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“Why not?”
“Because I will not drag you to your death. Zoey means everything to me, and I will find her insulin in time, but not at the cost of your lives. Because you three have made me care about your stupid lives, and it pisses me off.”
I take a step closer, but she doesn’t budge. “Why does it piss you off?”
“Because caring about other people never gets me anywhere but into trouble. So I’m going to need you to get better and be able to take care of yourself again.”
“Then let’s get at it.” I thrust the now empty pot into her hands and walk past her and out the door.
Max and William are carrying one of the dead men by the arms and legs over to the hole and toss him in on top of the other two before looking at me when I storm up to them. I grab the shovel off the ground and head toward the damn flower Emily wants so badly.
“Hey, I’m not done with that,” Max says.
“Find another,” I call out over my shoulder.
Stabbing the shovel into the dirt, I dig up Emily’s precious flower. My anger—no, annoyance—no…whatever I’m feeling, diminishes when I see her running up to me with the pot in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Her long, dark brown hair flies around her face in the light breeze, the damn thing untameable, her eyes shining through between the strands that fly across her face.
By the time she reaches me, I have the flower ready to transplant. I lean on the end of the shovel with the tip in the dirt and wait for her to stop huffing and puffing.
“How did you move so fast?” she asks between pants.
“Have to move fast to avoid rotters,” I respond, my voice void of emotion. Leaving the shovel sticking out of the ground, I kneel and help her, shoving my hands into the dirt and surrounding the flowers in the pot with more dirt, and a few more flowers that I grab just because I think they look pretty. I haven’t seen flowers this shade of amber before. There’s something comforting about it. They’ll look nice among the lavender roses.
Emily adds water to the pot, dispersing around the dirt. The way she handles it is with such care that it surprises me. It’s not something I would have expected from someone like her.
Max storms up and grabs the shovel with a huff. “You interrupted me burying bodies so you can dig up flowers? Unbelievable.” He storms off without waiting for a response, but Emily looks at me and laughs.
“Where do you want to keep it for now?” I ask, more calm now and I don’t know if it’s because of her laugh or something else. The argument we had not too long ago seems so unimportant now.
She looks around, lingering on the general store where we’ve temporarily set up camp. “Outside to get some sunlight. That way, it’s right there to take care of, too.”
“Good idea.”
She gets ready to stand up and goes to lift the pot, but it wobbles in her arms. “We might have added too much dirt.”
“Let me help.” I reach out and take the pot from her and stand up with ease. “Show me where you want it.”
She gives me a small smile and then leads the way, and I follow behind her, noticing the way she sways her hips.
My hand glides across the wood. Fallen trees, branches, moss-covered stumps, trying to find the perfect kind for the task at hand. A smile graces my lips when I find a large branch of basswood. “This will be perfect.”
William swings the axe down and chops away at the chunk I want. After a few swings, he pauses, drops the axe, and takes a swig from the water bottle. “What is it you’re going to make?”
“You’ll see.” I pick up the fallen axe and wait for William to have another go, but he holds up his hand.
“Think it’s time for a bathroom break. I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t piss on any good wood,” I call after him. He waves a hand over his shoulder, either telling me he understands, or to fuck off.
The sound of leaves crunching under careful footsteps has me pausing and I look behind me to see Emily standing there, watching. I raise an eyebrow. “Enjoying the show?”
Her eyes dart to my side and her lips part to say something. I assume it’s likely a comment about my stitches, but then she glances back up at me. “We have enough firewood for a few days. There’s no reason to expend your energy doing extra work.”
Standing up straight, I let the axe fall to my side and walk up to her. She has to crane her neck to look up at me. “You followed me out here to criticize how I decide to spend my time?”
“Well, no.”
I raise an eyebrow. Not used to this version of her. I can’t figure out what she’s wanting. “Then what is it?”
