The Courage Tree - Diane Chamberlain [88]
Sophie set her bowl down. “I’m going to take a nap on the courage tree flower now,” she said. “When I get up, we can go, all right?”
“You bet,” Zoe said. “Sleep tight.”
Sophie started walking toward the shanty, then suddenly stopped. “I never did go to the outhouse,” she said. “I completely forgot.”
Zoe started to get to her feet. “I’ll take you,” she said.
“No, I can go by myself.” She looked toward the rear of the shanty, where the outhouse was hidden behind some trees. “So long as you’ll be right here.”
“I’ll be here,” Zoe promised.
She sat a while longer on the flat rock, trying to figure out what material she could use to make Sophie a shoe. She had brought three pairs of walking shoes with her and one pair of good hiking boots. Sophie’s feet were a lot smaller than hers, of course, but with the swelling and the bandage, and with a little extra stuffing, perhaps one of the walking shoes would work for her.
Zoe was carrying the bowls over to the pump when she heard the sound of crackling twigs in the forest behind her. Dropping the bowls to the ground, she ran to the shanty and grabbed her rifle where it rested against the step. She raised it to her face, her fear mixing with relief, as the rustling sound grew nearer. It would be best if the intruders were searching for Sophie, she thought. She’d do the mountain mama routine, Sophie’s rescuers would take her away, and she wouldn’t have to make that ten-mile, round-trip trek through the forest. Even better, she wouldn’t have to worry about Marti arriving at the shanty to find her gone.
She stood frozen, the rifle pointed in the direction of the sound, and saw a flicker of yellow cloth darting through the trees. Then suddenly, Marti burst out of the woods and began running toward her.
“Marti!” Zoe lowered the rifle to the ground and moved forward to embrace her daughter. “Oh, honey, you made it!” she cried. “You’re so thin!” Marti was skin and bones beneath Zoe’s hands.
“Oh, God, Mom.” Marti clung to her. “I was in the woods all night! I never expected that. It was horrible. I had no flashlight or anything. You should have left me a flashlight.”
A flashlight! Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
“Well, you’re here now,” Zoe said. “You’re safe.” She had just uttered these words to Sophie, who had spent three nights alone in the forest without a flashlight. “Why didn’t you have the warden drop you off early this morning? Then you could have walked through the woods in daylight.”
“I had to do whatever he said, Mom.” Marti pulled away from her, eyes downcast, and she waved her hands in the air as she spoke. For the first time, Zoe noticed that she was holding a gun.
“Where did you get the gun?” she asked.
“I managed to take it from him. From Angelo, the warden.” Marti sat down on one of the flat rocks. “You tied those blue cloths way too tight, Mom,” she said. “It took me forever to untie them all.”
“I’m sorry,” Zoe said. “I wanted to make sure they didn’t come off the branches.”
“No way they’d ever come off without someone untying them.” Marti rested her head on her hand. She looked truly exhausted, wasting away and pale, as fragile as she’d looked toward the end of the trial.
Zoe noticed the gun again. “What did you mean, you took the gun from the warden?” she asked. “You mean, by force? He got the money, didn’t—”
Leaves rustled on the other side of the shanty, and Marti’s eyes widened in terror. She stood up quickly, lifting the gun with both hands, like a well-trained cop—or a seasoned criminal—aiming it at the corner of the building just as Sophie appeared. Zoe darted forward to grab Marti’s arm.
“Don’t shoot her!” she said.
Sophie stood at the edge of the clearing, her bandaged foot off the ground, her arms once again rising in the air, and a look of frozen terror on her face.
“Who the hell is that?” Marti said, lowering the gun in front of her.
“Put the gun down, Marti,” Zoe commanded. “All the way down.”
Marti set the gun on the ground, and Sophie slowly lowered her hands to her sides.
“Come here, Sophie.” Zoe waved the girl toward them,