Текст книги "Mama Rides Shotgun"

Автор книги: Deborah Sharp

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

My heart was in my stomach, and my stomach was in my throat. I felt like I’d come down with the flu, and then got hit by a train. I’d thought I was over Carlos before he showed up on the Cracker Trail; but it turned out he could still put a lot of hurtin’ on me.

I wandered over to the bright lights of the dinner site, thinking maybe there would be a soda or some hot tea to help settle my stomach. The first person I saw there was Trey. He’d stuck a nearly empty beer bottle in the back pocket of his jeans. Now, he was helping himself to the coffee Johnny had put out before dinner.

Watching him, I felt a blush creeping up my face. I wished I hadn’t seen what I saw between him and Wynonna at the RV. But as long as I had, I wanted to know: What the heck was up with that?

Trey swayed a little as he reached for the sugar. I could smell the booze on him. Drowning his guilt, no doubt.

“Hey, Trey.’’ I came up next to him. “How you doin’?’’

His eyes were bloodshot. His clothes were rumpled. He needed a shave. Trey looked like thirty miles of bad road.

“Mace,’’ he said, barely moving his lips.

“Looks like you can use that coffee.’’

He nodded, and winced from the motion.

“I’m sorry to see you drinking again.’’

“Me, too.’’

“You want to have a seat and talk about it?’’

“Not really.’’

“Well, I do. And this isn’t the kind of conversation you’re going to want overheard.’’

I led him to an out-of-the-way, dimly lit spot. He carefully placed his coffee cup on the grass. Reaching around, he extracted the beer bottle from his back pocket and dropped it on the ground. We sat, propping our backs against a big rock.

When we were settled, I said, “Austin and I happened to be on our way a little earlier tonight to see Wynonna. We saw her, Trey. With you.’’

I had to admire his control. Even half-drunk, his only reaction was a twitch in his jaw.

“So? We’re burying Daddy next week. Wynonna and I have a lot of details to discuss.’’

“You weren’t discussing much. You were on the steps to the RV, and you had your hands all over each other. Then she tugged you inside by your belt and shut the door. Was that when y’all started talking about your daddy’s funeral?’’

He flinched.

“I gotta say, it doesn’t look good, Trey. I have to tell the sheriff what I saw.’’

His mouth got hard. “What business is it of his? Or of yours? My troubles with Wynonna don’t have nuthin’ to do with Doc getting shot.’’

“That could be true. But the two of you carrying on could have an awful lot to do with Lawton’s death. And if it turns out your daddy was murdered, and Doc was shot because he knew it, then that is very much the sheriff’s business.’’

Trey looked at me blearily. “Didn’t your detective friend find out there was nothing in that chili cup that could have killed Daddy?’’

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t murdered.’’ I started to tell him about the note in my Jeep, but, for some reason, I changed my mind. “There are still questions about his death,’’ I said, “especially given everything that’s happened since.’’

Trey dropped his head into his hands. He sat that way, rubbing at his temples, for what seemed like a long time. Finally, he looked up. Every emotion he was feeling showed in his eyes: Grief. Confusion. Guilt. I almost felt sorry for him, until I got a mental memory of his hands exploring Wynonna’s breasts.

“Mace, I swear to you, I swear on my sister’s life, I didn’t kill Daddy. I loved that man. Which is all the more reason why I hated . . . hate . . . Wynonna. She’s been coming on to me for months, and she’s just relentless. Whenever we were alone, she’d be touching me, rubbing on me, throwing herself at me.’’

He took a swallow of his coffee. He didn’t touch the beer.

“But I never did a thing with her while Daddy was alive,’’ he continued. “Tonight was the first time I gave in. I’d been drinking, and I’m weak, Mace. Daddy always said it, and it’s true. I’m weak. I thought it would make me feel better, just to hold someone in my arms. Just to have someone hold me. But that somebody was Wynonna, so it only made me feel worse.’’

He touched a thumb to the corner of his eye. It came away wet.

“When I rolled off her tonight, all I felt was shame.’’

Now, unfortunately, I had another mental image to add to his hands groping her.

“What do you plan to do now, Trey?’’

“She’s the devil, Mace. I’ve gotta stay away from her. I thought maybe you could help me do that. I like you. A lot. I thought there was something between us, but I can see you’re hung up on that Miamuh hotshot.’’

Not any more, I thought.

“It will just kill Belle when she finds out what I did with Wynonna. Can you wait to tell the sheriff until after I’ve told my sister? You know how word travels.’’

I contemplated that. I guess I owed him that much. And, knowing how fragile Belle was, I thought it would be best if she heard bad news from her brother instead of from some gossipy Cracker Trail camper.

“Yeah,’’ I finally answered. “I’ll do that. But you better make it fast, Trey.’’

“I will, I promise. But I sure don’t look forward to it. Belle’s gonna be so disappointed in me. And she’ll hate Wynonna, of course, even more than she does now. Wynonna was too smart to ever let Belle catch her chasing me. If she had, Belle surely would have told Daddy.’’

He sipped his coffee, probably cold by now.

“That’s how close the two of them were. Much closer than Daddy and me. And I didn’t mind, because I love my sister. She worshipped our daddy, and Belle was his favorite. It didn’t matter that she was adopted.’’

My surprise must have registered on my face because Trey stopped to look at me.

“Yeah, not too many people know that,’’ he said. “She was just an itty bitty baby when they brought her home. I was only three, a little past being a baby myself. All I remember is my parents walking in the door with this tiny, living doll. They’d wrapped her in a pink blanket, with bunnies.’’

“Did Belle grow up knowing?’’

“Not until she was ten years old. I didn’t know either, really. Daddy sat us both down on her tenth birthday. He gave us a speech, about how he and Mama loved Belle so much that they chose to have her join our family. He didn’t say much about where she came from or how they got her.’’

“Weren’t you curious?’’

“Belle was, but I wasn’t. As far as I was concerned, she was my sister. She’d been part of the family, part of me, for as long as I could remember. She was just Belle.’’ He stopped talking, his eyes grew distant.

“What?’’

“I was just thinking about her as a little girl. After she found out she was adopted, she had a lot of questions about where she came from. But you learned with Daddy, there were certain things he didn’t talk about. When Belle was younger, she tried prying out the details. As she got older, she finally accepted it and quit asking.’’

We were quiet for a few moments. A generator hummed at the cook site. A bobcat screeched in the distant woods. I thought of my feelings for my sisters, and of Mama’s overwhelming—sometimes overbearing—love for all of us.

“Did Belle feel loved?’’ I asked.

“Hell, yes,’’ Trey said. “Daddy always said he couldn’t have loved her more if she was his flesh and blood. They paid all kinds of money for her to go to fancy boarding schools. Like I told you, she was his favorite. Belle could do no wrong.’’

I heard a trace of jealousy in Trey’s voice. He’d probably deny it up and down. But it’s funny how those patterns set in childhood run through the rest of your life. I wondered if Belle saw their childhood the same way he did.

I watched him in the light spilling over from the cook site. He was lost in thought. Or maybe he was still a little drunk. I guess I’m a sucker for anything wounded or hurting. I’d worried about Lawton’s poor dog, Tuck. And now I felt sorry for Trey. Drunk. Hating himself for Wynonna. Failing to live up to Lawton’s name.

I laid my hand between his shoulders, and gave his back a reassuring rub. I figured he could use a friend. I saw him as he was. And I wanted nothing to do with that, beyond offering simple human comfort. I swear that was the only thought in my mind.

But just before I could say, “Don’t worry, Trey, everything will turn out,’’ he turned and kissed me full on the lips. First I was surprised. Then I was turned off by the sour-beer smell of his breath. I’d just started to pull away when I heard a shriek of rage.

Austin was on us before we could react. She grabbed the bottle Trey had dropped, and smashed it against the rock where we leaned. Shards of glass spattered the ground like tiny hailstones.

“You bastard,’’ she hissed at Trey, her mouth twisted with rage. “I hate you!’’

Then she turned the jagged neck on me. Her first pass came so close to my cheek I smelled the warm beer on the broken bottle.

And, suddenly, I knew how Trey had gotten the nasty gash we saw on his face that first night at the Bramble ranch house.

I leapt to my feet. Austin moved with me, thrusting the broken bottle in my face.

“Back off, Austin!’’ Trey stumbled over the big rock as he tried to grab his ex-girlfriend’s arm.

This was just what I didn’t need: a jealous woman with a jagged bottle and anger issues, and a rescuer who was too soused to save me. I raised a shout of my own.

“Hey, a little help over here!’’ I called out to whoever might be close. “Trouble over here!’’

A jumble of voices and movement arose from the dinner site. Austin looked over her shoulder, and then quickly back at me. She lowered the bottle a fraction of an inch.

“Put it down. You don’t want to hurt me.’’ I heard the tremble in my voice. I’m not vain, but I’ve gotten kind of used to the way my face looks without scars.

“There’ll be witnesses.’’ Trey spat the words at his ex. “Everyone will know you’re out of control.’’

Anger sparked again in her eyes.

“I’m not out of control,’’ she hissed, jabbing the broken glass toward me. I reared back my head, and felt a whoosh of air as the bottle just missed slicing my nose.

“Stop it, Austin.’’ A woman spoke behind me in a calm, steady voice. “Why don’t you give me that bottle?’’

“Go away, Belle. This doesn’t concern you.’’ Austin’s eyes never left mine.

“Well, it concerns me,’’ came a familiar voice, accustomed to authority. “That’s my sister you’re messing with.’’

Maddie.

“Oh, honey, nothing’s worth getting yourself into this kind of trouble over. Give us the bottle.’’

Marty.

“Yeah, give it up,’’ said a voice I didn’t recognize.

I saw Austin’s eyes flicker behind me, to where Belle and my sisters stood, along with an apparently growing crowd. People rustled closer, moving toward us through the grass. A new voice joined the chorus.

“I know criminals, Austin, and you’re no criminal. Besides, I don’t think a pretty girl like you really wants to go to jail.’’ Carlos chuckled softly, and he switched to Spanish. “Dámela, niña. Give it to me.’’

At that, Austin lowered the bottle to her side. She shrugged at me a little, like she was embarrassed, whispering, “I’m sorry, Mace. I don’t know what gets into me. I really didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted to scare you.’’

Mission accomplished, I thought, my heart still pounding.

“Besides,’’ she leaned in close, “Trey’s the asshole, not you. I should have gone after him.’’

“Again?’’ I asked.

Austin didn’t answer, just gave me a hard-to-read smile.

“Okay, okay,’’ she said, raising her voice to the advancing crowd. “Show’s over. Nobody’s hurt.’’ She carefully laid the jagged bottle into Carlos’ outstretched palm. “I’ll just be on my way.’’

“Not so fast,’’ Carlos said, no chuckle in his voice now. “You know, just threatening Mace with that bottle is assault. All she has to say is she was in fear of bodily harm, and we can get one of the local deputies over here to arrest you.’’

Now Austin was the one who looked scared.

“Please, Mace.’’ She put a hand on my arm. “My grandmother’s sick. I’m the one who’s been taking care of her. It’ll just kill her if I get into that kind of trouble.’’

I wanted to say she should have thought of that before she started swinging a broken beer bottle. But then I looked at Austin’s face. She seemed stricken, sorry. I remembered how nutty Mama had acted when Husband No. 2 cheated on her—following his car, calling up her rival, smashing a piece of butterscotch pie into his face at Gladys’ Diner. Jealous women do crazy things.

“Well, Mace?’’ Carlos said. “Do you want to press charges?’’

The whole crowd was hushed, expectant, awaiting my answer.

“No.’’ I heard Austin exhale. “No harm done. Let’s just move on.’’

She put her mouth close to my ear. “Thanks, Mace. I won’t forget it; I owe you one.’’

___

Belle had initially seemed so calm when I was in danger, but now she was a mess. With her arms wrapped around her knees, she was sitting on the big boulder, crying and rocking to and fro. Carlos crouched next to her, patting her shoulder and murmuring words no doubt meant to be reassuring.

My sisters and I stood a distance away, conferring. “You’re the one he should be comforting, Mace,’’ Maddie sniffed. “Can’t you act a little more upset?’’

Marty chewed on her lip, nodding in agreement.

“You two know me better than that,’’ I said. “What am I going to do? Throw up my hands and start sobbing? Besides, it’s all over now. Austin’s long gone. I’d look ridiculous.’’

“Belle doesn’t look ridiculous. She looks sweet and fragile,’’ Maddie said.

“And needy,’’ Marty chimed in.

We were the only ones left in the clearing. The crowd had dispersed. Once Austin knew she was off the hook, she’d high-tailed it out of camp. Trey took off after her, and that was the last we’d seen of him. As far as I was concerned, those two deserved one another. Some couples feed on drama. They were probably off somewhere, having hot, make-up sex.

At the thought of sex, I focused again on Carlos and Belle. An image ran through my mind of the times he and I had made love. Soft caresses. Soulful kisses. Hot, but very sweet. And then, in my fantasy, Belle’s body took the place of mine. Her hips moved under him; her mouth pressed against his. I felt a pain in my gut like a horse kick. In that instant, I knew I wasn’t giving up. I wanted Carlos back, and I was ready to fight for him.

I strode toward them over the pasture, hard stobs folding like paper under my boots. My sisters rushed to keep up. When I arrived beside the big rock, I plopped myself down as if I belonged there. My sisters followed my lead.

“Well, that was close with Austin, huh?’’ I said. “I’m really glad all of you arrived in the nick of time.’’

“You probably could have taken her, Mace. You’re about twice Austin’s size,’’ Carlos said.

This was going to be harder than I thought.

“No, no . . . I was really scared.’’ I added a shudder for good measure. “Belle, you seemed very brave when you ordered her to hand over that bottle.’’

“Very brave,’’ Marty echoed.

Maddie slapped her on the back. “We were proud of you, Belle.’’

I thought we might be pouring it on too thick, until Belle raised hopeful eyes.

“Were you?’’ she asked. “I was trying to help Mace.’’

“And I appreciate it,’’ I said. “So, why are you so upset now? I’m fine. Everybody’s fine.’’

Belle wiped at her teary cheeks. “After it was over, I just started thinking about all the terrible things that have happened, and I got so sad. Daddy dying, Doc getting shot, my brother caught up with that awful woman.’’

For a moment I wondered if she meant Wynonna.

“Austin is so bad for Trey; and he really needs somebody good right now.’’ Belle looked at Carlos. “We both do.’’

I wasn’t about to let her go there.

“I can think of a few other bad things that have happened,’’ I said. “Marty almost got bitten by a rattlesnake. I nearly got flattened by a truck hauling oranges. And the horse you trained went nuts and almost killed Mama.’’

Belle waited a beat. “I feel so awful about Shotgun, Mace. How’s your mama’s ankle? Any better? I know Doc told her to stay off it.’’

When she mentioned Doc’s name, Belle started sniffling again.

“See?’’ She gulped back a sob. “I can’t stop thinking about poor Doc. Do you think he’s going to make it?’’

Carlos said, “They’re doing everything they can.’’

To me, it sounded reflexive, like it was something he’d said to friends and families of a hundred crime victims in Miami. But the words seemed to cheer Belle. Marty placed a gentle hand on her arm, and then went in for the kill.

“You know, Belle, we heard something strange from Wynonna. She told us you knew Shotgun was terrified of bees. Why didn’t you say anything about that after he ran away with Mama?’’

Belle furrowed her brow in confusion. “Of course I knew he hated bees. All of us did. What’s that got to do with anything?’’

“That’s what set him off,’’ Maddie said. “Bees.’’

A look of surprise raced across Belle’s face. Then, realization.

“No one said a word to me about bees.’’ Her voice rose in anger. “I had no idea that’s why Shotgun took off with your mama.’’

“Oh, sure,’’ I interrupted. “Mama’s told her bee story to everyone in camp, most of them twice, and you hadn’t heard word one about it?’’ My tone was sharp, just as I intended it to be.

Carlos put up his hands like a referee. “Wait a minute, Mace. Let Belle finish.’’

“Yes, Mace, why don’t you shut your mouth and listen?’’ Belle displayed a trace of that Bramble family haughtiness. “That way, I could tell you this is the first I’ve heard of your mama and bees. Rosalee didn’t mention it when I stopped by to apologize. And people haven’t really been coming up to me to share the latest gossip. I guess that happens when someone has suffered the loss of a loved one.’’

My sisters glanced at me.

“No one knows what to say,’’ Belle continued, “so they say nothing. Except for some sympathetic words and a lot of staring, everyone on the trail has been staying away from Trey and me. People act like we’re carrying the plague.’’

Marty bit her lip, looking guilty.

Maddie said, “We’re sorry, Belle. We know you’ve had a tough time.’’

Carlos glared at me until I chimed in.

“Maddie’s right,’’ I said. “We’re sorry.’’

Belle clamped her lips shut and smoothed her curls. Our encounter wasn’t proceeding like I wanted it to.

“Everybody’s been under a lot of stress,’’ Carlos said. “Fortunately, Rosalee’s doing fine, Belle. She’s bruised, and her ankle’s hurt. But why don’t we talk about something else?’’

“Good idea,’’ Maddie said. “What do y’all think of Sheriff Roberts?’’

I saw that little vein in Carlos’ temple start to pulse. Maddie couldn’t have raised a worse topic if she’d studied on it. His lips looked glued shut.

“Carlos and the sheriff don’t see eye-to-eye on investigations,’’ I answered for him.

“I’m out of my jurisdiction,’’ Carlos raised his palms in a shrug. “It’s different up here, that’s for sure.’’

Belle said, “But it’s different in good ways, too, isn’t it?’’

“Amen, Belle,’’ Marty said.

“Like our family land,’’ Belle continued, her eyes all dreamy and distant-looking. “There’s such beauty and peace there. It’s like nowhere else in the world, at least not for me.’’

She reached out a hand to Carlos, laying it just above his knee.

“I just know you’ll love it as much as I do. I want to take you there sometime, show you the creeks and the birds and the trees. The trees will knock you out. You’ll see a million shades of green.’’ She looked into his eyes. “I want you to see what I see there; feel what I feel.’’

Carlos placed his hand over hers. “I’d like that, Belle,’’ he said softly. “I’d like it very much.’’

The two of them seemed lost in each other’s eyes.

Marty shook her head at me, and worked on chewing a hole through her lower lip. Maddie mimicked holding a tiny fishing rod in her hands, casting out the line and reeling in the fish.

Frank Sinatra’s voice floated toward us on the evening air. “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” A moment later, Sal tapped the horn on his Caddy a couple of times, spooking whatever horses weren’t already nervous about all the whip-cracking in camp.

“Yoo-hoo, girls!’’ Mama waved from her backseat throne. “Please tell me dinner is on.’’

“Just about, Mama,’’ Marty answered. “Johnny’s crew is setting out the steaks now.’’

“Thank goodness! I could eat a cow, hooves and all.’’

I guess the bag of Wynonna’s cookies Mama had polished off earlier had worn off.

Once we all had our dinner plates and Mama was settled comfortably by the fire, Sal went off to find his New York buddy. My sisters filled her in on my near-mauling by Austin.

Mama speared a piece of steak and a stray green bean on her fork and pointed it at me: “I knew that girl was trouble!’’

She’d conveniently forgotten she invited Austin into my life by chatting her up on the trail and welcoming her—and her bottle of wine—into Camp Cadillac.

“Mace says that Austin and Trey deserve one another.’’ Marty delicately bit a green bean in half. “I think she’s right.’’

“As far as I’m concerned, that whole Bramble family is a nightmare,’’ Maddie said. “If I had them as students, I’d put the whole lot in permanent detention.’’

I figured it was a good time to tell them about the scene Austin and I had witnessed at Wynonna’s RV. I looked for eavesdroppers. Most people were hunkered over their plates. Dinner was just an hour late, but you’d think we were lost for weeks in the woods without food.

“Speaking of the Brambles,’’ I began in a whisper, and Mama and my sisters crowded closer to listen.

“Did you stay long enough to see if the RV started rockin’?’’ Maddie asked when I’d finished.

Mama slapped her wrist. “That’s just crude!’’

Marty said, “It may be crude, but Maddie raises a good point. There’s clearly something between Trey and his daddy’s widow. They could have conspired together to get rid of Lawton.’’

“I don’t buy it,’’ Mama said firmly. “That boy is purely grieving over his daddy. As for Wynonna, I’ve gone back and forth on the way I see her. But I’ll tell you one thing: Her mourning strikes me as more for show than for real.’’

All of us were quiet for a bit, thinking. I played back in my mind the way Wynonna had been after she found Lawton’s body. I saw her climbing that log again, and crying as a sympathetic crowd surged forward. I heard her screams after Doc was shot, and saw the shock on her face again and her hands smeared with his blood.

I remembered how hurt and disappointed she’d seemed when I confronted her about rubbing Trey’s chest at the ranch house. Talk about acting!

“I don’t know, y’all,’’ I finally said. “Maybe she’s a sex addict.’’

I must have said those last two words louder than I meant to, because the conversations around us suddenly stopped. I looked out the corner of my eyes, and actually saw people holding their forks in mid-air, quiet as barn mice, to see what I’d say next.

“Who’s a sex addict, Mace?’’ Sal boomed, as he returned to the campfire.

I cringed. It got so quiet around us I could hear Maddie chewing her steak.

I raised my voice, “We were just talking about something I saw on TV, Sal.’’

“Cable, huh?’’ He stole a buttered roll off Mama’s plate.

“Sal, honey, would you mind an awful lot finding me a jacket?’’ Mama asked. “I’m getting a bit chilled out here.’’

Mama watched him go then whispered, “Big pitcher and big ears.’’

I took up where we left off before she banished Sal. “I wish we knew who left me that note about Lawton being murdered. That might tell us something.’’

“And I wish we knew who came along afterwards and stole it from your Jeep,’’ Maddie added. “That’d tell us something, too.’’

My thoughts went back to Carlos, and our search for the note. When I thought of how closely he’d trailed my footsteps through the pasture, I could almost smell his familiar scent. Had that only happened this afternoon? So much had changed in the hours since then.

As if my head were attached to strings, pulled by a force beyond my control, I turned to the spot where I’d glimpsed Belle earlier. Sure enough, she wasn’t alone. Carlos the Protector was by her side. Even in the firelight, I could see she looked pale and shaken. Fragile. Carlos, his muscled arms and broad chest stretching the fabric of his denim shirt, would have to be strong enough for the two of them. He’d love that.

“Mace, we’re talking to you!’’ Maddie’s sharp voice interrupted my mental pity party.

When she noticed where I was staring, she said, “Uh-oh.’’ Mama’s and Marty’s eyes followed hers.

Carlos leaned close to Belle, his head cocked to catch her soft voice. Her hair glowed like autumn leaves in the firelight, a tumble of golden red curls. I ran a hand through my own greasy snarls, and clamped the cowboy hat in my lap back onto my head.

“I’ll tell you what you have to do, Mace . . .’’

As Maddie started in, I snapped at her.

“I don’t remember asking you what I have to do, Dr. Laura. If I wanted your advice, I’d call into your radio show to get it. Oh, wait a minute. You don’t have a radio show. You’re not Dr. Laura. You just think you are.’’

Maddie looked wounded. I didn’t feel as good as I thought I’d feel for biting her head off. Before I could say I was sorry, Mama started lecturing.

“Mace, your big sister only wants what’s best for you. You ought to listen to Maddie. She has a husband. And he loves her like the cat loves the cream jar, even after all these years.’’

“Which is a mystery to me to rival the pyramids,’’ I said sourly.

“Mace!’’

“Oh, let her pick, Mama.’’ Maddie waved the roll in her hand at me. “Mace has to take it out on someone. I’m a school principal. I think I’m tough enough to take my sister’s sniping.’’

Marty had been quiet throughout our exchange. She was watching Carlos and Belle.

“I don’t think he’s as taken with her as he’s making out to be, Mace,’’ she said.

I cursed my heart’s hopeful little flutter. “Why do you say that?’’

“Because he’s looked over here at you at least three times since he sat down next to her.’’

I fought the urge to swing my head toward Carlos. “He has not.’’

“Hush, Mace,’’ Mama said. “You know Marty’s good at reading people. She’s quiet and shy and before you know it, she knows everything she needs to know about anybody. She’s like me that way.’’

Mama? Quiet and shy? Maybe in a parallel universe. But I didn’t correct her. I needed hanging-on-to-a-man advice, and I needed it quick.

“What should I do?’’

“Where should we start?’’ Mama said.

“Not helping, Mama,’’ Marty said. “Now, listen, Mace. I know you don’t like to play games, but you need to do just a little of that right now. If you can make Carlos just a little bit jealous, make him realize he doesn’t want anyone else to have you, it might knock some sense back into his head.’’

“I tried to see if he’d get jealous over Trey. That didn’t go so well.’’

“Let’s find somebody else,’’ Maddie said. “Somebody without a drinking problem and a crazy ex-girlfriend and a questionable relationship with his dead father’s widow.’’

“I’ve got it,’’ Mama slapped her hand against her thigh, jostling a pile of fried potatoes on the plate in her lap. “It’s perfect girls: He’s strong, silent, and unattached.’’

All of our eyes followed her gaze across the fire. The trail boss was sitting off by himself, staring at the stars. He looked happy. He was probably dreaming of a day coming soon when he’d be out on the range with the cattle again, with just his horse and a cur dog for company.

“I don’t know, Mama . . .’’

“Nonsense, Mace. You don’t have to fall in love with the man,’’ she said. “You just have to flirt with him a little bit. It’s a piece of cake, honey.’’

Easy for her to say.

The Committee to Fix Mace’s Love Life voted to send Maddie along with me on my mission. Given the choice between looking at me or Marty, any man would choose Marty. And Mama, with her gimpy ankle, would have slowed me down or distracted Jack. We only had so much time.

“You can do this, Mace,’’ Maddie pep-talked into my ear as we rounded the fire. “It’s easier than wrestling gators, and you’re good at that. At least Jack Hollister doesn’t have seventy-five razor sharp teeth and a tail that could break a man’s leg.’’

“Hey, Jack,’’ I said as we got closer.

So far so good.

He lowered his eyes from the night sky and frowned at me.

Uh-oh.

“I was just wondering if you’d heard anything about Doc,’’ I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing yet.’’ He returned his gaze skyward.

Maddie gave me a little push and an opening. “We saw you looking at the stars, Jack. My sister Mace loves astronomy. When she was a kid, she had a poster with all the constellations on the ceiling over her bed.’’

“Really?’’

“No.’’ I glared at Maddie. “But I do love looking at the sky.’’

I sat down next to him. “Look, there’s Canis Major.’’ I pointed overhead.

“The bigger of Orion’s hunting dogs,’’ he said, smiling at me. He looked up again and outlined Canis Minor. “And there’s the little dog.’’

Maddie stood out of Jack’s view, tapping her finger to her eye and pulling out the lid. I couldn’t believe she wanted me to try that old chestnut. I mouthed No way at her. She fisted her left hand and pointed to her wedding ring. She’d been with Kenny since high school.

“Ouch,’’ I said, feeling like a simple fool. “I think I’ve got something in my eye.’’

“Let me take a look,’’ Jack said, putting a calloused finger to my cheek. “Probably some dust and grit from near the dairy. That was a mess out there, wasn’t it? I thought it would never stop blowing.’’

Those were the most words I’d heard him speak when he wasn’t standing on a log, addressing the assembled riders.

“Sure was a mess,’’ I agreed.

He lifted my hat off my head and turned my face toward the light of the campfire. Then he peered deep, searching for the non-existent speck in my eye.

“Listen, Jack, I wanted to tell you how well you’ve handled everything that’s happened on this ride. I don’t think many trail bosses would be up to dealing with all that.’’

“Well, thanks, Mace.’’ He pulled his face back a bit from mine and smiled. “That means a lot to hear you say that. I’m sorry about that scare with your sister and the rattlesnake, and then your poor mama and Shotgun. Is everybody okay?’’

I nodded.

“Hold still, now. I think I see something.’’ He barely brushed my bottom eyelid with the tip of his finger, a surprisingly gentle touch. “Got it.’’ He held up a black, buggy speck. “Looks like a gnat.’’