Water Rites (38 page)

“I can’t wait, and it’s a long walk to town. You sure, babe?”

“I’ve got my water bottle. I’ll walk back when it gets cooler.”

Renny pulled the car into the crumbling circular drive. People might have come here just to look down on the riverbed — no, the river — in the old days. Nita looked at the dry rocky gash, remembering shimmering water and the soft tints of green life that Jeremy had showed her. Yes, it would have been worth coming up here just to look.

“See you next trip,” Renny said. “Take care of yourself.”

Regretful? “I will.” Nita leaned down for Rachel. “You take care of yourself, too. Can you let Lydia help?”

“We tried that once. Hell, who knows.” She gave Nita a crooked grin. “We might give it another shot sometime.” She pulled the door closed.

The engine roared and the car leaped forward, down to The Dalles where Renny would pick up her rig and head eastward: toward Boise, the next plaza, and the next deal. Always looking at the road ahead, never back. Holding carefully to Rachel, Nita climbed the tangled ruin of old fence and walked out onto the promontory. No pool lay here today, just dust and stones and a view of the riverbed. For a moment, Nita regretted her decision to com here. Veins of rock marched across the far side of the Gorge, streaked brown and gray, carrying her eye farther and farther east, to where the walls of the Gorge and the rocky bed of the river blurred into opalescent haze. Nita spread Rachel’s quilt in the strip of shade cast by a crumbling stone wall and sat with her back against the relative cool of the stone.

“This is our world.” Nita propped her daughter against her raised knees as the sun crawled slowly across the dry dome of the sky. “There’s beauty in it, if you look for it. We’d better look for it, because that’s all we’re going to get.”

Rachel cooed and drooled, reaching for Nita’s hair.

The sun was dipping toward the horizon and she was drowsing in the heat when the sound of a car cut through the quiet. Nita looked over her shoulder as the engine throbbed and died. A Corps pickup had parked by the ruined fence. She knew who it was before he had even opened the door — she would probably have recognized him in the middle of Portland.

Carter stepped gingerly across the rusty wire and walked toward her, a little hesitant. “I went looking for you . . . to offer you a ride to see Jeremy. Renny said you went today, that she left you here.”

“He’s getting some feeling back in his legs, Carter.”

“Really?” His relief flooded the air. “That’s great. They weren’t offering a lot of hope.” He sat down beside her on the quilt, close enough that their bodies touched, arm against arm, leg against leg. “I . . . need to tell you.” He kept his eyes on the riverbed. “Johnny offered to pay for stem cell treatments for Jeremy. If I’d lose that proof. Nita . . . I couldn’t do it. It . . . would have hurt too many people to let him off.”

She touched his arm, awed by the echo of what that choice had cost him.

“I’m sorry. That I haven’t come by.” He kept his gaze on the riverbed, frowning, shy inside, unsure. “I ended up in the infirmary for a couple of days.” He grimaced. “I . . . vanished the evidence that the hacker gave me. I don’t know who actually did the shooting around here, or killed Candy Wilmer. Probably the people who were working for Delgado. If Durer catches them, they might implicate Johnny, but so far they seem to have disappeared.” Carter drew a slow breath. “I’m going to let it go at that. Dan’s pissed at me for not giving Johnny to the media, and he has reason to be, but he’s going along with it. I . . . owed a debt to Johnny.”

“I know.” She leaned against him. “Johnny paid for Jeremy’s treatment. That’s why he’s getting better.”

“What?”

“He told Jeremy it was a gift from him. And that you’re even. You are, Carter. You repaid that debt a long time ago and he knew it.”

“Do you
know
that?” His voice quivered, just a hair.

“I know that.” She looked down at her daughter and stroked a wisp of dark hair back from her face, hurting with his hurt.

“I’m going to stay on here,” he said slowly. “With the Corps or without it. People need to stand in the middle around here. They need to stick their necks out — like Dan.” He looked at her at last. “I . . . didn’t come looking for you right away,” he said. “It wasn’t just that the doctor stuck me in the infirmary. It was . . . because I had to know how I felt about you . . . about what you are.”

Nita waited, her heart pounding suddenly, wanting to cover her ears or get up and run.

“I’m always going to feel a little guilty for letting Johnny off, and you’re going to know that. And a lot of other things. And sometimes it’s going to drive me nuts. And sometimes . . . it’s going to be wonderful.” He drew a slow breath, his eyes as dark as the rocks beneath the dust. “I’m not afraid of what you are, Nita. Was that what happened with David? Was he afraid?”

“Yes.” And he
wasn’t
afraid. Nita took his face between her palms and kissed him, and he put his arms around her, pulling her against him. The kiss went on a long time.

Rachel’s delighted crowing finally broke them apart. “Child, you are going to get educated young,” Nita said breathlessly.

“It’s going to be tough around here.” Carter put his arm around her. “A lot of people have already gotten foreclosure notices from the Federal Credit Bureau. It’s going to take some time to untangle those illegal permits and get the new fields off-line. Even pulling some water from the Great Lakes, we still may have to make some cuts to keep Mexico’s share secure.”

“No good answers, huh?” Nita looked into his eyes. “Maybe all we can do is choose the best of bad choices. Sending Johnny to jail wouldn’t have saved those people in the riverbed.”

“I guess not. Dan said the same thing. He’s not too pissed.” Carter shrugged, but an edge of bitterness in him had eased. “I guess we’ll do the best we can.” He pulled her lightly against him and kissed her again.

Nita closed her eyes, breathing his scent, tasting him, remembering, anticipating.

Rachel fussed.

“She’s hungry.” Nita sighed. “See what happens when you get involved with nursing women?”

“I see,” Carter said soberly, and then he laughed.

It was a happy sound: she couldn’t remember ever hearing him laugh like that. He stretched out on the quilt in lengthening afternoon shadows and Nita pillowed her head on his shoulder, careful of his injured ribs. Tucked between them, Rachel nursed contentedly.