Back The Great Alone: A Novel
Chapters (43)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1974
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. 1978
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. 1986
  34. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  35. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  36. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  37. Chapter Thirty
  38. Chapter Thirty-One
  39. Acknowledgments
  40. Also by Kristin Hannah
  41. About the Author
  42. Newsletter Sign-up
  43. Copyright

Leni couldn’t help herself; she sidled out of the truck and followed them. Maybe there was still a way to get Mama away from him. They didn’t need long, just enough time to disappear. Hell, they’d steal a boat if they had to. Maybe this was the distraction they needed.

“Walker!” Dad shouted.

Mr. Walker shut the backhoe down and pushed the trucker’s cap back from his sweaty forehead. “Ernt Allbright,” he said. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“What in the hell are you doing?”

“Digging a trench.”

“Why?”

“Electricity for town. I’m putting in a generator.”

“What?”

Mr. Walker said it again, pronouncing e-lec-tri-city with care, as if speaking to someone who barely understood English.

“What if we don’t want electricity in Kaneq?”

“I bought easements from every business in town, Ernt. Paid cash money,” Mr. Walker said. “From people who want lights and refrigerators and heat in the winter. Oh, and streetlamps. Won’t that be great?”

“I won’t let you.”

“What are you going to do? Spray-paint again? I wouldn’t recommend it. I won’t be so forgiving a second time.”

Leni came up behind Mama, grabbed her sleeve, tried to pull her away while Dad was fixated on something else.

“Leni!”

Matthew’s voice rang out. He was standing in front of the saloon, holding a big cardboard box.

“Help us,” she screamed.

Dad grabbed Leni by the bicep and pulled her against him. “You think you need help? What for?”

She shook her head, croaked, “Nothing. I didn’t mean it.” She glanced at Matthew, who had put down the box and was coming toward them, stepping down from the boardwalk.

“You’d better tell that boy to stop walking, or so help me God…” Dad put a hand on the knife at his waist.

“I’m fine,” she yelled to Matthew, but she could see that he didn’t believe her. He saw that she was crying. “S-stay there. Tell your dad we’re okay.”

Matthew said her name. She saw it form on his lips, but couldn’t hear it.

Dad tightened his grip on Leni’s upper arm until it felt like pliers clamping down. He guided Leni and Mama back to the truck, shoved them inside, slammed the door shut behind them.

It took less than two minutes: all of it. The arrival in town, the scene, the shouted plea to help us, and the return to the truck.

All the way home, Dad muttered under his breath. The only words she got were liar and Walker.

Mama held Leni’s hand as they bounced over the rutted road and turned onto their land. Leni tried to think of a way to calm her dad down. What had made her cry out like that? She knew better than to ask for help.

Love and fear.

The most destructive forces on earth. Fear had turned her inside out, love had made her stupid.