House of Mercy (24 page)

Jacob was unhitching the chains that attached the small backhoe to the trailer he towed. Beth strode to him, refusing to show her limp.

“I need your help,” she said to him. Emory leaned the wood braces against the tailgate, studying Levi. Beth saw the tendons over his jaw flex under the man’s skin.

“Anything you ask,” Jacob said.

“There’s a spot over there”—Beth pointed away from Levi and toward the tallest maple, which was in full leaf and had low branches grazing the ground—“next to my great-grandfather.”

“Romanov,” Jacob said. “Wish I’d been named Romanov.”

Beth raised her eyebrows, curious, but it was not the time to ask. “After Levi is done doing things his way, we’re going to dig a new hole,” she said. “A proper Borzoi hole.”

“That works for me,” Jacob said. One of the chains clattered into a pile at his foot.

Emory hefted a shovel in each fist and let one of the blades bang into Levi’s pristine fender. He smiled at Beth and said, “And then we’ll bury your brother in the grave he prefers.”

Beth didn’t respond to that.

“I don’t know if my mom will go for this,” she confided to Jacob as Emory stalked over to Levi.

“Still worth the effort,” he said.

“It’s extra work for you—I appreciate it,” she said.

He unhooked the last chain and then lowered the back end of the trailer so he could drive the backhoe off of it. She stayed close to him.

“After all you’ve done for us, I hate to ask for anything else,” she said in a low voice.

“Ask,” he said without hesitating.

“I’m going to head out of here for a couple days,” she said. “After Dad’s funeral. I need to find my grandfather.”

Jacob took off his gloves and squeezed them together in one hand. He stopped working to listen to the rest of what she had to say.

“Mom and Levi won’t like that I’m gone. Especially if they find out why. And especially Levi.”

His frown told her he wasn’t too thrilled about it either, but he kept quiet.

“I can’t let this deal with Sam Johnson go down.”

“Sam does what Sam wants,” Jacob said. “But do you want me to talk to him for you?”

“What would you say? No. Besides, it’s not Sam I’m worried about. It’s Danny.”

“You’re not planning to go see Sam by yourself ?”

“No, I told you, I’m going to find Garner. Please watch after Danny. I’m worried he won’t even watch out for himself. He’s just giving up.”

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“A lot can happen in a short time.”

“Non-answer.”

“As long as it takes to find Garner and put Levi in his place.”

“Where’re you going to look?” he asked.

“Best you don’t know.”

“For a smart woman, you sure can be dense,” he said. “I wish you’d reconsider.”

“You know I can’t.”

Jacob sighed, then climbed into the backhoe and turned the ignition. He directed the machine off the flatbed, and Beth suddenly worried that if all this went south, that if nothing in her life ever went right again, she might never have another opportunity to set things right with him.

She stepped forward and reached up into the cab, laid a hand on his arm. She had to yell to be heard over all the noise. “Jacob, I took your show saddle.”

“I know,” he yelled back.

How?
she wanted to ask.
Why didn’t you say anything?
“I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back for it.”

“No need. You’ve already paid a high enough price for that mistake.”

“That’s not the point.”

Jacob cut the engine and looked at her. “Then what is the point, Beth? That you punish yourself for the rest of your life for a mistake you can’t reverse? What will that accomplish?”

“I don’t know. Nothing. Something. I’m trying to make it right.”

“Some things you can’t make right,” Jacob said. “I should know.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? Just sail through life without a care?”

Jacob laughed at her then. He
laughed
at her, and she felt a strange mixture of disbelief and relief and anger at his reaction.

“You could never do that. But it’s not for you to say what you owe me for that saddle.”

“Then what do I owe you?”

He shook his head and pulled the brim of his hat down lower over his eyes—a gesture to prevent her from seeing his unfathomable amusement, she thought. He said, “I’ll tell you when you come back.”

21

S
aturday morning, Levi drove the family from the public memorial service to the private burial in a flashy Cadillac he’d somehow justified renting. His mother had the front passenger seat and Beth sat in back, between Danny and Lorena, and no one spoke. Beth thought only of her father traveling alone in the hearse ahead.

Rose wore a black sheath dress that Beth recognized as one Abel had bought her for their twenty-fifth anniversary celebration. The deep tones of her skin seemed pale against the unyielding color.

The Cadillac wasn’t made for the Blazing B’s well-traveled but uneven roads. They bobbed alongside the fence that contained Abel’s massive horse, Temuche, a broad-shouldered sorrel named for a Ute Indian chief. Pastor Eric had turned him out to graze, saying that no one should ride the horse until the horse had time to mourn and then show interest in a new rider. The horse wandered nervously across the pastureland, aimless without a saddle on his back.

The wide stretch of land was home and yet no longer home, overcome by the aura of her father’s absence. Temuche seemed to share Beth’s awareness of the shift in the land, though the sky had returned to its cheerful blue self. She imagined Levi’s resort crowding the earth, a terrible tumor, and felt sick. The horse’s grazing was restless, and he startled at the sound of the approaching rental car. The problem of having no work to do was new to the animal, and Beth felt compassion for it.

A flock of finches rode the wind up into the cottonwoods. Herriot still had not returned. Beth had begun accepting the likely reason for it after Emory reported that the two sets of paw prints had vanished into the creek, near the spot where the antelope had fallen.

Heartache upon heartache and change upon change.

Beth worried over how her mother would react when she saw the hole Levi had dug. There had been no opportunity to tell her about Levi’s violation or Beth’s remedy. His presence in the front seat robbed her of courage to explain it now.

Jacob, wearing new jeans and a blazer, met them at the cemetery and leaned into the hearse’s window to tell the driver where to park. Levi pulled in where he wanted, ignoring Jacob. Beth caught Jacob’s eye as the car passed him. He nodded at her.

Rose saw the hole before Levi shifted the gear into park. Beth felt her mother’s attention snap to the offense like a magnet. She opened the door and got out without waiting for Levi’s help. Beth scrambled out over Lorena.

“Stay with Danny,” she ordered the girl.

Rose crossed to the site, waving off Dr. Roy when he approached. Beth chased after her mom. The ache in her foot was a persistent throb today, though it continued to heal. She reached for her mother’s fingers, which seemed wilted by disbelief at her son’s insult.

“We couldn’t stop him,” Beth said, hoping to prevent a meltdown. Behind them, Emory and Pastor Eric engaged Danny and Lorena in a distracting conversation. “But no one helped him. Levi did this alone.”

Rose closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“I asked Emory and Jacob to dig another hole.” Beth pointed. “And Wally helped. I know it’s not in the right place, but it’s a good place. Next to Grandpa Romanov. And there’s room beside him.” She couldn’t form the words
for you, later
. Incredibly, the four men of the Hub had stood watch in shifts through the night and managed to keep Levi from filling it in.

Her mother was shaking her head. She opened her eyes and briefly glanced in the direction of the distant second pit, which was hidden from view by trees. Then her eyes returned to the hole at her feet, and to the tiny headstone behind it that had been fashioned for her dead daughter.

“Levi can’t take anything from you that you don’t give him, Mom.”

“God takes what he wants,” Rose murmured. “It has nothing to do with what we’re willing to give.”

“Levi’s not God,” Beth said firmly. “We have choices. You have choices. Still. Dad made it clear what he wanted—”

“Not this. Not this family falling apart, turned against each other.”

“No one’s turned but Levi.”

“And you, Beth.” Her mother’s gaze on her was sharp, but she kept her tone out of reach of the men who lingered by the cars, waiting to see what she would do. “What did you think would happen, stealing another man’s horse? No Borzoi has ever done such a thing. You turned before Levi ever did. What he does, you forced him to do.”

The sting of her words killed all others that rose to Beth’s lips. She felt choked by her mother’s accusation, so bitter that it didn’t matter whether it was true.

“Now you do
this
. Your brother digs a grave but you insist on another. You divide us when we’re most vulnerable.”

The sun felt so hot on Beth’s head.

“Bury him here,” Rose said to Levi, pointing to the traditional hole he’d dug. “Our little girl needs her daddy.”

Daddy
.

Beth stood at the side of her father’s grave, breathless and trembling as the men carried her father’s casket and set it near her feet. Pastor Eric spoke with well-intentioned and loving words that brought her no comfort and would not take root in her memory. So Beth spoke a silent memorial of her own to honor her father. And to drown out her mother’s opinion of her.

I’ll remember the strength of your arms when I’m weak, carrying me
.

Danny let her lean on him. Their mother stood opposite, head bowed, eyes closed, lost in her own memories. Levi stood at a distance, his face turned toward the pasture, with them but separate.

I’ll remember the scent of your sweat when I work, the calluses on your hands when I ache
.

A gentle breeze stirred the trees above and the shrubs below.

I’ll remember your love for God, and for all the wounded people of the world
.

Eric finished, and no one said anything. Danny pulled the upright shovel out of the ground and slid it into the loose dirt.

I’ll remember the sound of your laugh when I can’t breathe. I’ll remember the sound of your silence when I need wisdom
.

The coffin sounded hollow when the earth that poured off the shovel’s blade struck it.

Danny thrust the scoop back into the pile, more forceful this time, taking a heavier load. Beth watched him, feeling his heartache like a physical pain.

I’ll remember your love for my mother. I’ll look for you in my brothers
.

Levi shoved his hat down onto his brow and left them.

I’ll believe that you told me the truth: that goodness is stronger than evil, that weakness is greater than strength, that humility is a measure of greatness. I’ll remember your God
.

There was a second shovel lying in the patchy wild grass where Levi had left it the day before. Beth retrieved it and began to help Danny. Her little brother’s face was wet with tears, but his jaw was strong and his arms moved with the precision of a metronome. She could not keep up with him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

It seemed she’d only been working a few minutes when Jacob took her shovel, and Roy took Danny’s. But her brow was sweaty and her black cotton blouse was stuck to her back. She stepped into the shade of the nearest tree. The Davises worked shoulder to shoulder and undid the work that Levi had done, this time with her father’s body under the rubble. Beth clung to the Bible’s promise that his spirit had gone on to heaven.

Eventually Pastor Eric and Emory drifted away to the other hole and began to fill it in without needing to be asked. Wally was already there, filling the pit one scoop at a time. Beth had seen him arrive discreetly during Eric’s eulogy. Then Jacob and Roy finished, and silently left Rose and Beth standing alone with the fresh mound between them.

“I don’t see how we can repair this fracture,” her mother said.

Beth waited for her to explain. Dreaded the explanation.

“You are either in favor of your brother’s plan, or you’re against it.”

“How can I support—”

“You support it by admitting that what this family needs right now, more than anything, is to function as a unit.”

“Levi is taking advantage of—”

“Don’t you
see
, Beth? Don’t you see? What is happening right now isn’t about what’s right or wrong. There is no right or wrong, there’s only what’s necessary. We need each other. We have to stick together. When a family falls apart . . .”

Beth’s gaze lifted and went to the distant spot where she’d found Garner’s marker.

“Give me a chance to fix this in my own way,” Beth pleaded. “That’s exactly what Levi’s tried to do. He hasn’t handled this any differently.”