted her weight to her knees on either side of his hips and rested her ass against his thighs. She watched the emotions play across his scarred features. 

"We all can be fools," she said, kissing Donnelley's forehead. "It's the realization and acceptance that makes a difference and if possible, to make up for our mistakes."

Her lips found his, brushing a soft kiss against them, then said, "I'm glad, too. And I'm glad the timing was right for us. A few months earlier and I would have been a taken woman."

Laine smiled against his mouth, kissing him again, "Then what would you have done?"

“Probably cried my woes to the whole world atop the tallest buildin’ I could find.” Donnelley chuckled, giving another small kiss on Laine’s lips, “And then go home and masturbate or somethin’, I’unno.”

He bit his lip, feeling himself grow with the intimacy they were showing each other, the lack of space, the contact. After everything in West Virginia, he needed this, “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a psychologist as effective as you, Doctor.”

Laine chuckled at that, tipping her head so their brows touched and she could see the striations of the blue hues in his eyes. "What a gentleman you are, not going after a woman on another man's arm."

She shifted against him, feeling his reaction and Laine almost laughed, her chuckle lost under another kiss. Pulling back she said, "You respond very well to my methods. Just don't report me to the APA."

Laine reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, her manicured nails lightly dragging along his scalp as she kissed him again, this time with more hunger. Donnelley moaned against her lips, momentarily breaking it, “And lose this? [i]Never.[/i]”

His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer against him and returned her starving kisses, all manner of conversation thrown away. His other hand busying itself with kneading up and up her thigh, “Goddamn, I love you.”

>…///

“I could go for a cigarette ‘bout now.” He chuckled, reaching over and massaging Laine’s naked thigh up and down. He noticed the new firmness there, “Been hittin’ the weights, huh?”

Laine chuckled at him, her eyes twinkling, "A cigarette sounds good but no smoking in my place. I'd be guillotined or something according to my lease."

She sighed softly at his caress and where his hand strayed. Laine smiled as he noticed the change, "Yeah, I've been using the Academy gym and doing some lifting and running. More lifting than running to be honest. Hitting the gun range, too. My old instructor is still kicking around, he was more than happy to let me go loose with that submachine gun."

Laine stayed silent for a beat, "I know we'll need it. Next month I believe Ghost wants to start Ava and I training."

She glanced away from Donnelley for a brief moment then shrugged, "You say he's good right. A professional. I trust you."

The sound of her voice was not completely convincing and there was now a preoccupied air about her even as she lay naked on the couch. Donnelley moved again to lay on top of her, sensing it in her voice that she was having her doubts, “He is. Not like Poker. He wants you to train with him, he wants you to train with him, no hidden meanin’s.” Donnelley reassured, giving her a light kiss, “I wouldn’t even let Poker in the same room with you alone if I could help it.”

He smiled, “You’re [i]all mine.[/i]”

Laine could not help but smile a little at that and reached up to hold Donnelley. "Without question," she assured him, "I don't think get he would be stupid enough to try anything."

Her thighs pressed against his hips, then she ran her hands over his shoulders. "I always feel safe with you," she said, then kissed his cheek. "One way or another, I know you'll have a plan. You're very resourceful. Besides you're going to be in charge of this spliced working team. Right?"

“[i]Mhmm,[/i]” Donnelley smirked, “Big man in town.”

“Now, come on,” Donnelley said, getting to his feet and stretching his arms up to the ceiling and grunting as his shoulder popped, “We gotta pack for our fun trip.”

Laine gave him a closed mouth smile, watching as he stretched, taking her gaze down his body. "Mhmm, big man indeed."

She pushed herself up, smoothing her tousled hair. Laine ran her fingers down his chest to the top of his pubic bone. “I need to clean up before we get to that."

Laine grinned at him before walking away to the first floor half bath and took care of what she needed to. When she emerged, she picked up the clothes tossed on the floor. “Oh, I have a surprise for you. Wait here.”

She held a hand up and ran up the stairs, heedless of her nudity. Laine pushed her bedroom door open and went to the closet, finding the large dented box that she had hauled around since Idaho. 

“You can come up!” she called out, standing naked but for the black cowgirl boots, her hands on her hips in a power pose. 

Donnelley was chuckling as his footsteps creaked on the stairs, wondering just what Laine had made a fuss about. When he rounded the corner, still similarly nude, he still had that smirk on his face. His brow quirked as he looked Laine over, noticing the boots on her feet. His smirk grew to a smile as he gave a breathy chuckle, “Goodness me, [i]cowgirl.[/i]” Donnelley crossed the small distance between them and wrapped his arm around the small of Laine’s back, tugging her into him, “Gonna hafta find you somethin’ to ride.”

Laine laughed and hugged him around his neck, leaning up to kiss him. “I was hoping for a big chestnut stallion,” she said, kissing him. “I know we just got done, but you make me want to hurt.” 

She stuck her foot out, admiring the black leather with the intricate embroidery. “I bought them up in Moscow, everyone was kicking back but I felt like getting out. I went to the Appaloosa Museum and looked into trail rides. Then I stopped at a Western store, I saw these in the window and I knew I needed to get them to impress you.” 

Donnelley chuckled a bit, taking a look for himself at the shiny black leather, the intricate stitching of the pattern along it. He nodded, “Well, you done it. Goin’ to have to get a pair myself while we’re down there.” He kissed Laine on the cheek and stepped back from her so he could go get his clothes from downstairs, “Cant have you outdoin’ me now, can I? Maybe we visit my uncle’s place, get you in the saddle a bit.”

“How’s that sound?” He asked, stopping in the doorway and leaning on the jamb with a smile on his face, “Ever ridden?”

Laine smiled at the gentle kiss before he slipped from her arms. She moved to sit on the edge of her bed to remove the boots but glanced up at his attention. 

"A few times," Laine said, crossing her leg over the other and reaching down to tug at the boot. "I wouldn't say no to that. I enjoy riding."

Her green eyes twinkled at him as she removed the first boot and set it down. Donnelley’s eyes twinkled in kind as he chuckled softly, “Don’t I know.” He pushed off the door jamb and turned for the stairs, “I’ve already got most of my shit packed. Holler if you need help.”

>GREYHOUND BUS STATION, DALHART TX
>16OCT2019
>1430...///

The town was a dark scab on a flat golden prairie where the late summer stretched on with baking heat. The dog days should have been past and a hint of autumn in the air but not here. A change in season was never gentle or subtle. Spring brought hail and tornadoes, tearing across the farms and grassland. Autumn arrived late, on black clouds from the north forming on the horizon. A border land with nothing but flat miles between here and the frozen tundra far to the north.

Laine stood with her bags, the oppressive heat around them seemed to vibrate with the screams of cicadas. The clicks followed by whirrs that rose in pitch until they broke and repeated. It made her feel anxious, there was tension in this place. A humming cord ready to snap at any moment, just given the chance and right time. 

Dust was still kicking up after the bus had pulled away from the so-called station, a bus bench just outside the center of town. Laine was dressed in black jeans and her cowgirl boots, a vintage black western blouse with white piping and embroidered floral across the upper back and past the collar along her clavicle. 

Laine toyed with a pearl button, tempted to roll up her sleeves but she wanted to keep a neat appearance at least until they got where they were going. She turned to Donnelley, watching him behind her Ray Bans as he took in the site of his home town. She brushed her hair back as the wind shifted from west to north, blowing in deep breaths across the warm dirt and asphalt.

There seemed to be a different air around Donnelley that radiated out from him the closer they got to Dalhart. They stood alone and quiet, the Greyhound station next to the train tracks that ran through the town. Sparse traffic passed by them on the dusty roads. No one really came to Dalhart. His eyes passed over the flat prairie around and settled on the tiny hints of buildings farther down the road. For a bit, he chewed through the memories he’d had here, almost all of them some degree of bitter. As if to punctuate that, there were only more of the same signs stuck into the side of the road, showing support for every politician of the ilk Donnelley had hoped he would’ve left behind long ago. Now one was in the fucking White House. He looked at Laine, “It gets better.” He smirked. “Should find us a ride, don’t much feel like walkin’ everywhere in town like a couple vagrants.”

He took another look at the road and countryside spread out before them. He forgot how flat this place was, could watch your dog run away for three days. Or watch about zero cars coming up. He sniffed, “That said…” he turned towards town and offered his hand out for Laine to hold, “Would you accompany me, miss’m?”

Laine smoothed her blouse and huffed, "I hardly look like a vagrant."

She glanced at her reflection in his aviators, Laine's idea of having fun with the vintage western theme made her look like a stranded Hollywood cowgirl and completely out of place. She smoothed down the wind ruffled dark hair, tucking it behind her ears. 

Taking his hand, she added, "But I think it's better we find a car or something. There's a lot of space out here."

Her boot heels clicked against the cracked asphalt as they walked, Laine looking around, mostly at the people they might pass to see if they might realize their old deputy was back in their midst. Donnelley himself was making busy hoping they wouldn’t. The kids might have called him Robocop endearingly, but there were a fair few people here that had family and friends he had sent to jail or roughed up for any number of reasons that warranted it. Down in Texas, it was oddly similar to the Afghans and their Pashtunwali- [i]Me and my brothers against my cousins. My brothers, cousins, and me against the world[/i].

It didn’t matter if all of them were all manner of shitty, they were still your blood. Donnelley could respect the loyalty. Poker and Ghost were evil fucks, and he still fought beside them and earned their respect. But they weren’t here, so his eyes were cautious. The look of a wolf among territory that hadn’t been his in a very long time. “Hard to believe this was my entire world at one point.” 

He said, looking at the washed out buildings, the warehouses and machine shops on the outskirts of town. Somewhere not far, there were girls turning tricks for truckers and other blue-collars with money and too much built up lust. Somewhere next to those prostitutes were some Mexicans or whiteboys selling meth. It would take some walking to get to the center of town and maybe see some culture that wouldn’t make him want to distract Laine from it, “We can find a place to eat and I’ll call my uncle to pick us up. Bring us to the ranch, show us the countryside.”

Laine glanced over at him, then out at the town with its dried up lawns and pick ups parked along curbs. “It’s...interesting, seeing this with you. Fitting the stories to a real place. It’s hard to imagine just having this, no wonder you were chomping at the bit.”

She bumped her hip against his gently, “It has a certain charm. You know, LA is a huge city but in reality it’s really a bunch of small towns lumped together, each with distinct borders and people from each place have that same loyalty I think of people from small towns as having. Some of them never leave their neighborhoods. Live and die in the same dozen blocks.” 

Laine squeezed his hand, “You were destined for so much more, but I want to see the places that helped make Joseph Donnelley. Your old highschool, the places you used to hide to smoke weed and where you had house parties.” 

Donnelley smiled at Laine’s enthusiasm in the face of his embarrassment, a hint of shame. He leaned down to kiss her softly, “I guess I’ll be givin’ you the tour.” He smiled, “If I know where we are, I can show you where my band played our first house show.”

Her green eyes lit up when he kissed her, the newness of it all still made her pulse race. Laine returned his smile as she said, “Show me where Joey was shredding riffs with Reagan's Grave."

>…///

“Huh…” Donnelley scratched at his chin beneath his beard, taking a moment to stroke it. “I guess places change after more’n a decade.”

What Donnelley and Laine were staring at was an empty lot. Even the two houses next to it had been bulldozed to make way for some new project on the properties, chain link fence surrounding the stubborn tufts of grass slowly dying in the dry dirt. They’d been skirting the entire town for the last twenty minutes through shady side streets and alleyways just to get here. He looked up and down the street, looking still just as confused, wondering if they’d taken a wrong turn or he’d misremembered the way. Sure enough, this was it. The house was gone, “Well, fuck…”

“I guess a lot’s changed while I was gone.” Donnelley muttered, his voice sounding wilted. Gone were the days of the tiny punk scene in tiny Dalhart. Back when, Donnelley felt like it would be here forever, that their legacy would let the generations after to follow in footsteps that didn’t lead them to wifebeaters and beating their wives. For all their angst, they were just as naive. “Let’s just… find somewhere to eat or somethin’.”

Laine watched Donnelley from the corner of her eye, the empty lot where the short fierce years of his youth had been spent. Dust devils kicked up as the cooling breeze came in against the hot wind. On the horizon to the north the dark clouds continued to gather and  she could see the occasional flicker of lightning in the distance but no thunder. 

She put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing the tense muscle there. “Nothing gold can stay,” she recalled the movie she and her friends had watched so many times. 

Laine took his hand, her fingers slipping through his. A puff of wind caught her hair and played it across her face and she pushed it down. “Show me your local Dairy Queen. I heard there’s always one in these small towns.” 

Donnelley swallowed, a working of his throat that seemed thunderous against the quiet moment there, staring at a history now buried. “Only if they didn’t tear that down too…” He muttered, bitter.

He squeezed Laine’s hand in his and sighed, looking to her and giving her a small smile. Out of the triumphs of the past pushed down by the torrents of time always stomping on, there was something new he’d found. Someone new. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “Let’s get some ice cream.”

>…///

They sat at one of the wood tables on the outside patio of the Dairy Queen, the establishment sitting and waiting for Donnelley in the same place it had always been. Wearing new colors and having had some work done in her old age, but the old queen was stubbornly still standing. He guessed the taste for the new and shining had yet to spread from the center of Dalhart. The outskirts had only seen the hands of gentrification tightened into a fist to knock down the undesirable history of the place.

Town hall and everywhere else close to it seemed to have a new shine, and so did the Dairy Queen. The teenagers manning the counters and the drive-thru were still just that- teenagers- but the culture that had molded them had changed so much. He remembered the way his girlfriend at the time had dressed, all blacks and dark eyeliner, red hair falling long and straight down to her hips. Now these teens may have had wild-colored hair, but it was all just… [i]not punk.[/i] Not quite goth, not quite punk, not quite cowboy… not quite [i]anything.[/i] A thought occurred to him, and it was perhaps the scariest one he’d had yet in all his years.

“I don’t understand these kids.” He murmured around a mouthful of cookie dough blizzard as he looked out at a group of them hanging around the parking lot. It wasn’t bitter, in that way old men had been proclaiming their fear and anger at change, it was like a realization. A dreadful revelation. A recognizing that times were no longer [i]his.[/i] “You know, they dye their hair, they have the style… but when they open their mouths, I can’t understand half the shit pours out of it.”

“I remember my high school ex worked here some time ago, and I recognize it a little bit, she could be plucked from the eighties and dropped in here with ‘em, but they’d be speakin’ two different languages…” He stuck his spoon into his ice cream to get another bite and then shook his head, “I’m fuckin’ [i]old.[/i] Laine, did you know when you agreed to all this?” He had a little self-deprecating smile at that, but the sentiment really was sincere underneath it.

Laine watched the kids around them as they spoke, the same sort of irony of still feeling young but in their heads, their own youth. Not what was current and what had passed would never be recaptured, not even when inevitably fashion would cycle back and take inspiration from the past. From their past.

She took a bite with the long handled red spoon, savoring the Heath bar crumbs mixed into the ersatz ice cream. Laine gazed at Donnelley as he came to his personal revelation, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I know, I can do math,” she said, raising her eyebrow. “I love you, it’s not your age or your looks, it’s who you are as a person. And your glutes.”

Laine chuckled and leaned forward, shifting the cup aside so she could focus in on him, “We all have that moment, I’ve had it before.  I still love things I did when I was a girl and I won’t leave them behind because it might be seen as immature. I can’t just rub these tattoos off. One day I’ll have gray hair and ink. Just like you will, you’ll still be that punk from Dalhart deep down.”

The silence fell between them, the idea of growing old was not so secure anymore to Laine but she left aside her fears. “I knew what I was getting into. I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

Laine put her hand out to him, her pale skin against the wooden table, “Besides, now I’ll always be the young one.” 

“Yeah, well,” Donnelley gave a quirk of his brow and a thoughtful look up and away like he was wondering over how they were splitting the take from this thing, “What do I get, then?”

Laine took a bite of her ice cream, curling her tongue against the spoon. Her smile shifted from affectionate to carnal, "You get to bang a hot younger girlfriend, of course."

She kicked him gently with her boot, tapping his foot as she took another slow bite of the melting Blizzard. Donnelley smirked and bit his lip, the smirk only growing as the toe of her boot thumped his, “I’ll take it.”

After they finished eating, they continued the walk up the street. The wind picked up, cooling now as the dark clouds moved closer, filling in the blue hot sky. A faint rumble of thunder could be heard among the several flashes of heat lightning. 

The gas station was a sprawling lot of a store, a car repair, and a drive thru car wash along with a bank of gas pumps. As the first drops began to fall, Laine and Donnelley stepped under the canopy. 

"What's the plan now?" she asked, watching the rain falling in sudden heavy sheets beyond the pumps. "We're not walking in this."

“Come on,” Donnelley smiled at her over his shoulder as he stepped forward and at least let his arm touch the rain. “Used to do it all the time.”

It might have been the same rain as anywhere else in the world, but it was the first thing here that he remembered and didn’t have bad memories of. First thing here that had at least run over to see him now he was back, and with thunderous applause too, heavy drips punching the concrete. When he saw Laine wasn’t too keen on braving the torrent, his smile shrank a bit, but still held some mirth, “I figure I call my uncle up. Short notice, but he’ll be happy to see me.” He said, then sided up with Laine again to watch the rain and hold her hand, “See [i]us.[/i] He’ll like the company, gets lonely on the ranch.”

Laine raised her brow at him, “I’m not going to meet your uncle with wet jeans and make up running down my face.” 

She watched the torrent of rain, how fast it had swept in and unloaded. It reminded her of the monsoon season in southern California when they would get caught out in it occasionally during August and let it drench them. Kids back then, just as Donnelley was probably remembering. 

Thunder rumbled closer now, cracking sharp right after the flash of lightning and vibrating the air around them. Water poured off the corners of the canopy, the wind whipping it back at them as they waited. “Do these usually take long? Hell of a rain,” she said, now standing closer to him, her hand slipping into his. 

She could see a few people pull in to wait out the storm but they did not look worried, covering their heads to make a run for the convenience store. Donnelley shrugged like it wasn’t anything to him, “Just wait a few minutes.” He said, looking at the roiling clouds and furious rain, “Summer storms down here don’t last long. Twice as hard, twice as quick. We can get some snacks here if you want, I can call my uncle after.”

He smiled at the convenience store like he was seeing an old friend. Or at least a place he and some old friends had gotten drunk and taken part in any manner of debauchery and mischief, “Good ol’ Toot’n Totum, baby. You need somethin’- [i]anythin’[/i]- you’ll find it here.”

He stood with his hands on his hips as he nodded and grinned at that old sign. Or at least the new sign, with the old name. He sniffed then, “If anythin’s you need is gas and cheap junk food, ‘least.”

Laine raised an eyebrow at that, “Anything? You think they’ll have cloves?”

The rain almost on cue began to slack and within minutes was done. The cloud burst rolled south and the sun pierced the gray clouds, the rainbow sheen of oil slicks on the parking lot gleaming in the light. Water dripped from the overhead canopy as Laine stepped out, ducking a drop. “Let’s take a look then.”

Inside the Toot’n Totum was a large convenience store with shelves crammed with all sorts of junk food, travel items, automotive basics, and the random shit that one might forget at the grocery store. She picked up a round pecan candy, the homemade praline stamped with a sticker ‘Made In Texas’. 

She brought the candies and some trail mix and bottles of water and a Snickers up to the counter. Glancing at Donnelley, “I’m gonna get a scratch off ticket and see how bad my luck is.” 

“You got put into a team with me,” Donnelley muttered, smirking as he placed a protein bar and a Bang energy drink on the counter next to a bag of Salsitas chips, “Sure you don’t know your luck already?”

The one thing Toot'n didn't have was the clove cigarettes but they suggested the Smoke Shop in town. Laine paid cash out of habit, taking her five dollar scratch off and tucking it into her bag. "I would say that was pretty lucky, among other things," she said, the memory of another gas station far to the north and an unlikely reunion came to mind. "I made sure to take a Snickers, you know how I get hangry."

“Darn toot’n,” Donnelley said, smirking at the chubby, sparse bearded teenager as he dropped a bill and some coins in his hand unamused, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

He snatched up his little plastic bag full of goodies and they headed for the door. As they made their way into the parking lot, the soles of their shoes squelching in the wet asphalt was the only sound they made. Donnelley looked at Laine, wriggling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and biting one out, lighting it, “You really mean that? You feel lucky you met me?”

Laine took a quarter from her change and dug out the scratch off ticket from her bag as they walked. She glanced at him, cigarette between his lips and that searching squint of his blue eyes. 

She met his gaze and smiled a little, her voice soft when she said, "You're so cool."

Feeling the heat rose to her cheeks she added, "Of course I feel lucky. I remember you standing there with that thrasher cap. It's when I really took notice, not that you didn't have a presence in a suit buy that caught my eye. And of course when you saved me from Marlene and put your jacket on my shoulders and kept me from shaking apart."

Laine looked up at him, "I remember when we were in that motel room together, alone the first time and you rolled your shirt sleeves up. I wanted you, I could have thrown myself at you at that moment, did you know that? I am damn lucky to have you now."

Donnelley had twisted his face into a badly done act of someone on the verge of tears, the half-assed quivering lip that was more just a slow scrape of his bottom lip against his top teeth the thing to bring the ensemble together. He flinched and let out a cackle as Laine dug a playful punch into his shoulder. He softened then, looking at Laine in the light of the gas station’s neon signs, the clouds lending a darkness still to the scene. He had to say, there could be worse people to be in his old hometown with. And that’d probably be all of them except for her, “I love you.” And he pulled her into a tight embrace and a deep kiss.

Laine shook her head and laughed softly as he took the light hit of her fist, "You ass. I was being serious."

She moved into his arms when he pulled her close, returning his kiss regardless of others in the parking lot. Laine looked up at him, then gave his beard a little tug. "I love you, too, old man."

After pressing against him again, she murmured, "Are you going to call your uncle?" 

“Best watch it with that [i]old man[/i] stuff.” Donnelley wagged a finger at Laine, chuckling as he shoved a hand in the pocket of his jeans to slip out his phone. He took some time finding his uncle’s number. Knowing that old, stubborn bastard it was the same one and would always be until he was six feet in the red dirt of the countryside.

It took a couple rings, and Donnelley almost thought he wouldn’t pick up at all until he heard the other end pick up. He sounded like he still had sleep in his voice, “What’chu callin’ me at this damn hour for, son?”

“It’s three in the afternoon, old man.” Donnelley snorted, looking up at that dark, gray sheet of clouds. It was fast moving away down south or to Oklahoma, waiting it’s turn for the beating.

“Oh.” Was all Donnelley’s uncle said, “Well, a’right, still ain’t answered my darn question.”

“I’m hopin’ you got room at the ranch. For me, and another.” Donnelley asked, sheepish smile on his face and a dumb hope in his voice that old Uncle Ted could spare the time for him these days. The impromptu trip to Texas was just that, and far from it to just expect to be housed on such short notice was Donnelley.

A long silence on the other end that took Donnelley’s heart and squeezed. Had his uncle had any hard feelings about him being a rare sight? Uncle Ted grunted, grumbled something under his breath and then said, “Yeah, okay, anythin’ for my golden [i]goddamn[/i] nephew.” Even if it was harsh, he could hear the smile in that old man’s cigarette-worn voice, “Where’bout are you? And who’s this [i]other[/i] I’m ‘bout to be entertainin’?”

“A girl-“

“A [i]girl![/i]” Uncle Ted sputtered in laughter raucous enough Laine might even hear from his phone, “Well, ain’t that a damn relief, son. I knew what the talk about town was with you and your friends way back, and I thought Holly was a good cover.”

“Yeah, a’right, [i]old man.[/i]” Donnelley made a quick glance Laine’s way, hoping she didn’t hear, “I’m here in Dalhart, Toot’n Totum over next to the Dairy Queen.”

“Yeah, I’ll be a quick second. Fancy that, though, ol’ Francine needs her some gas too.” Uncle Ted and that old-as-dirt Chevy.

“Thanks, Uncle.” Donnelley smiled, hoping ol’ Francine was still up for the trip.

“No problem, son. You know I’m there when y’need.”

Donnelley kept that smile, knowing Uncle Ted always meant every word he threw past his teeth. He’d taken him in for a couple months when he was a kid, just so his father wouldn’t strangle him for stealing his gun that fateful night, “I know, Uncle. I’ll be seein’ ya.”

>…///

It really wasn’t a long wait. But every second Donnelley was anxious. What would his uncle say about the look of him now, the scar, the harder look in his eyes. All the things he’d seen and done worn plainly in scars, ones you could easily pick out amongst the flesh, and those you couldn’t. He sat on the curb, his hand in Laine’s. He swallowed another gulp of Bang down even if the caffeine wasn’t helping his nerves any and smiled at the woman by his side, giving her hand a squeeze.

“He’ll love you.” Donnelley said, as if she was the more nervous out of the two of them.

Laine could hear Donnelley's side of the conversation but watched his body language and face closer without being intrusive. A prodigal son returning, there was an apprehensive expectancy as he spoke into the phone. 

She took a seat on the curb, the new cowboy boots were starting to make her feet hurt after the walk through town. When he joined her, Laine took his hand and held it on her thigh, returning the squeeze. 

"I hope I got the right boots," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure there's subtle intricacies to cowboy fashion I won't understand. What if these Idaho boots somehow violate the Texas aesthetic?"

Laine bumped her shoulder against his, giving his hand another squeeze. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you." 

Ol’ Francine was true to her name. In that she was old. She was loud, she stank of exhaust, she was big and unapologetic about it. The red paint used to be uniform, but now the hood was a dull gray, and the door they could see was tan. Uncle Ted had been replacing parts on that truck in lieu of letting her die, and Donnelley reckoned at this point, it probably didn’t have an original piece in it. The horn honked twice when they saw him, and he pulled up next to a gas pump. After a few moments, he came walking over. Uncle Ted once had the same red hair as Donnelley, though the beard was traded for a long mustache. The mustache was still there, as always, but the hair was dried out and gray as the hood on Ol’ Francine.

His features were well worn, craggy, and harsh from years in the sun and wind. His eyes were as Donnelley remembered, the sly eyes of a joker, always smiling even if the lips weren’t, like every time he walked up to you he had the perfect joke ready to fling, “Howdy,” he said, in full rancher splendor of blue jeans, flannel, Carharrt coat, and the eponymous boots and hat, which he tipped Laine’s way. Always the Southern gentleman, “You must be this ‘other’ I’ve heard so much ‘bout. Now that I’m in the flesh, may I ask you your name?”

He smiled, probably the same smile he’d made his wife fall for, maybe not pearly anymore, but full of humor as it always was. The slight gut probably wasn’t present at the time either, “All hat, no brains over here neglected to tell me.” He smiled and winked at Donnelley.

Laine smoothed her vintage western blouse down to her waist, clasping her hands together as the beat up truck creaked and grunted to a stop. She watched the man emerge, an almost modern cowboy, tall and lean and the blue eyes that peered at her felt a little familiar. 

When he asked her name, she offered her hand to shake, "I am that ‘other’. Heather Laine, nice to meet you."

“Gotta say,” He smiled at Laine as he took her hand and gently shook, “You’re quite somethin’, Miss Laine. Hopefully, my boy Joey here ain’t been too much of a headache. Has he calmed down since I last saw him?”

“I’m right here.” Donnelley grumbled, but still smiling to see a truly good man smiling to see him.

“D’you hear that?” Ted quirked his brow.

Laine let her title stay unsaid, the old timers sometimes had suspicious reactions to psychologists. She smiled back at Uncle Ted, tilting her head slightly, "He's not too much of a headache, and as far as calmed down I'm not sure but maybe I've been a little influence on him."

She gave Donnelley a sly little look and a hint of a smile, then turned back to Ted. "Must be the wind. I don't think the wind ever stops blowing up here."

Laine reached back for Donnelley’s hand and shook her head, “A lot of times blowing hot air.” 

“Oh, y’all’re a couple’a jokers.” Donnelley rolled his eyes with a smile as he took Laine’s hand in his.

Uncle Ted raised his brows as he took Donnelley in. His eyes went from boots to brow, and he gave a little nod, “Army sure did a number on that brother of mine.”

“Much the same experience, gotta say.” Donnelley shrugged.

“It’s good to see you back after all this time, son. You got no idea what you learn to miss when everyone else is… [i]you know.[/i]” [i]Dead.[/i] Uncle Ted’s smile faltered a bit. No matter how much of an asshole his brother, Donnelley’s father, had been after he came back from Vietnam he was still just that. Ted’s brother. Uncle Ted pulled his smile back up and offered his hand out to Donnelley, “Army takes a lot from a man. Takes a different kind to do it for as long as you are. Or did.”

Donnelley took Uncle Ted’s hand, but was almost unexpectedly pulled into a tight embrace, the air in his chest pounded out by Uncle Ted’s surprisingly heavy hands. The man was slim, but solid. Uncle Ted held him out by his shoulders, “Gotta say, you’re bigger’n than that lil’ bastard gettin’ stuck in everybody’s craw I once knew.”

“They feed me good.” Donnelley winked and Uncle Ted gave him one more deceptively solid smack on his shoulder before he stepped back.

“So, what’s first on the agenda now that ol’ Francine’s all filled up? Y’all wantin’ to grab a bit in town, or go out on the range and cook us up some good cowboy eatin’?” Uncle Ted stood back, smiling just to have some people to entertain.

Laine observed their interaction from a corner of her eye, not staring to allow them a semi private moment. The mention of Mr. Donnelley brought back the memory of the canned sausages. It had stuck with her for some reason, maybe the absurdity of the pathetic image or just the sadness of a man so crippled by his demons to deny a simple pleasure of trying something outside his tiny world. 

At the mention of food, she was still full from Dairy Queen but tapped her booted foot and said, “I didn’t wear these to strut around a McDonalds, I would love to go to your ranch and try cowboy cooking, Mr. Donnelley.” 

Uncle Ted chuckled, “Now [i]that’s[/i] my girl. I still got some steaks need eatin’ I got from Tuck’s shop.” Uncle Ted raised his brow, “‘Course, I also got some deer meat. Some snake, if you’re adventurous, shot one in my pasture and got the idea to go lookin’ for a few more just to try it.”

Donnelley was thinking about that snake, hadn’t had it since training with those Marines in the Phillipines a few years back. He looked at Laine and shrugged, “Lady’s choice. Could go huntin’ for rabbit too, whatever you want.”

Laine raised her brows at the idea of snake and glanced at Donnelley, “Sounds like there’s enough meat to choose from without killing bunnies. I would like to try venison, I had some elk jerky in...once. It was good.” 

She held her tongue on Alaska, not wanting to dredge up the dark memories from that place. Squeezing Donnelley’s hand, she said, “You said something about riding though?” 

He smiled, imagining riding out with his uncle and Laine on the prairies, “Uncle Ted’s got a fair few horses, right?”

“Sure do!” Uncle Ted piped up, just as excited to be in the saddle again, “We’ll take a ride out to the country, get a fire goin’ and look at the big sky above. Night time’s darn beautiful ‘round these parts, not as many lights as ‘round Dallas.”

“I would enjoy that,” Laine said, even if camping was not high on her list of fun. The idea of the open sky and the pleasure on the old man’s face at the chance to show off the natural beauty of his land was enough. “I don’t get to see the stars too often where I’m from, too much light pollution among other sorts. Just the brightest, you know?” 

She eyed Francine then glanced back at the Toot’n Totum, “Do we need anything else before we go? Mr. Donnelley, would you care for a six pack or anything?” 

“Of Dr. Pepper, maybe. I mix it with my whiskey.” Uncle Ted smiled, then caught himself, “Goodness, where’re my manners. Miss Laine, my name is Ted Donnelley, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Laine nodded her head once, a little smile forming at the mention of whiskey. Of course it was whiskey. “It is nice to meet you too, Ted. I’ll run and get that soda.”

She turned to go back into the store, the heels of her boots clicking against the pavement as she walked. The sidewalk was already drying as the sun made its presence known, the shift of breeze and the rain washed air felt cooler against her skin. Even a faint presence of autumn made her mood shift upward, a change was coming. 

>TED DONNELLEY RANCH
>6 MILES SOUTHEAST OF DALHART
>1645

Ted and Donnelley each pushed a door swinging open, leaving Laine standing in the middle of the open doorway of the tall-roof stable. The inside was well-lit, and the floors were clean and meticulously kept. It was clear by the organized tools and such that even in Ted’s old age and loneliness that he didn’t let himself bow to time’s hand ceaselessly graying his hair and hunching his back. As Donnelley eyed the few horses that Ted still kept and the pristine conditions they lived in, he knew this was probably what kept Ted above the ground, if he knew his uncle.

Each of the stables, even the ones empty now, had a brass nameplate inscribed with each one’s name. As was their luck, there were three left in the stable, one chestnut and two black. Ted pointed to the chestnut, “This beauty’s name is Cassidy,” Ted walked over to the horse and lay a hand on her, petting her muzzle, “She’s ‘bout as faithful as a horse can ever get, stamina like a damn Olympian, could probably run her all the way to Brazil and back, tell you what.”

“That one there’s Comanche, and Josey’s the other’n.” Ted tipped his hat to the two old friends of his, “Decide ‘tween ya which one’s either of yours and we’ll get ready to head out. I’m fixin’ to take y’all to me and Elizabeth’s old spot.”

Donnelley looked at Ted and found him with that same smile, but a far off look. He’d missed his aunt by a fair few years, he knew. Wasn’t the only thing lost to time since he’d been away for damn near a decade now. He gave Comanche a parting pat on his side as he huffed, going to plant a hand on his uncle’s shoulder, “Thank you, Uncle. You takin’ us in means a lot.” Donnelley smiled, “Let’s make up for some lost time.”

“Reckon we should, son.” Uncle Ted looked away from his memories and clapped Donnelley’s shoulder, “Now, let’s get to it. Miss Laine, how’re you gettin’ along, you in need of help, you just come on and ask me y’hear?”

Laine admired the clean stable as she walked through it, the horses taking notice of the pair of strangers. She looked at Donnelley patting Comanche so she chose the other black gelding. 

"I don't know how to saddle or anything," she admitted when Ted asked how she was doing. "The times I've been riding it was done for me. Anything you can tell me about Josey."

“Named after Josey Wales, but ain’t half as mean. He’ll let you ride him, won’t have to worry ‘bout him buckin’ you.” Uncle Ted smiled as he stroked Josey’s muzzle, the steed responding in kind with a bob of his head, “Won’t have a problem with him long as you don’t beat him or somethin’.”

Uncle Ted walked away to retrieve a saddle, Josey’s very own, by his name stitched into the seat in kitsch Western font. He went about securing it around Josey while explaining the process to Laine as she watched, the horse being used to it by now. In no time at all, Josey was ready to ride, and Uncle Ted smiled, “Next time, you’ll saddle the boy up while I tell you what to do. ‘Fore long, you’ll be a real as real cowgirl.”

“Won’t be just a girl with some boots.” Donnelley clucked his tongue and winked at Laine as he hefted his own saddle up onto Comanche, securing it as if he’d been doing it every day for the eight years he’d been gone from Texas, “We got ourselves a gang now.”

Laine eyed Josey warily, the black horse snorting softly, she stroked her hand along the glossy neck. He had a small swirl of white hair between his eyes, a faint star and she gave it a scratch as he lowered his head. She smiled at Ted’s comment, “A real California cowgirl.” 

Once the horses were tacked, they were led out of the barn and into the sunlight of the afternoon. The sky had been swept clean of clouds, the storm just a memory to the earth that had rapidly absorbed what rain it could and the runoff had travelled the path of least resistance down into creeks and arroyos that criss crossed the plains. Now an achingly blue sky arched above them, the sun making its trip westward. 

Laine managed to swing into the saddle after only two hops for momentum and settled into it, checking the stirrup length with Ted’s assistance. She looked over at Donnelley, “Tex rides again with Red Ted and Doc.” 

Donnelley gave his best roguish grin and his kissy faces to Laine. Uncle Ted was smiling between the two, and he looked at Laine, “[i]Doc,[/i] huh?” He finished adjusting the stirrups to Laine’s length and stood back, “Never took… [i]Tex[/i] as someone who’d be able to rope in the interest of a [i]Doc.[/i] You a, uh, like a surgeon or somesuch?”

Laine chuckled at Donnelley's reaction, a faint blush rising in her pale face. She smiled slightly at his uncle’s question, “Nothing so useful, I’m afraid. I’m a head doc with the Bureau.” 

“Psychologist, okay,” That good humor always in his eyes spread to his grin, and it grew that much more with the next words just on his lips, “That’s good. He needs one.” He chuckled, nodding at Donnelley.

“Yeah, most likely. You were there for it, Uncle.” Donnelley sheepishly smiled and scratched at his beard.

“Yeah, I was.” Uncle Ted shook his head at the memory of that young punk. Teaching Joseph Donnelley manners back then was like breaking a stubborn horse. Uncle Ted learned to take the small victories where he could, and by the end of it, he’d been more of a father to Donnelley than his dad ever was. “I still remember you showin’ up on my doorstep after ol’ Pa gave you the boot.”

Uncle Ted looked at Laine, “Damn fool got dropped off by Sheriff Gracy. Well, he was a Deputy back then, but I had Joey standin’ on my front porch couldn’t even look me in the eye.” Uncle Ted was smiling now, unlike then, as Donnelley remembered, “Gracy explained to me what happened. Said Earl didn’t even want him back. I had a mind to turn him away right there, but the boy’s my blood.”

“Couldn’t see him sleepin’ on the sidewalks like some of them bums in the city. ‘Sides, after he told me the story, I had to take him in.” Uncle Ted looked at Donnelley and Donnelley looked back, “Taught this here heathen some good manners. Weren’t a nice man all the time, but a damn sight better’n whatever was at home.”

Donnelley smiled at his uncle, nodding, “Taught me what it was to be a man. Ain’t just the clothes, or the big talk, or the boots. It’s gettin’ up and makin’ sure you keep gettin’ up.”

“Even if it’s just to see another sunrise.” Uncle Ted hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and smiled at Laine, “Never had one of my own, but I reckon I can house train a stray damn good, can’t I?”

Laine listened and watched the unspoken expressions playing out over the men's faces. Donnelley was complicated but she had known that and what she was in for when she took his hand in the car that day. Or at least she thought she had, but she was willing to work at it. 

She smiled a little, resting her hands on the horn of the western saddle. "I think you did a fine job, Ted. It's amazing what a positive parental type figure in a boy's life can do. He could have gone down a much different path."

Her own extensive experience studying the backgrounds of perpetrators and victims of heinous crimes had taught her that a boy with Donnelley's upbringing could have been a lot worse off. Either in prison or a statistic, but instead he was here. Saving the fucking world one day at a time.

“Yeah, I’ll say.” Uncle Ted nodded at the two, “Well, enough talkin’. Figure you’re both wantin’ to get out on the trails.”

Donnelley opened up Comanche’s stable and led him out, reins in his fist. He stuck one foot in the stirrups and mounted up as Uncle Ted opened Josey’s stable and led the horse out before mounting Cassidy, “I got all the stuff for us layin’ out at me and Elizabeth’s spot. Stuff’s been sittin’ for a bit, so hopefully it’s still there.” Ted laughed as he urged Cassidy on and out the main doors.

“You ready for this ride, cowgirl?” Donnelley said, siding up next to Laine.

Laine glanced over at him, “I’m ready, just keep close in case I need help.”

They left the barn and headed down the caliche path until they passed the gate that separated the homestead and the wide open pasture. Everywhere it was flat dun colored land with clumps of spiny yucca and grey-green sage dotting the plain. The grass was short and sparse after a long dry summer, the ripening seed heads the same color as the dusty earth. 

Laine examined it with an eye, comparing it to southern California where hills and mountains bumped up between desert and ocean. Here there was so much nothing and the wind whipped across it, the constant companion in the great empty. She looked at Donnelley riding beside her, a rugged man carved by the nature of this land and the hard people it would take to want to stubbornly stake a living in the high plains. 

And at Ted just ahead of them, a lone rider against the backdrop of big sky and prairie, the cowboy ideal. Laine could see why Donnelley retained the name [i]Tex[/i], it was not just his accent. He was a cowboy, a man expecting himself to be able to handle anything that came his way through sheer stubbornness and grit and do it his own way. 

Laine mused on the idea as they rode, letting them talk as they would and Ted giving them the guided tour, pointing out any interesting thing that would have passed by her eyes unseen. The vague depressions in the dust of antelope prints or the small holes dotting the land as they passed through a prairie dog town. She shifted in the saddle, squeezing her legs to make Josey pick up the pace. The black gelding was a gentle ride but he sensed her inexperience and would stop to crop at the clumps of grass rather than stay at a steady pace. 

She clucked her tongue at him as the horse lifted his head and without warning Josey snorted loudly and bolted, crow hopping in a bucking sideways motion. Laine fell forward onto the neck of the gelding, grabbing at his mane  and holding her legs hard against him even as she felt herself lifted from the saddle. 

“Whoa! Shit,” she cursed, clinging to the horn before letting go as Josey kicked his heels again and began to move faster. Laine hit the ground and rolled, dust coating her black blouse and jeans. As she lay there, catching her breath, she heard the sound. 

[i]T-t-t-tssssss[/i]

A sizzling rattle somewhere in the cluster of yucca that made her freeze. She had never heard it before but somewhere in her caveman brain knew it was dangerous. Josey had known it too by the slithering movement and now the prairie dogs barked short high pitched sounds, telling each other the danger that lurked. 

From Donnelley’s place in the saddle, he could see the rattlesnake hidden in the tall grass. Just a hint of it, well-hid by the color of its scales and skin. And he didn’t like how close it was to Laine. No doubt, it didn’t either. Donnelley tugged his shirt up to expose the butt of his FN handgun, sliding it from the kydex holster at his side. Uncle Ted was already cautiously approaching, slow as slow, with his hands up as if the rattlesnake was armed too. He’d dismounted the second he’d heard Laine’s troubles. With Donnelley’s handgun trained square at whatever he could see of the snake in the brush, Uncle Ted slowly came to one knee on the other side of the trail from Laine.

“Now, I’m gonna have you crawl to me, a’right? [i]Real[/i] slow-like now, okay?” Uncle Ted tried on a smile for Laine’s benefit, though Donnelley wasn’t too much in the mood for one.

“I got it in my sights.” He growled, though Comanche was shifting uncomfortably away from the deathly sound.

Uncle Ted shook his head, “No, no. He ain’t in our land, we’re in his.” Uncle Ted waved Laine over to him, “Real slow, you’re fine.”

Laine used her elbows and knees to belly crawl towards Ted, her muscles quivering with the desire to jump up and run. Slowly she made her way to him and glanced back, the coiled snake shaking its long rattle. It was out of striking range now, at least she hoped. 

“You got it, come on.” Uncle Ted smiled, taking Laine’s hand and helping her to her feet now she was away from the snake. “Now let’s get you back in the saddle.”

Laine pulled herself up with his help, dusting off her jeans and looking back nervously at the coiled serpent. It was far enough now and seemed to have no desire to come after her, all the while rattling its tail and watching. 

With a boost from Ted, she swung back into the saddle several yards away. Josey snorted warily and she stroked his neck, trying to calm her own nerves that he picked up and compounded his own. 

“Let’s get out of here,” she said as Ted moved to his horse. They were back on the trail that he led them on, the flatness of the plain giving way to an undulation in the land that was invisible from a distance. 

Laine rubbed her elbow, it ached where she had hit it on a stone, no doubt leaving a bruise. There was a lone tree, stunted and with sprawling branches it hunched against the incessant wind. It grew over a deep cut in the earth, a creek bed that would fill only after the sudden storms and for just a brief time. It was already almost dry now, the clay cracking in the sun. 

It seemed to be a landmark for Ted as he turned toward it. Donnelley followed, bringing up the rear and trying to steady himself from the encounter. To think, he made it out of West Virginia none too worse for wear and here he was now, getting jumpy from a brush with a snake no longer than his arm. When they crossed the dry creek Uncle Ted lowered himself from his saddle at the top of a hill. A fire pit with blackened chunks of wood and a pile of fresh logs just next to it.

“You want to get us a fire, son?” Uncle Ted smiled over at Donnelley before he started to unpack things from his saddlebags.

Donnelley dropped from his saddle, Comanche wasting no time in busying himself with sniffing around the short grass. He offered his hand to Laine so he could help her out of the saddle, a true southern gentleman.

Laine stretched her back once down from the horse and felt the soreness from the fall settling in. There would be bruises under her blouse, she could feel it. She stood back as Donnelley prepared a fire, trying not to be in the way when Ted tended to the horses. She found a spot to settle down and sit, making sure it was clear of any critters that might have claimed it since the last visit of humanity. 

A mixture of fat wood and feather-sticks made a good fire, and after a few minutes Donnelley put the first of the logs over the small flames and hoped they’d grow. He sat next to Laine, his arms around his knees as he breathed in the smell of campfire smoke, something he hadn’t smelled in quite a while. All around them was quiet, no cars, no people except for them. Cicadas on the wind, and he’d noticed that Uncle Ted had brought his guitar case. A real cowboy campfire on the plains, for sure. He looked at Laine and smiled, softly bumping her shoulder with his, “How you like Texas so far?”

Laine rolled up her sleeves, tucking the cuffs in and watched the flames grow as the sun drew down in the west. The whirring insects in the last heat of the day mingled with the crackling dead wood. She glanced over at Donnelley and leaned a little towards him, “It’s just like the movies.”

She smiled, her hand slipping to cover his on his knee for a moment while Ted busied himself. Laine added, “I am glad you shared this with me, I’m enjoying myself. It’s nice to be away from everything for a little while. Seeing this place, it helps me understand where you came from, cowboy.”

Chuckling in a low tone, she squeezed his hand and let go, pulling back to lay her hands against her thighs. “Your uncle makes it easy, I wonder how it’ll be when you meet my family.” 

“I’ll turn up the charm [i]real good.[/i]” He winked at her as he watched Uncle Ted set up with his makeshift pan and pot. Getting ready to cook up some dinner. He smirked at Laine, “Should I tell ‘em I’m a dashin’ international spy for the CIA that swept you off your feet, or somethin’ more believable… like, uh, a firefighter or somethin’?”

“Gotta admit, I don’t really look like office manager material.” He chuckled.

Laine rolled her eyes and leaned into him again, “It doesn’t really matter, my dad will just want to know if you treat me right and my mother will find any fault or make one up unless you flatter her. She was critical of Alex despite him being a doctor until we broke up and she made sure to lament how I had messed up and not married a doctor.”

She looked up at him, her green eyes searching his blue, “She’s not easy to get along with but I can give you a few hints. I’ll make a cheat sheet on how to get on my mom’s good side.” 

“A cheat sheet for a [i]person.[/i] She sounds lovely.” Donnelley snorted, “I’m sure she’s gonna love this simple country boy from the plains.”

Laine clasped her hands in her lap, “You laugh, but you’ll thank me later. I told you about her. She’s a lot. You can make up whatever you want to tell her, you have my permission. Just be honest with my Dad, he’s going to love you if you love me and treat me right.” 

She paused for a moment, then reached for her lighter and the pack of cigarettes wedged in her pocket. Lighting up, she added, “If you’re real lucky, you’ll get to meet my Pappa Eerikki. You two would probably get along, you got enough war stories to swap anyway. I mean, he’ll still hate you when he meets you but he hates everyone until they earn a reason not to be disliked.”

Laine blew smoke out and grinned slightly, raising her eyebrows at Donnelley, “And I’m his favorite grandchild.”

Donnelley whistled and puffed out his cheeks, “Got a lot to live up to then. I’ll have to apologize for not bein’ some kind of fancy doctor or entrepreneur.” He chuckled, “I’m just simple Joseph, sorry ‘bout that.”

Laine leaned over and kissed his bearded cheek, holding her clove cigarette away from him. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s just my mom and I’ve stopped really caring about her opinion of things a long time ago. I just keep the peace for my dad’s sake. Don’t worry about it.” 

She met his eyes briefly, it was mostly true about her mother but there was still a small part deep down that wanted the approval of the woman that birthed her. 

>DONNELLEY RANCH
>1900…///

It had been a nice dinner, as odd of a choice the meat was. Snake had a gamey flavor, strong notes that even though it tasted of chicken and beef, it still had its own uniqueness to it. Donnelley didn’t mind, having long ago gotten used to eating stranger things when desperate, but if it was on a restaurant menu he wasn’t sure he’d have picked it out. More about the experience, anyway. It was paired with Mexican rice and refried beans Uncle Ted had made himself, and he’d regaled them with the story of how he’d learned to make it.

Traveling to Mexico and running off with a Señorita, being chased through Juarez by her family until he was finally forced to give it all up and cross back into Texas when the actual law got involved. Even with all that adventure behind him, when the conversation turned to Donnelley’s Aunt Ellie, Ted had a look in his eye that wasn’t there talking about his adventures in Mexico. Donnelley smiled along with his Uncle Ted, remembering how sweet of a woman his Aunt Ellie was. If Heaven was real, Donnelley knew she’d be up there, without a doubt.

“And Tecumseh, that mean bastard of a horse, you could see him gallopin’ along with Joey hangin’ on for dear life.” Uncle Ted could hardly get the words past his smiling lips without erupting into another fit of laughter, “I- I’m talkin’ ‘bout he was [i]draggin’[/i] the poor boy. Joey was cussin’ and spittin’, and Ellie was beggin’ me to ride out and get that horse lassoed so her poor boy didn’t get his head kicked off.”

“Oh, Lord, I could hardly hear her over my laughin’ watchin’ the whole show.” Uncle Ted quieted down and he and Donnelley spent a moment just sitting and smiling. “Yeah, That’s the story of Joseph Donnelley, young cowpoke tryin’ to break his first horse without it breakin’ him.”

“My Aunt Ellie didn’t know whether to beat the hell outta her husband or fuss over my bruises. She was doin’ both, really.” Donnelley chuckled, his Panhandle accent returning en force with the whiskey and the feeling of being home. “Then she gave me a talkin’-to ‘bout takin’ the Lord’s name in vain like that.”

“Yeah, big heart, that woman. We never did have any children of our own, so she took to raisin’ this knucklehead like tall grass takes a spark.” Uncle Ted nodded, “Sometimes, her beggin’ me to give the boy a chance were the only reason he had a roof over his head.”

Donnelley looked away, somewhat guilty for the hard times he’d put his Aunt and Uncle through, “Yeah. I really do ‘preciate it.”

“I know you do. Ellie really did, she loved you, son.” Uncle Ted smiled. “I do. Like you were our own.”

Uncle Ted sighed, looking off and away for a few moments before he looked to Laine, “I gotta ask, how did you two meet?”

Laine watched Donnelley during the story, a smile touching her lips as she pictured the young punk holding on for dear life on the back of a wild horse. The story about his Aunt Ellie was new, a nurturing figure in his rough and tumble life she had not figured into the equation. So this was where his chance had been, between his aunt and uncle and their compassion and love for a wayward boy. 

Ted’s question caught her off guard and she glanced over at Donnelley, wondering what lie they would have to spin. What did Ted know of his nephew’s work and how much would he let him know about. 

“Oh,” Donnelley was equally caught off guard by Laine’s silence, and her looking to him for support, “Well, after I got out of the Army, I started doin’ a little bit of consultin’. Security and whatnot for the State Department.”

“There was a meetin’ goin’ on in Quantico, big stuff that pretty much goes over my head anyway. I was workin’ security detail for some of the State folk there and that’s how we met.” Donnelley said, the wheel’s turning in his head like he was laying tracks right in front of the train as it sped down the rails. It was obvious he was used to lying, to anyone and everyone. He reached over and took Laine’s hand in his, smiling, “She was teachin’ a course and we got to talkin’ on one of our breaks. Turns out we like the same music, rest is history.”

“Ain’t that right?” Donnelley squeezed Laine’s hand.

The lie sat heavy and Laine forced herself to smile as if recalling it fondly. Not even close to the reality but she could not lay that burden down here. She squeezed Donnelley's hand, looking at him and the smooth way he lied to his beloved uncle. She shrugged a little and added,  "That's pretty much it. We just clicked."

Laine released his hand when she felt her phone start to vibrate in her pocket and pulled it out. She saw who it was and smiled a little warmer, pushing back from the table. "Excuse me, I need to take this call," she said, sliding her finger over the phone to answer it. "Hey, Ava. What's up?"

Donnelley’s heart dropped into his stomach as he heard Laine greet Ava on the other end of the phone. He swallowed, retrieving his pack of cigarettes from his coat and shoving one between his lips, “I’ll be outside for a quick second.”

“I’ll come with you.” Uncle Ted have Donnelley a smile as he rose from his chair.

Donnelley fixed his uncle with a stare for a moment before he nodded, forcing back what had fallen off of the nervous smile, “Sure thing, then.”

>…///

[i]“Hey Laine.”[/i] Ava greeted, some energy in her voice but she sounded very, very tired. [i]“Uh, is this a good time for you to talk?”[/i]

Laine glanced over at Donnelley and Ted, then stood up from her chair. The tone was not the usual bubbly voice and she knew already something was off.

 "Sure, just give me a moment to step outside," she said, walking towards the front door to let herself out. Laine stood on the porch, the moths fluttering around the light above her. 

"We have privacy now," Laine said, looking out past the glow of light into the darkness of the yard and the field beyond. 

"What's going on?"

“[i]...Okay, I don’t know how to say this well.[/i]” Ava said with a long sigh, her tone nervous with just a tinge of guilt coloring her voice. “[i]I-I don’t think I can go through with the party. I’m so sorry. I’ll hang onto the stuff we bought, maybe we can use it for next,”[/i] Her breath caught for a moment as she hesitated. “[i]...next year. Maybe.[/i]”

Laine listened and frowned slightly, waiting until Ava was done before responding. “Are you worried about the pressure to pull off a perfect party? I know it can be stressful but there’s no need for perfection, just everyone being there and having fun is good enough. It doesn’t have to go on all night either.”

She waited a moment, the anxiety of putting together a party and being the center of attention might be a reason but with the reality of UMBRA it could be something else, “Are you alright? How’ve you been sleeping lately?” 

“[i]Not great.[/i]” Ava answered honestly to her question about her sleeping. “[i]And it’s not the pressure of the party, I didn’t even think about it being perfect. I just wanted everyone to have fun.”[/i] Another heavy sigh came over the phone, one born of exhaustion and perhaps a small amount of lingering anger. [i]“Donnelley visited me a while ago and we hung out for a bit, but we got into a...really bad argument. About the future.”[/i] She sniffed softly. [i]“I just...I’m not in a party kind of place right now and I don’t...I’m not ready to see Donnelley after what happened.”[/i]

Laine frowned at that, reaching for her pack of cloves and Ava would hear the metallic click of her zippo lighter and a breathy inhalation and exhalation. “What did he say exactly?” 

In the darkness around the ranch house, crickets chirped now that the cicadas had grown quiet. In the distance, the yipping of coyotes was on the wind and the peace of the homestead was as fragile as anything. Shadows stretched from the porch and Laine leaned back against the door frame, “Was it about Alaska?” 

There was a long pause. [i]“...He said Alaska was my only chance to leave and have a normal life.”[/i] Ava said quietly, her voice rough with the sting of old hurt emotions. [i]“Our first night back, Dave and I were talking about maybe being able to walk away after the case was over, retiring or something and just living easy and normal lives. Maybe even living together. I would like that.”[/i] Her voice cracked.

[i]“Donnelley screamed at me how if it was possible to retire, he’d have done it a long time ago. He said that if I wanted a normal life, I should have stayed a ghost.”[/i] Her voice trembled, fresh tears likely streaming down her cheeks based on the raw emotion in her voice. [i]“I couldn’t do that Laine, you saw how Dave was after what happened. I couldn’t leave him in that Hell, I couldn’t let my family think I was dead. I just couldn’t Laine, that wasn’t the life I wanted.”[/i]

She sniffed loudy and took in a deep breath to steady herself. [i]“And the worst part was, Donnelley just left after that. I went to my bedroom to collect myself and when I came back out, he was just gone. The last thing he said to me was that the only ones that made it out were Maui and Avery. Then he just...he left me. Alone. And he hasn’t tried to talk to me since.”[/i]

There was another pause as Ava sniffed and fought to keep her breathing even and words clear. [i]“I don’t know what to do Laine. The future is so dark and I feel like the one little point of light of hope I had is gone and I’m just left in the abyss. What is the point of another sunrise, if every day ends in the same bleak darkness?”[/i]

Laine took a deep drag on her clove cigarette, the crackling sound audible in the country night. The Alaska incident reared its ugly head again, a true catch 22 they had faced but there had to be some other ending to it all. It could not have just been that chance or inevitable death but there were powers at work that Ava did not know about. 

Finally, she sighed out a ring of fragrant smoke and spoke into the phone, “I’m sorry he said that to you, because I don’t think it’s true. He’s been fighting this fight so long...look, there’s things going on that I can’t talk about over the phone, even a secure line like this. Did he tell you anything else? We have a chance, I think, it’s slim and will be hard fought but it’s a chance. As long as we’re alive, there’s hope, Ava. We were given a second chance, and it won’t be in vain.”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to believe it, she had to. The death of the woman she replaced in life was only one that hung on her. There were so many dead and future victims, there was their own future hanging now by a thread. But the thread existed. “Ava, it won’t be easy but we’re going to fight for it because we deserve it. That's all we can do.” 

Her voice grew huskier, “Don’t give up, we are all we have.” 

Laine grit her teeth, the desire to go inside and yank Donnelley out of his chair in front of Ted or not. The cigarette trembled between her fingers as she waited for Ava to reply. 

Ava breathed deeply over the other side of the phone, the faint tinkling of Thor’s collar joining the sound before the large cat meowed. [i]“Hi Thor,”[/i] Ava said with a soft huff of relief, no doubt petting the cat as he came to comfort her. [i]“We talked about some other stuff but that was kind of it. I don’t know what you’re talking about but if there’s a chance to end this...point me in a direction and I’ll get to work.”[/i] She said, her soft and emotionally raw voice suddenly hardening.

Laine drew on the cigarette, the cherry glowing bright and said softly, “Once I know, I’ll tell you. We’ll need absolute security, only UMBRA can know about what we do.” 

[i]“Alright,”[/i] Ava breathed out, the harshness leaving her voice with the exhale. [i]“Thank you Laine for listening. I’m sorry about the party, I really did want to throw it but now...I think I just want to go see Dave, see his mountain he’s been talking so much about. Maybe make holiday plans with my family.”[/i]

“Go see Dave,” Laine said, “Doctor’s orders. See him, enjoy that time and don’t worry about the party, we’ll celebrate when this is all over.”

She paused then added in a low voice, “And Ava, when I say only UMBRA knows, I mean only us. You, Dave, Donnelley, myself...for now.” 

[i]“I understand.”[/i] She said, her voice matching Laine’s grave tone. Her voice softened again, [i]“Thank you again, Laine. Really.”[/i]

>…///

Donnelley stepped outside through the back door at the dining area and onto the back porch. A rocking chair that he let his Uncle rest in while he took his seat on an overturned pail. The moment grew quiet between them for a moment as Donnelley lit his cigarette. “You got one for me?” His Uncle Ted asked, a brow raised at him.

“You still smoke?”

Uncle Ted shrugged, “Time to time.”

“A’right.” Donnelley handed his uncle the pack and he took one from it, tossing it lightly back to Donnelley for him to snatch it out of the air. He handed over his lighter, and the moment was quiet again as he took it back and slipped the lighter into his pocket.

It was just the two of them watching what was left of the sunset. Already, wailing coyotes could be heard somewhere far off,  and the wind rustled it’s way through the tall grass. Cricket song chirping from everywhere. Donnelley took a breath, closed his eyes and smelled the hay, the grass, the dirt, and the smell of burning tobacco.

“She would’ve been absolutely ecstatic to have you here, you know?” Donnelley heard his Uncle Ted and opened his eyes, looking at his uncle, shadows from the porch’s light making the deep lines in his face stand out. “My Ellie. Your aunt.”

Donnelley looked away from Uncle Ted and down to his cigarette, taking another drag. He nodded, “I know.”

“She missed you.” Uncle Ted said, “When her mind started goin’ she’d ask me where you were. Why you stopped comin’ in for supper.”

“Catch her sometimes hollerin’ for you to come in from the stables and come get some food in you.” He huffed a chuckle, remembering how even when she wasn’t all there, she still held onto some of the memories she loved most. “She’d have loved to meet Laine, too.”

“What is this?” Donnelley asked, the alcohol that had once given him a feeling of fuzzy numbness, a heaviness in his limbs now stoking the fire in him.

When Uncle Ted fixed him with his own stare, that fire died down. Just a little, “You and I both know I didn’t just bring you here so you could have your woman ride horses.” Uncle Ted pointed the cigarette at Donnelley, “You got a lot to explain to me, son. I swear, I have half a mind to cuff your dang ear.”

The two of them looked at each other in silence for a few long, pregnant moments. That old stare, the look Uncle Ted got in his eye whenever Donnelley really offended him. Few and far between, but just as heavy as the thunder and rain of a storm. Uncle Ted shook his head, “But, you and me, we’re too old for that nonsense. I just wanna know, son,” Uncle Ted had a quiver to his voice then, and he looked away from Donnelley blinking. He cleared his throat and took another drag, “I just wanna know why I had to explain to your auntie, the woman who raised you, why [i]you weren’t there.[/i]”

“She asked for you. In the hospital, she wouldn’t stop askin’ me to make sure to tell you that she was there,” Ted swallowed a lump in his throat, shaking his head, “I ain’t no [i]damn liar[/i], boy, and you know as much as me I ain’t.”

“But, I lied to my wife that I would tell you.” Uncle Ted dragged in a breath, then dragged off the cigarette and grimaced at it, “Now I remember why I stopped with these.”

He pinched the cherry out and pocketed the barely smoked cigarette, “I ain’t goin’ to sit here and beat you over the head with heartache. I [i]am[/i] glad you’re here with me.” Uncle Ted looked at Donnelley with a soft smile, “You don’t have to tell me if you [i]can’t.[/i] But, I expect to hear [i]somethin’[/i] from you.”

It grew quiet again as Donnelley took that in. He sniffled, and didn’t trust his voice to speak what with the squeezing ache in his chest and the wetness in his eyes he clenched his teeth to fight back. He looked out at the darkening sky, a strip of bloody orange on the horizon. “Any time now, son.” Uncle Ted smiled, “I ain’t mad. Can’t really smack you, you ain’t a kid no more, and I promised I wouldn’t be like your daddy. We’re just talkin’.”

Donnelley sighed, “My dad, when he came back from Vietnam. He wasn’t the same, like you told me, used to be nicer.” Donnelley remembered all those years spent trapped under Sergeant John Donnelley’s boot. Didn’t much like those memories, “Afghanistan ain’t much nicer a place than ‘Nam.”

“I didn’t come back much nicer’n my dad. You remember Holly and Tilly. I done things to fuck all that up.” Donnelley wrung his hands and took another drag, “After that I ran. Got discharged honorably as they’d let me, went and hooked up with the first place’d take me. Ran all over anywhere weren’t here.”

Uncle Ted sighed, “Eight years. Hell of a lot of runnin’.”

“Yeah.” Donnelley said, “Didn’t really wanna be reminded of anythin’ I used to be. Anywhere I used to go.”

“You think you changed any with all that travelin’?”

Donnelley frowned. If he had, it wasn’t for the better, mostly. Laine was the first time in eight years he’d made an effort not to be the piece of shit lying, whoring killer he felt he deserved to die being. He knew the answer, a simple no, or a shake of the head would suffice even. Instead he just shrugged. At least that wasn’t quite a lie. “I don’t know.” He spoke quietly on the night air, “I… I don’t know. I’m sorry I never came back.”

Uncle Ted gave him a consoling smile, a small one, just the slightest uptick at the corner of his lip, “I’m sorry too, son.” He said, just as quiet, “But you’re here now. That’s what matters. The Army- [i]a war[/i]- changes a man, just like your pa. Makes you good at only a few things. Man’s only got so much time to get good at somethin’.”

“Best be careful what you get good at doin’.” Uncle Ted fidgeted with his own hands, “You got time. A second chance with Laine. Make the most of it, ‘fore you’re my age and stuck.”

Donnelley felt like it was too late for that. Stuck was the one thing he was. In his ways, in his habits, in his head. In this unseen forever war, and with the people fighting it. In the Program. He appreciated it anyway, “Thanks, uncle.”

“I should be gettin’ to bed. Hardly the night owl I used to be.” Uncle Ted chuckled as he got to standing, “Help yourselves to anythin’ in the house. Y’all’re family, you know that.”

“G’night, son.” Uncle Ted smiled and took one last look at Donnelley, then the sliver of sunset before disappearing back into the house. Donnelley stood and took his uncle’s seat, dragging off his cigarette and watching the night crawl in.

>…///

Laine hung up her phone and finished her cigarette, the sound of the back door opening and closing caught her attention. She walked inside and saw Ted and indicated Donnelley was outside. She went through the house and paused at the back door, her hand on the knob. The sadness and despair in Ava’s voice and she knew how callous Donnelley could be at times. But to tell her there was no hope, snuffing out the sliver of meaning to hold onto was more than Laine could put up with. 

She yanked open the door and stepped outside, her green eyes snapping to the man seated in the rocking chair. Anger and hurt surged through her and she reached out, grabbing his shoulder in a tight grip, “We need to talk. Now.” 

Donnelley furrowed his brow when Laine planted her hand in a tight grip on his arm. He looked from her hand to her eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette. He stared at her for a moment, then nodded, “You wanna do this right here, or what?”

It was that look on his face, in his eyes that made her tense, fingers digging into his shoulder. As if he just was waiting for some reason she might storm over to him. Laine took breath, her normal cool demeanor once again tested by the presumptiveness of his question. He expected it every time, that she would tear into him and she had held back, most times. Donnelley tested her patience and temper like no one else and that expression on his face that said he was expecting this made her cheeks flush hot. 

“Not here, I don’t want to bother your uncle,” she said, feeling the tension in her voice nearly tremble. “In the barn.” 

Releasing his shoulder, she walked quickly away from him, the boot heels clicking occasionally against a stone as she left the circle of porch light and entered the darkness of the barn. The sound of the horses sleeping and shuffling made her want to turn away, not to disturb the poor animals but it was too late. Laine turned to face the door, her arms crossed over her chest.

Donnelley slipped between the doors of the barn trailing after Laine. Cigarette smoke trailing behind him as he stood before her. The look on her face reminded him of Holly, in those moments where she told him she’d have to explain to their daughter why her daddy couldn’t show up to her class concerts, or to a birthday party, or to a hundred other things. He felt like he should be begging for Laine’s forgiveness, for Ava’s, but that sharp piece of iron in him wouldn’t let him. Never let him back down, even when he should’ve.

He swallowed, covering it up with a hard drag off his cigarette. He frowned, “She told you what happened.” It wasn’t a question, he already knew what would happen, “What did she say about what happened?”

Laine stared at him, then looked way towards the door behind him and across at an empty stall. “What did she say happened? You should know. Well for one thing she doesn’t want a birthday party that she was really excited to throw because now she feels like there’s not fucking point to celebrating anything since what little sunshine, what sliver of hope she was holding onto was casually yanked away by you. Tossed to the side and you left her in that dark hole of hopelessness.” 

Her arms down to her sides, her pale fingers curling in fists. “You don’t get that right, no matter what shit you’ve seen and what reality you probably know exists for us. You don’t get to fucking take that little dream of normality and throw it aside, then just walk away.” 

The swelling of outrage made her chest tight, it was not just for Ava but herself she realized. Laine had hardly dared breathe the thought about life after UMBRA, for this reason. Hope was fragile and could be deceptive, but people needed it. How Laine had held onto another sunrise like a life preserver through this whole ordeal and yet, as Ava said, what was the point if they could never get past the night. 

“That was fucked up,” she swore, stepping up to Donnelley. 

Laine’s eyes blazed and she suddenly shoved against his chest in a hard swift motion, her voice now raised, “Tell me what in the hell possessed you to do that? You know how it would hit her!” 

Donnelley took a step back as Laine shoved him, looking away from her and down at his boots for the second time that night as his chest ached. From the shoving, and from everything else. He took one last drag and then curled a fist around the cigarette, pocketing it after it had gone out and bringing his hands back to hang at his side. He shook his head, “I’m not a liar.” Donnelley said, quiet, “At least not when the truth is needed. Should I have waited?”

He looked back at Laine, “Should I have waited until it’s years from now and we’re all gray in the hair, and Ava says [i]‘boy, can’t wait for this to finally be over?’[/i]” Donnelley asked, shrugging, “Because, I’ve been at this for almost ten years, and there’s still no grand strategy. There’s no glorious battles, there’s no flankin’ maneuvers, no occupation.”

“Or should I have waited to say it at someone’s funeral? Or write it on my fuckin’ headstone for you to read?” He threw his hands out helplessly. “We’re just rushin’ to plug leaks in a fuckin’ dam.”

“She deserves to know the truth. All of us do. And it [i]hurts.[/i]” Donnelley harshly whispered the last word, “I’m sorry. But, I’m not a liar.”

Laine stared at him, her eyes narrowing as he spoke. “You’re full of shit. Did you ever even try to leave? Because I somehow doubt you ever did. This has been your life, if it wasn’t the Army or the CIA. It was always something you were chasing, did you ever once truly think about settling back down? With what, the broken family you left?” 

A flash of fury ran through Donnelley’s eyes at Laine’s jab. He wanted to lash out, but he could never be that man. Could never be John Donnelley and he could never make Laine into that broken smile his mother tried to keep. He’d ran away from a lot. From his father, leaving his mother behind. From Texas, leaving his Uncle Ted and Aunt Ellie. From everything he used to be. From everywhere he used to go. And he hadn’t changed even a bit. “Don’t ever hit me with that, Laine.” He said simply, no fury, no anger, just a reedy whisper, “Don’t. What do you want from me?”

She had hurt him and Laine knew it would, there was much more she could have said or dug into. But it hurt her as she jabbed him for a reaction. Hot tears threatened and she blinked hard, furious that she might cry when the rage poured out. Laine ran her hands through her short dark hair, taking a deep breath, “You say we can’t ever get out but what about Clyde, he was retired wasn’t he? In a manner of speaking, if his wife hadn’t been...he was technically retired wasn’t he?”

Her voice raised an octave, the normal cool husky tone now gone. “You know damn well none of us would vanish after Alaska, but I refuse to believe that we’re stuck in this until we die. Now you tell me the truth, not your truth. Not fucking Foster’s truth. People do make it out, I have to believe that.” 

He remembered Frank Gamble and Michael Baughman. He remembered what Frank said, how Clyde had been Delta Green until the very end. He looked at Laine, searched her face with eyes that glistened in the light. He swallowed, opening his mouth to say something before closing it again. He looked away from her and shook his head at the ground. He whispered only one thing, no more bravado, nothing could be less Donnelley in the way his voice whispered out just a simple, single phrase.

“I’m not a liar.”

Laine looked him over, the ache in her throat as tears threatened grew. She sniffed, then put her hands on her hips, glancing down at herself. At the silly western wear and she wanted to rip the damn shirt off and throw the boots. It meant nothing. The mask of normality had already slipped from their trip. It was nothing but a bandaid on a hemorrhaging wound. 

She nodded, then said, “Right.” 

Laine looked at him for a long time, the burning anger at their reality once again slamming them in the face and her love for him made her want to run over and hug him, to try and absorb his pain and make it better. But she was tired, a bone deep weariness had settled in, and Laine walked away.

“I’ll see if Ted has some extra blankets for the couch,” she muttered as she moved towards the barn door.