Page 68 of All We Carry Home

I stood and reached for her to do the same, dropping a few bills on the table. She wordlessly followed, her stare locked on the man trying to run her out of her home.

I loved that she didn’t cower, didn’t duck her head even for a moment.

We went to the truck and leaned Eddie against the door, and Eva sat in the middle next to me. We both watched the mirrors until we were well out of town.

Eddie woke as we hit the open highway. “What happened?”

I ground my teeth to keep from cursing him.

Eva sighed. “Just another day in paradise.”

Seventeen

Eva

“Put him in the chair there,” I said to Warren as he hefted Eddie through the door and into the kitchen.

Warren’s mood was dark and brooding. Victor’s appearance at the diner was just another reminder of what we were fighting.

I put a cool washcloth on Eddie’s swollen eye and turned to Warren. “Can you check on Peter and Annie and keep them away for at least a few more minutes? I’ll get him cleaned up.”

Warren nodded and hesitated as if he wanted to say something more, then left the house, his absence a gaping hole in the quiet room.

Eddie hung his head, his face pale. “I’m so, so sorry, Eva.”

We’d told him about the fire on the drive back, after we’d stopped twice for him to throw up. At least that had woken him up a bit more.

“I don’t care about the cabin,” I said, pressing some iodine to the gash along his cheek—a cut from a broken beer bottle? “You can’t be doing this anymore, Eddie. We need you here. Your children need you.”

He turned away. “I didn’t ask for this.”

He wasn’t talking about the iodine, or the work to do on the farm. It was something much deeper, something dark and inescapable.

“No one did,” I whispered. “I see the shadows too. I hear their voices. I see the villages and lives destroyed.”

“Violet doesn’t understand.” He shook his head. “I try to put it all behind me, but she thinks I just don’t care.”

“Don’t lose hope.” I put my hand on his arm. “Life can surprise you.”

He gave me a sad stare. “It can also take everything that’s ever mattered and smash it to bits.”

Didn’t I know. Platitudes weren’t my strength. I quietly stitched up his cheek, put a bandage over the wound, and cleaned his hands and face of stray blood.

“He cares about you, you know,” Eddie said, his words still slurred.

“Who?” I put my supplies back into my bag.

“The captain.”

My cheeks flushed, but I kept tidying up the bloodied gauze and towels. Eddie was drunk, didn’t know what he was saying.

“I think he’s making a mistake, going to Washington.” He continued to mumble.

Washington? Did he mean the fundraiser in a few weeks in Seattle?

“You need a good night’s rest, Eddie.” I took his arm and led him out of the house and toward the barn so he could get some sleep. The evening air was cooler, and the smell of singed wood still lingered.

“Maybe if you talk to him, he’ll stay,” Eddie droned as he shuffled his feet beside me. “He cares for you, you know.”