Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

I woke before dawn, a bit overwhelmed by the soft bed and thick comforter. I turned my head to the right and Maggs was still asleep, snoring very lightly, the sound amplified by the cone, her snout toward me, which was better than the last time when she'd presented me with her butt. She was not a subtle communicator.

I hadn't bothered to get undressed when I'd re-entered the room last night. Coming back in after being met by Rose and her shotgun, I'd been suddenly overwhelmed with a deep exhaustion and had just crawled into the bed. My clothes were clean, after all.

Maggs' eyes opened and she lifted her head. I tensed, reaching for my gun on the nightstand. I remained still and listened but didn't hear anything untoward. I slid out of the bed and holstered the gun. I'd left my ruck in the kitchen last night, so I took a last look around the room, making sure I wasn't forgetting anything. Like the dog that didn't want to get off the bed.

"Let's go."

Maggs gave a little twitch of her tail which meant she'd heard me. Compliance was another issue.

"We're leaving after breakfast," I told Maggs in my stern voice.

She wagged her tail. Once. But did not otherwise move .

"Maggs, come on." I was pleading. With my dog.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and smiled at her. "Please?"

Maggs sighed then slid off the bed.

"Come on, doofus." I opened the door and we went down the stairs on our side of the line.

There was the sound of plates and utensils clanging in the kitchen, and I paused before we went in because that normality sounded so abnormal to me. But Maggs didn't care. She pushed forward, now eager, and pressed her nose against the kitchen door.

"Good morning," I said as I followed Maggs in, looking for Rose.

Poppy was at the stove frying bacon. No sign of Rose. I realized Maggs had smelled the bacon, and it was the reason she'd bothered to come downstairs with me. Priorities.

Poppy greeted Maggs first. "Morning, beautiful." That was the hint she was talking to Maggs. She rubbed Maggs' head. Then she looked at me. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine." Poppy was staring at me so I added, "I had a great night's sleep." I didn't ask where Rose was. It was probably better if I escaped without running into her.

"And you're going to have a great breakfast," Poppy said with too much enthusiasm for this early in the morning. Evidently the overnight oats Rose had left for her were not going to do it. "How do you like your eggs?"

I had to think on that one for a few seconds. "Over easy?"

"Over easy." She nodded. "Coming right up. I hope you like bacon."

Easy question: Who doesn't like bacon? And my alarm started ticking. This was all too easy. Rose and Poppy inviting me in, Pike giving me a pass on staying in town, even Norman and Junior going off when I chucked them out. I needed to be careful. There were people out there in the world who didn't like me. Some who might hold a grudge or have sworn vengeance on me for dastardly deeds I had done in the past. I did have to admit, though, that serving me a hot breakfast was not a normal revenge. It was supposed to be served cold .

"Over easy," Poppy said a few minutes later as she slid the eggs out of the pan onto a plate and brought them over, and then when the toaster popped, put some toast beside them. She gave me a sharp look. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks for the eggs."

"Bacon in a moment." She went back to the stove. "Maggs is such a good girl."

I eyeballed the big furball. She was supposed to warn me of ambushes.

Poppy used tongs to extract the bacon out of the frying pan and laid them on a paper towel on a plate. She carefully turned the burner off and brought the plate over, placed it in the center of the table, and sat down across from me, which made me very nervous. Me, who'd sat across from warlords and gunrunners and mercenaries negotiating matters of life and death. She glanced at my packed rucksack. Her school pack was next to it.

"You need to stay at least another day," Poppy said. "Maggs' paw needs to heal." And with that, she held up a piece of bacon. "Can Maggs have this?"

This girl was devious. "Sure."

Maggs eyeballed the bacon and glanced at me. I nodded. "Go ahead."

At this rate, Maggs wouldn't leave with me. And this was wrong, all wrong. I knew it deep in my gut. Not Poppy, but Rocky Start. Why had my old boss diverted me here? Both the postmaster and Pike had made a point of saying through-hikers picked up supplies in Bearton. Herc could read a map as well as me. He never did anything by chance.

"I'll take it slow," I said. "But I really do want to make it to the end of the Trail."

"The A.T. will still be there tomorrow," Poppy said serenely as if she were some sort of Buddhist monk. I'd traded shots with a Buddhist monk one time in Thailand and . . . well, that had nothing to do with the current situation. To clarify, that was shots of scotch, not bullets. At least initially. Because it had turned out he wasn't really a monk; good cover—shaved head and robes and all—he'd gone the extra mile for his mission, but, again, that had nothing to do with the current situation. Poppy really had me off my game.

"I've got a ways to go." I waited for her to ask what I planned on doing after I reached Springer Mountain in Georgia, remembering what Pike had asked.

But she simply nodded. "All right." Her voice was pitched in an overly neutral tone. Even I could pick up on that. It was amazing what a teenager could convey with tone.

After a few minutes, I forked up the last of the eggs. My chewing sounded extraordinarily loud.

A car horn beeped out back.

"That's Darius, my ride to school." Poppy got up and grabbed her backpack. She paused at the back door. "You really should stay, Max. Not just so Maggs can heal. My mom needs your help." She hesitated, and then she said, "Please stay."

I shook my head, but before I could say anything, she was gone without saying goodbye. I stood up and glanced out the big bay window. Poppy got in an old, dark green two-door soft-top jeep driven by a young Black man who appeared to be about her age. After she got in, she leaned across and gave him a kiss. I heard him clash gears as he tried to get it in first even though he'd probably been driving it for a couple of years. Seemed Poppy had an effect on people as well as dogs, or at least kissing Poppy did.

Probably something she'd inherited from her mother. Who didn't need me. Rose was the kind of woman who was in charge of any situation she ran into.

She'd be fine.

I turned back to the kitchen.

Maggs was staring at me.

"You want bacon?" I asked her. She didn't blink. "This is a trap."

Sometimes I wished Maggs could talk. And give me advice.

I gave her the last piece then carried the plate to the sink. Washed it. Cocked my head to see if Rose was stirring upstairs. Nothing.

Put the plate in the drying rack. Then got the hot water going and did the frying pan. Then the utensils. Maggs watched me the entire time until the kitchen was clean.

Upstairs was still silent.

I shrugged on my rucksack, which seemed abnormally heavy today. Listened one more time to the quiet upstairs.

"Come on," I said to Maggs.

I closed the door behind me.