Spencerville

The next item on that agenda, of course, would be to see if they wanted to get back together. He thought she did, he thought he did.

Cliff Baxter obviously was an impediment to that, but it might be better for all concerned if Keith simply went around him rather than take him on. This was what he'd advise a young intelligence man on assignment in a dangerous environment.

The creek widened, and the trees thinned out, and within a few minutes Keith came to the big pond. No one was swimming or fishing, and it looked deserted. He used to come here a lot in the summer with his friends, to sail toy boats, to fish and swim, and in the winter people would build bonfires on the shore and skate or go ice fishing.

He reined the horse to the left and began riding along the muddy shoreline.

If this were actually a mission in a foreign country, he thought, it would be relatively easy to run off with the enemy's prize possession. But this was not exactly the same as escaping a foreign country with a codebook or a defector. No, there was another dimension to this problem.

Annie. This was not an intelligence operation, it was old-fashioned wife-stealing, not much different from what tribes and clans did in the past. But in this society, you first made sure the wife wanted to go with you.

It occurred to him that neither he nor Annie, separate or apart, could have Cliff Baxter on their trail for the rest of their lives.

Another option, of course, was to pack up, get in his car, and get as far away from here as he could. But he kept thinking of Annie standing there on the sidewalk, tears in her eyes, and all those letters over the years and the ache he still felt in his heart. "Can't leave, can't stay..." And he couldn't even declare a truce, because Cliff Baxter would just take that as a sign of weakness and step up the pressure.

Keith came around the far end of the lake and started back along the opposite shore.

Maybe, he thought, Cliff Baxter could be reasoned with. The three of them should sit down, have a beer, and talk it out in a civilized manner. "That is the answer to the problem. Right." No ugly scenes, no bloodshed, no rescues or abductions. "Mr. Baxter, your wife and I love each other and always have. She doesn't care for you. So be a good fellow and wish us well. The divorce papers are in the mail. Thank you, Cliff. Shake?"

Cliff Baxter, of course, would go for his gun. But if Cliff Baxter had the power of articulate speech, if he were in fact a civilized and clever man, he'd reply, "Mr. Landry, you think you love my wife, but more likely you're obsessed with a long-ago memory that has no reality now. Also, you're a little bored since being forcibly retired, and you're looking for adventure. Add to that the fact that you don't like me because of some childhood conflicts, and taking my wife is your way of getting back at me. This is not healthy, Mr. Landry, nor is it fair to Annie, who is going through a rough time now, what with empty-nest syndrome, the pressures of my job, and the realization that middle age has arrived. Annie and I are happy in our own way, and we look forward to my retirement and growing old together. Right, Annie?"

Keith didn't like what Baxter said at all, because it had a grain of truth in it.

In reality, there would be no such meeting, and Keith Landry, Cliff Baxter, and Annie Prentis Baxter would just stumble and fumble their ways through this, the way most people did, causing maximum damage and hurt along the way. And when it was all finished, there'd be remorse and deep scarring, and no happily-ever-after.

On that note, Keith entered the tree line and found the creek. He headed back to the farm, resolved now to pack his bags and leave home again, as he'd done twenty-five years before, but this time with less expectation of ever coming back.

Chapter Fifteen

Early that evening, Keith sat at the kitchen table, trying to draft a final letter to Annie, but he was having trouble with it. Should he suggest a last meeting before he left? Should he be brief, with no long explanations, or did he owe her a full baring of his mind and soul? No, that would just open the possibility of more misery. No long good-byes, no last meeting. Be noble, be strong, be brave, and be brief.

He wrote, "Dear Annie, We can't undo the past, we can't go back to our Spencerville, or to Bowling Green. We've lived and made separate lives, and, as I wrote to you once, I'm just passing through and intend to do no damage while I'm here. Take care and please understand. Love, Keith."

There. That was it. He put the letter in an envelope and addressed it care of her sister.

He stood and looked around the kitchen. He'd packed a few things, but his heart wasn't in it.

He knew he should mail the letter after he'd left, and he knew he should leave very soon, before something else happened to affect his decision. Every day he stayed here opened the possibility of a confrontation with Baxter, or the possibility of seeing Annie.