“Arbuckle, what’re you up to in here?”

He turned his head toward her and smiled at her appearance in the doorway of the small kitchen. “Learned how to cook while I was away,” he said.

“Did you now?” Lady Mae pulled a chair from the table and sat down, rested her elbows on the wood, and leaned her chin into her hands.

“Had to. Ain’t no way I was going to eat mush for six years. Learned how to hunt, too. Didn’t like that part much, though.”

“Ain’t had no choice I reckon,” said Lady Mae.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he checked the fire again even though the logs were blazing, and the heat rose in the room. Lady Mae’s hairline was soaked already and the neck of her blouse, too. It was sweltering in her shack, but she did not mind; it meant she was not alone. “How’s your head?” she asked.

“Fine. Just sore a little.”

“Best you change those bandages, though.”

“Aye.”

“Here. Let me help.”

She stood from her chair and motioned for Arbuckle to sit down. He did, and Lady Mae took a towel and dipped it in the water that he had already boiled for the day. First she examined the stitches. Then, with careful hands, she pulled the bandages off his face, revealing weeping, raw skin. She lifted the towel to his face and gently dabbed at the wounds. The fire snapped, and Arbuckle closed his eyes.

Lady Mae took a good look at him. How was it that he was really there in her kitchen, her hands upon his face? He was the same Arbuckle that he’d always been, so why did her stomach flutter when her fingers touched his skin? She looked at his lips, his beard, and wondered what it’d be like to press her flesh against his.

“Can I ask you something?” Lady Mae asked.

“Anything at all,” he said, his eyes still closed.

“The night my mama died. You saw them Deputies coming, right?”

“I did.”

“Did you see any you hadn’t seen before?”

A silence followed, interrupted only by the snaps of the fire. Lady Mae put new bandages onto his wounds, and Arbuckle opened his eyes.

“Don’t reckon so, no.”

“But you did see them?”

“Not directly. I remember it was dark,” he said. “What’re you getting at, Lady Mae?”

She wished with her heart that beat faster and faster that she could tell him it was and did you see his face. But then what? They might sit knees to knees as they used to, trying desperately to come up with a way to help themselves.

Can’t do nothing, Mama.

You can do more than you know, my girl.

“There’s a new Deputy. Spoke to him yesterday at the depot before I got you.”

“Thought you seemed rattled. Now why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Don’t know. Just trying to think on it, I guess.”

“What’d you talk about?”

“The patient—the one I was worried about. But then he mentioned—”