“Can’t be. Why would they wait? They’d have done it a month ago.”
“Yes, but suppose everybody thought it was.”
He stepped all the way into the room.
“I don’t follow,” he said, although he did.
“Suppose you made Sloop disappear,” she said. “The exact same way somebody made Al disappear. They’d think it was all connected somehow. They wouldn’t suspect you. You’d be totally in the clear.”
He shook his head. “We’ve been through this. I’m not an assassin.”
She went quiet. Looked down at the sheets in her lap and began picking at a seam. The sheets were frayed and old. Cast-offs from the big house, Reacher thought. Maybe Rusty and her dead husband had slept under those same sheets. Maybe Bobby had. Maybe Sloop had. Maybe Sloop and Carmen, together.
“You should just get out, right now,” he said again.
“I can’t.”
“You should stay somewhere inside of Texas, just temporarily. Fight it, legally. You’d get custody, in the circumstances.”
“I don’t have any money. It could cost a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Carmen, you have to do something.”
She nodded.
“I know what I’m going to do,” she said. “I’m going to take a beating, Monday night. Then Tuesday morning, I’m going to come find you, wherever you are. Then you’ll see, and maybe you’ll change your mind.”
He said nothing. She angled her face up into the fading light from the high windows. Her hair tumbled back on her shoulders.
“Take a good look,” she said. “Come close.”
He stepped nearer.
“I’ll be all bruised,” she said. “Maybe my nose will be broken. Maybe my lips will be split. Maybe I’ll have teeth missing.”
He said nothing.
“Touch my skin,” she said. “Feel it.”
He put the back of his forefinger on her cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth, like warm silk. He traced the wide arch of her cheekbone.
“Remember this,” she said. “Compare it to what you feel Tuesday morning. Maybe it’ll change your mind.”
He took his finger away. Maybe it would change his mind. That was what she was counting on, and that was what he was afraid of. The difference between cold blood and hot blood. It was a big difference. For him, a crucial difference.
“Hold me,” she said. “I can’t remember how it feels to be held.” He sat down next to her and took her in his arms. She slid hers around his waist and buried her head in his chest. “I’m scared,” she said.
‘They sat like that for twenty minutes. Maybe thirty. Reacher lost all track of time. She was warm and fragrant, breathing steadily. Then she pulled away and stood up, with a bleak expression on her face.
“I have to go find Ellie,” she said. “It’s her bedtime.”
“She’s in the barn. She showed me how to put all that crap on the horse.”
She nodded. “She’s a good kid.”
“That’s for sure,” he said. “Saved my bacon.”
She handed the sheets to him.
“You want to come riding tomorrow?” she asked.
“I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“Could be a long process.”
“It can’t be. We have to get up on the mesa.”
“Why?” She looked away.
“Something you have to teach me,” she said. “In case Tuesday doesnt change your mind. I need to know how to work my gun properly.
He said nothing.
“You can’t deny me the right to defend myself,” she said. He said nothing. She went quietly down the stairs, leaving him sitting on the bed holding the folded sheets on his knees, exactly like he had found her.
He made Up his bed. The old sheets were thin and worn, which he figured was O.K., in the circumstances. The temperature was still somewhere in the high nineties. Middle of the night, it might cool off to eighty-five. He wasn’t going to be looking for a lot of warmth.
He went back down the stairs and stepped outside. Looking east, there was a black horizon. He stepped around the bunkhouse corner and faced the sunset in the west. It flamed against the red buildings. He stood still and watched it happen. This far south, the sun would drop away pretty quickly. Like a giant red ball. It flared briefly against the rim of the mesa and then disappeared and the sky lit up red above it.