Payback at Morning Peak (37 page)

Turquoise.

The brief shower left the trees and native grasses glistening. The last vestige of sunlight struck a brilliant rainbow that seemed to settle in the open meadow next to Jubal’s former home. The charred remains still endured as a stark reminder of the long, disastrous events.

Jubal went into the root cellar and found his mother’s papers. He came upon the envelope his sister had left for him. She had written it in the spring and given it to their mother to keep for Jubal’s birthday in August.

He was now eighteen, and had difficulty getting there. The crumpled paper still held a faint hint of rose oil.

A coyote walks its winding path,
I hear a raven’s caw.
This land.
I feel the mountain breeze, I touch the rocky earth.
Oh, land I truly love.
An elk trumpets its mournful call. As eagles circle prey.
This land is wildly loved.
A boy walks these man-sized hills. This girl child
watches in envy.
A brother is warmly loved.
The vibrant earth sprouts vivid green. The snow
melts to water.
This girl becomes a woman.
Oh, sun, slow your rapid arc.
These mortal souls would extend their days.
Oh, life I dearly love.

My sincere gratitude always to literary agent Noah Luke-man for his persistence and invaluable insight (some of which I actually used).

At Simon & Schuster, I give special thanks to my editor, Anthony Ziccardi. Andrea DeWerd, thank you for pulling everything together. Kevin Smith, your positive feedback was most appreciated. Thank you, also, to Louise Burke, Alex Su, Esther Paradelo, Liangela Cabrera, Dave Cole, Lisa Litwack, Jean Anne Rose, and Renee Huff. Damn, it really does take more than a village.