Molly’s desire collapsed from the night air on her muddy skin, leaving her chilled and trembling. “What, Jimmy?”
His hazel eyes were touched with concern, but not love. Not for her.
He raised his shoulders in a simple shrug. “I like someone else.”
Hunter cracked open his eyes in the early morning light as a songbird twittered from somewhere above. His muddled brain cleared and he sat up, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes. His arm wouldn’t bend. He remembered breaking his arm, the pain, Scout tugging the bones into place and extreme pain ending with the dark blanket of oblivion. Hunter thought it weird that he didn’t feel any pain now.
Next to him, Catherine slept under a sleeping bag. If there were ever a standard image of peacefulness, the little girl displayed it perfectly with her hands tucked beneath her head, the sounds of her breathing puffing through her tiny mouth. Scout was the opposite of peacefulness. He knelt by the fire, holding a burning stick into the flames, his bleary-eyed stare focused on nothing apparent. His normal tight Afro looked like a lumpy sponge.
Finally, Scout blinked. “How’s the arm?”
“It feels fine. You do good work.”
Scout grunted. “I tightened up your handle bars. Your bike started okay. You should be good to go. Throttle’s a little tight.”
“The throttle’s been jacked up for a while. It’s constantly sticking on me. But that doesn’t matter since I can’t ride, remember?” Hunter held up his splintered right arm as evidence.
Scout responded with a tired frown. He tossed his poking stick in the fire and stood. “I got some water if you’re thirsty. There’s also some food.”
“Thanks.” Hunter scurried to his feet and ran for privacy. He managed to pee using his left hand. He returned to camp, replenished his water intake, and eyed Scout who had found a new stick to fidget with the fire.
Hunter wiped his mouth with the back of his good arm. “So what’s up?”
Scout’s gaze traveled towards the sleeping Catherine. “She did something to you last night, didn’t she? I mean when you were hurting. She made the pain go away.”
“Not totally, but she helped a lot. I thought my arm was going to fall off. Then she placed her hand on my head and I was able to deal with it. But that’s impossible, so I don’t know what to think.”
“When I set your arm she passed out with you. At first I thought it was because of your screaming.”
Hunter stiffened. “It hurt like hell when you pulled.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that. There’s more.” Scout stepped away from the fire and Hunter reluctantly followed him the short distance.
Scout lowered his voice and relayed everything that happened while Hunter slept.
Hunter barked out a laugh. “You did have some liquor, stingy.”
“I’m serious. You were both covered in a yellow light and then she took it all inside her and the light shot from her eyes into the sky. She passed out again and hasn’t moved since.”
Hunter considered the girl, lying in the prairie grass. Scout never lied to him. Never.
He swung his splintered arm up for a closer inspection. Scout wrapped it with Hunter’s favorite shirt. Something about the shirt didn’t appear right, but Hunter was more concerned with the arm itself.
“So what do you think?” Hunter asked.
“How does your arm feel?”
Gently, Hunter touched the broken arm. He rubbed it and then poked it. The arm didn’t hurt, causing him to up the notch on his bravery. He flexed the fingers of the broken arm-fanning them out-making a fist. Finally, he shook the whole thing like the arm was gift-wrapped and shoved into a stocking.
“There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Let me take off that splint and have a look.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“You just shook the heck out of it.”
Hunter held his arm out. Scout untied the shirt.
“Scout!”
Scout jerked his hands away. “I’m sorry. Did that hurt?”
“No, it didn’t hurt. You cut up my favorite shirt.”
“I needed to make strips to tie the sticks in place.”
“Yeah, but that was my favorite shirt!”
“I could break your other arm.” Scout untied the rest of the strips and the sticks clattered on the ground. He gave a low whistle.
Hunter had closed his eyes, afraid of seeing where the bone had popped through the skin. “What is it?”
“Open your eyes, you big baby.”
Hunter peeked out his right eye. A drop of dried blood was tangled in a patch of arm hair. Otherwise, his arm was healed with just a tiny white scar where the hole was last night. With wide eyes, he poked at his arm again. He gave it another shake.
“What are you two silly boys doing?”
Hunter and Scout jumped as if someone caught them stealing food from the pantry in Brittany’s kitchen. Catherine stood in their midst with Scout’s sleeping bag caped over her shoulders. The sun shining behind her formed a golden nimbus around the little girl.
“Uh…” Hunter stammered.
“He and I…” Scout began.
Catherine bounced up and down, and pointed at Hunter. “Oh looky, your arm’s all better.” The sleeping bag dropped and she did a little dance, her feet kicking up high and her hands clapping a rapid beat. “Hurray! Now we can go home!” She repeated the word “home” as she danced around, singing. “Home, home, home.”
The boys glanced at each other for support. Scout urged Hunter on with a nod. Hunter frowned.
“Catherine,” he said, striving hard to regain her attention by waving his healed arm. She took that as an invitation and twirled underneath his hand until Hunter grew light-headed.
“Catherine, please…” Scout tried, but that only brought him into the fray. Catherine whirled from Hunter and hooked her arm into Scout’s, working them into a circle, singing, “We did it. We did it!”
“Catherine!” the boys yelled.
The dance stopped. Catherine puckered her bottom lip as her eyes watered with tears. She picked up Scout’s sleeping bag and blew her nose.