I licked the screen again anyway.

CHAPTER 19

Zee

   I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so Gentry took me to his parents’ house, where his family treated me like an invalid. I wasn’t doing a good job of pretending to be okay, because they acted like I was made out of glass. Charlene did my laundry, while I took a shower to get the dirt from Mom’s house off me. Then Elana braided my hair while Gentry packed. There was packing required to go to Bryn Carreg, which was Gentry’s keep. His house actually had a name, and that was where we were going. If it had been up to me, I would have gone to bed and stayed there, but I was a guest. So I sat on the front porch with my backpack, while Gentry worked.

It made me nervous watching him load things into his truck. There were Rubbermaid tubs, some kind of tent, and an ice chest. It felt very end-times.

“It’s only an hour away,” Bill said. “If you decide you’d rather come back to town, Gentry can bring you.”

“I think you understand that now, don’t you?” Charlene said. “He’ll do whatever he can for you.” It sounded like a warning, and I could see how with someone as good as Gentry, she’d be worried about him.

They stood out on the porch, waving as we drove away, which made me feel like crying. Sometimes nice people are too nice. It reminded me of this whole fantasy I had when I was younger. Dad would come home from prison and Mom would get better, and we’d be a normal family, like Emma’s family. Right up until Uncle Tim died, the three of them went on vacations together and bowled together. At Aunt Shelly’s house, she had a whole wall of pictures of them together, like Gentry’s family had. The hours I wasted on that fantasy as a kid. Imagining exactly what we’d talk about at dinner. What kind of sheets I would have on my bed when Mom tucked me in at night. How I would have sleepovers with the girls at school. The ones who wouldn’t even sit with me at lunch.

Things had gone so sideways, I didn’t even have a fantasy life anymore.

I wasn’t going to cry. Especially because we drove in total silence. It weirded me out a little, so I worked up my nerve to ask if I could turn on the radio. Gentry said yes, but there weren’t any stations programmed. I hit the SEEK button and it spun through until we got a station playing eighties music.

Bill had said Bryn Carreg was an hour away, but by my phone, it was closer to an hour and a half. We passed through a tiny town called Cedar Vale and, somewhere on the other side, we left the highway and drove north on a county road. Further on, we turned off onto a dirt road and then another, and at that point, the only reason I knew which direction we were going was that the sun was starting to set in the west. When we finally pulled up and parked, it was where the road dead-ended in a bunch of woods and hills. There was a metal garage and a carport, with a little Toyota truck parked under it.

Maybe some other time I would have been nervous about the whole thing, but I was too tired to care. It reminded me of that first day when Gentry gave me a ride home from physical therapy. Sure, maybe he was driving me out into the country to murder me, but his family was so nice, and getting murdered would solve a lot of my problems.

I got out of the truck and pulled my backpack on, while he went around to drop the tailgate and open the topper glass. I watched him pull out all the stuff he’d packed, wondering how much of it I’d have to carry and how far. I hadn’t had any pain meds for my hip all day, so I decided I was going to take a big dose when we got wherever we were going. Enough to knock out a bear.

There was the big bundle that I’d guessed was a tent—a bunch of white canvas wrapped around some long poles—and two baskets full of everything else, including the ice chest. Gentry pulled the tent out until it was balanced half on the tailgate and half off.

“How much further are we going?” I said.

“’Tis not far, but up the hill.”

He squatted, got the tent balanced on his right shoulder, and lifted it up. Then he squatted again and looped one basket on the end of the poles. He turned and a third squat got the second basket on the poles.

“Do you need me to carry something?” I said.

“Nay.”

“I’m strong enough to help.”

“My lady, I doubt not thy virtue, but thou art weary, and ’tis my custom to bear it thus,” he said.

“I don’t know what that has to do with my virtue.”

He frowned. I was going to at least offer to close the tailgate and topper but he did a slow rotation so he could reach them with his left hand.

“Thy virtue. Thy strength.”

“Is that what virtue means? I thought it meant something else,” I said, but he didn’t explain.

All that stuff must have weighed a lot. Enough that his right arm where he was using it to stabilize the weight on his shoulder was flexed tight.

“I didn’t know you were taking me to the gun show.” As soon as I said it, I could tell he didn’t understand. He turned and tilted his head in that cute, doggy look of confusion.

“My lady?” He was standing there holding all that stuff, waiting for me to explain.

“Gun show, like your arms are your guns. It’s just a saying. I only meant because your arms are so big. Whatever.”

For a few seconds he looked even more confused, and then he smiled and turned back around.

“’Tis nigh dark. Thou must admire my arms and walk in the same while,” he said.

I hoped it was a joke, because I laughed. Walking behind him at dusk, it wasn’t like I could see his arms, but going up the hill it was hard not to notice that he had calf muscles like softballs.

As we came up the path, I could see a bonfire and some sort of a Hobbit house with a grass roof. I hadn’t known what to expect, but I wasn’t sure why we needed a tent, if there was a house. When we got to the fire, two people stood up to greet us. A man and a woman, who was wearing a nightgown.

“Sir Gentry!” the man said. “Ever true to your word. We had begun to worry that you were delayed.”

Then they saw me.

“You brought a guest!” the woman said.

Even with all that stuff balanced on his shoulder, Gentry bowed and said, “I present to you Lady Zhorzha. My lady, these folk been Sir Edrard, long my friend and brother-in-arms, and his wife, Dame Rosalinda.”

“Lady Zhorzha! Welcome!” they said.

When Sir Edrard came around the fire, I put out my hand, meaning to shake, but he took it and bowed over it, the same way Gentry did. Dame Rosalinda curtseyed to me, and since I didn’t know how that worked, I waved.

“I shall make ready the pavilion,” Gentry said.