by Celia Roman
The door leading onto the deck opened and Riley stepped into the living room, an empty plate in one hand. His handsome face melted into a grin soon as he spotted me. “Hey, baby.”
I tried not to look pleased. The endearment was fairly new, something Riley started doing right about the time Belinda Arrowood clocked his noggin and had Harley Jimpson toss me to a lake monster. Teus took care of my scars when he gifted me the tattoos on my left breast, but Riley weren’t so fortunate as to have a minor deity on his side. He was still recovering from the blow to that auburn head of his, and to his manhood, too, I reckoned. Having a woman take him down with a shovel musta stung, even if she done it behind his back, the sneak.
I never liked Belinda. That tidbit was widely knowed and only served to prick my own wounded pride, so I let it go. Live in the moment. That was my new motto. Or it would be if I had a motto.
“You started without me,” I said.
“Couldn’t wait.”
“You get my message?”
“Yeah. Got a call in to a local forest ranger. I’ll let you know when he calls me back.”
He crossed the room on bare feet, bent down and captured my mouth with his, and tingling heat rushed through me quicker’n spit. I tilted my head up and kissed him back, and was so caught up in the passion sparking between us, I almost missed the catch in his breathing.
That’d sounded more like pain than passion.
I pulled away and dropped back on my heels. “You ok?”
“It’s nothing.”
Yeah, and I was the Queen of England. “Your hip bothering you again?”
“I’m fine, baby.” His gaze slid away from mine and landed somewhere across my right shoulder. “Mama made a coconut cake yesterday. Sent two big slabs home with me after church.”
My stomach growled right on cue. Anne Treadwell’s coconut cake was not to be missed. That was a firm rule during my childhood and it weren’t one I was liable to break now. I also weren’t fool enough to let that hitched in breath go.
“What’d you do this afternoon?” I asked.
Riley backed up a step, then swiveled around and headed toward the kitchen. “Went out on the boat.”
“Water skiing?” His shoulders bunched up ever so slightly under the thin fabric of an old Army t-shirt, and I sighed. “Your hip is bothering you.”
“Only a little. Not enough to keep me from enjoying the company.”
But maybe enough for him to have to take a pain pill. They put him right out more often than not, and that spelled an early evening for both of us. A tiny shaft of disappointment wormed its way through the sheer thrill of just being with him, and I pushed it right back out again. Riley couldn’t help the shrapnel what’d torn his hip up when he was serving Uncle Sam. I had no call resenting his service, nor what it’d done to him neither.
I followed him into the kitchen, scrooched my hand up under the hem of his shirt, and hooked a finger around a belt loop. “We can skip the movie tonight.”
He cast a narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder at me. “Forget it, Sunny. Sunday is for dinner and a movie.”
“I let you have your way, ever night’d be dinner and a movie night,” I retorted, and let go of his pants. “You’re stretching out on the couch after supper and that’s that.”
He set the plate in the sink, then turned all the way around and settled his hands on my hips, an oddly satisfied expression on his face. “We’ll both stretch out, but the movie plays.”
I huffed out a breath right into another kiss. That devil. He been trying to sweet talk me into sex one baby step at a time, and I played right into his hands. I relaxed into the kiss anyhow, enjoying it same as him. Oh, well. Couldn’t pretend I didn’t want more with Riley, seeing as how I wanted him since I figured out what men and women was supposed to do together. That was a long time to wait for one man, but I reckoned he was worth ever second I spent on him and then some.
Chapter Two
I got up early the next morning and hustled through a shower, grinning like an idjit the whole time. Sure enough, Riley took a pain pill after supper and about passed out on me, but we ended up spending a good half hour cuddled up on the couch before then. I left right after the first time he slumped into me, but not before he sneaked a final kiss.
I snickered into the hot spray pouring over my face. Even half doped up, Riley Treadwell’s kisses could scorch paint off a porch swing.
BobbiJean was waiting at the kitchen table when I got outta the shower and dressed. She was gnawing on her thumbnail and a frown creased her pretty forehead. A brown lunch sack sat on the table in front of her.
I pulled out a chair across from her and tugged on a boot. “Morning. Is that a sack full of Jazz’ biscuits?”
“Filled with country ham.” She tucked her hands into her lap and attempted a wobbly smile. “Hope you don’t mind me waiting here for you. When you didn’t answer the door, I figured your date ran over last night.”
I shook my head, sending strands of still-wet hair swishing around my neck. It had run over, but not the way she meant. “You come on in whenever you need to. How’s the wedding plans coming along?”
The worry lifted off her face, replaced by a bright smile. “Oh, they’re all set. You’re still bringing Riley, right?”
“Far as I know.” I tugged the other boot on over Daddy’s hunting knife and adjusted both to each other. “I appreciate you taking time to go shopping with me again.”
“Well, if it gets you into another dress.”
“Funny.”
Last time I wore a dress was my first real date with Riley. He took me to Rhapsody in Rabun, a big charity shindig. BobbiJean and Missy, my uncle Fame’s gal, carried me shopping back then, but that dress was a mite too fancy for a simple country wedding where the guests sat on hay bales and passed home brewed moonshine amongst themselves between vows.
“What’s eating your craw?” I asked.
Her bow mouth pursed into a moue. “Something got into the chickens last night. Ate about half of ‘em up. Jazz is fit to be tied, and the wedding just around the corner, too.”
I checked the ties on my boots, stomped ‘em against the floor good just to make sure they was on tight. “Probably a fox. Want me to check it out?”
She leaned forward and pressed one palm against the table in front of me. “Oh, would you Sunny? It’d be such a load off my mind.”
I patted her hand, about as affectionate as I got with folks outside my family, Riley excepted. “Don’t you worry none a’tall, BobbiJean. That fox is as good as got.”
Before we left, I jotted down a note in the brand new, handy dandy organizer I got with some of the money the Greenwood Five paid me to solve their monster problem. It’d put ‘em in trouble with the law, so I hadn’t expected to get paid, but David made good on his word and choked fair shares outta ever body. The fee was enough to keep me in the black for months, on top of getting the driveway scraped and graveled, and having a mechanic work over Daddy’s IROC.
Fame’d got a kick outta the irony, particularly where Belinda was concerned. Weren’t no love lost there and never had been, but that was on account of him taking me in when Mama killed Daddy the way she done. Calling Fame overprotective of his favorite niece was an understatement if ever there was one.
Notes made, me and BobbiJean headed out for a round of shopping. I practiced my cajoling skills on her, and danged if by the end of the day, her mind weren’t firmly back on her upcoming nuptials, exactly where it shoulda been all along.
It was near dark when I turned into my driveway, parked, and said goodbye to a glowing BobbiJean. Sky was clear all day, that crisp blue only October brings. A chill hung in the air, not near enough to keep a body indoors when something called ‘em out, the way it done me. It’d been three days since I visited Henry’s spot, and that was about two days too long, far as I was concerned.
I dropped my shopping bags on my bed, dug my Ruger 1911 and a hip holster outta the gun safe,
and strapped it on over my jeans. The woods between here and Fame’s trailer looked innocuous, like ever other stretch of forest in the Southern Appalachians. We learnt the hard way they wasn’t when a pooka drug Henry off the trail one day and ripped his little boy’s body to shreds, God rest his bitty soul.
Sorrow and sheer horror warred within me, closing my throat up tight. Sweet, precious Henry never done nobody no harm. Was my carelessness what got my boy killed, and I paid for it ever day since. Cleaning out the woods weren’t gonna bring him back, but it might save another mama from grief someday. Was a time, that was all what kept me going, that and the bloodlust rotting in my veins.
Took a solid year of killing monsters for vengeance to run its course and free me from its cloying grip.
I stepped out into the dusk and sighed. That life was behind me now, good and gone forever, I hoped. Only thing left was the spot where we found Henry’s blood, a memorial now prettied up with flowers and a bench and a little concrete angel I bought when my head was clear enough for my heart’s needs to be heard.
The trail leading to Henry’s spot, and beyond it to Fame’s trailer, was spongy under my feet. Crickets chirped in the woods, interrupted by the occasional frog’s ribbet. Ever thing dropped away as I walked, lingering bitterness over Henry’s loss, the ever present worry over kith and kin, the bits and pieces what made up my work, and the feelings growing in me for Riley, renewed by our recent dating. I settled onto the bench in peace, loose and limber and ready to share the latest goings on.
Night fell around me. I closed my eyes and breathed it in. He was there, was Henry, a light pressure in my heart. I reached out a hand and whispered, “I’m here, baby,” and a breeze caressed my skin.
Henry.
His face sprung into mind from memory, that snaggle toothed grin, ears as big as Dumbo’s, and love shining from his wide eyes. Mama, the wind whispered, and I clenched my hand into a fist, a futile attempt to hold on to him, to feel him near me just one more time.
A solid hand closed around my wrist, warmer than the breeze. My eyes popped open as I fumbled with my free hand for the 1911 at my waist.
Teus knelt in front of me dressed in jeans and a light jacket, his preternaturally handsome features bathed in the scant rays of the moon and the dimming light thrown by the solar lamps scattered around the memorial. “Sunshine.”
I twisted my wrist outta his grasp and rubbed the warmth away. “What’re you doing here?”
“You called me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
One corner of his mouth turned down. He glanced around once, then stood and gazed down at me, still half frowning. “You’re in danger.”
I barked out a hard laugh. “Only dangerous thing around here is me, and maybe you.”
“Still.” He held a hand out to me. “We should seek shelter. The night grows chill.”
If he hadn’t said nothing, I probably woulda never noticed the goose bumps peppering my arms ‘neath the flannel shirt I throwed on before stepping outside. I ignored his hand and stood on my own, the way God meant a woman to. “Come on, then. I’ll fix you some supper, and then you can go right back to your lair under the lake.”
Teus’ hand lashed out and snagged my elbow. “It’s after midnight, Sunshine, long past the hour for repast.”
I blinked at him, so surprised my mind went blank. “What?”
“It’s late,” he repeated slowly, and his frown deepened. “What were you doing sitting in the night air for so long?”
“Talking with my young’un.”
His eyes got that far off look for a long minute, then snapped back into the present and landed on me. “Henry is dead, Sunshine. It’s past time to let him go.”
I jerked at my arm, and nearly hissed when his fingers tightened on my elbow. “You got no call to butt in here, Teus.”
“You are mine, and what’s mine, I protect. Leave the boy’s spirit alone.”
Raw emotion welled up in me, overcoming good sense. I pulled the 1911 out of its holster and aimed it at him across my body. “You let go of me now, Teus. Let go and go away.”
His expression gentled. “Sunshine.”
“I mean it, Teus.”
“I can see that.” He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “We will dance again soon.”
I blinked, and just like that, he was gone, evaporating into the woods like mist. His heat seared into my skin still and my hands shook, wavering the tip of the gun I held. I tried to holster it, missed, tried again, and finally got the dadgum thing back where it belonged.
What’d come over me?
I slumped onto the bench and reached out for Henry, but he was long gone. Even the scant wind blowing through the autumn leaves was bereft of his presence, the way my heart been since the day I found his blood splattered across the trail on this very spot.
Chapter Three
My senses regained their rights a short time after I woke the next morning and dragged myself outta bed into a shower. Teus could be a pest, but he never laid a crosswise hand on me. Sure, he teased about wanting me as his companion, but me and him both knowed he was just lonely for a woman. Any woman’d do, so I told him the day he put them marks on me.
That mighta had something to do with him showing up outta the blue last night. Or might be, something was getting into his chickens, too, and he needed a good hunter to track down the culprit. Another giant catfish catching chickens as they come up for air, maybe.
The notion tickled me pink and knocked the foul mood right outta me. I finished getting dressed, fried up some bacon and eggs, and went through my phone messages whilst eating. Old Aunt Sadie’s pumpkin patch’d been tore up. Likely the same earth gnome I scared off coupla weeks back or maybe something a mite worse. Billy Kildare’s coon dog’d gone missing again, but that weren’t no mystery. Ol’ Blue and a neighbor’s dog, Lady, took a liking to one another some months back. Chances was good, them dogs was making hay together somewhere.
Riley’s mellow voice drifted outta my cellphone, and I smiled. “Hey, baby,” his message said. “Sorry about last night. Call me soon so we can try again.”
I played the message back, just to have his voice in my head. Mm-mm-mm, he was something to wake up to, something fine indeed.
The final message was from Missy reminding me to drop by soon and have dinner with her and Fame and his two boys, Trey and Gentry. They was near my own age and hardly boys, but that’s the way I always thought of ‘em in my head. I had work to do between then and now, so I texted her an affirmative and set off to sort out the rest.
I drove out to Clayton first and hit the library. Scanning the weekly newspaper become a habit right about the time me and Riley got back in touch again. Teus gifted me a subscription a while back, and I promptly turned around and had it sent to Mama instead. The library was good enough for me. Besides. Where she was at, getting the weekly paper was a real treat, and she didn’t have near enough of them these days.
I requested the current issue of the Tribune from the front desk, then settled onto a cushy chair and read the latest edition from the front page’s lead title to the final legal ad. Nothing grabbed my attention. Even the police blotter was suspiciously empty of kinfolks’ names.
I turned the paper back in and headed for the grocery store, picked up a few essentials. Feeding Riley dessert ever week eat into my stored goods, a price I willingly paid in exchange for the pleasure on his face when he saw what I cooked him next. Boy was getting plum spoiled and might go to fat, if he didn’t exercise the way he done.
The cashier rung me up. I gathered up my bags, smiling somewhat rueful like as I exited Ingles and stepped onto the asphalt parking lot. Riley and sports was like peas and carrots. If it weren’t one thing, ‘twas another. Football, tennis, basketball, and now water skiing, of all things, in October and him with a bad hip. Couldn’t slow some folks down, I reckoned, though a body could wish for it a little harder.
I stored my cold groceries
in the cooler I brung along for ‘em, then moseyed over to Jazz and BobbiJean’s house. They was both working, her at Injun Bob’s Pawn Shoppe and Fine Antiquities, formerly owned by her grandfather who was neither an injun nor a Bob, and Jazz behind the shop in a scrap metal junkyard. I took advantage of their absence and let myself into the garden through the rickety gate in the unpainted picket fence behind the tiny, one-story home they rented.
The chickens, what was left of ‘em, was penned up in a coop in one corner, surrounded on three sides and up top by chicken wire. One section looked new, like it’d been replaced in the past day or two. I picked my way through overgrown, dried up corn stalks and the last of the summer’s tomatoes, and took a close gander. Sure enough, metal twist ties fastened new wiring to old.
The chicken wire disappeared into fresh dug earth near a broken post in the picket fence. I cast around, but Jazz and BobbiJean’s footprints obscured any possible tracks. Likely, they made them prints when they repaired the coop, without giving a second thought to scattering the evidence, and why would they? I walked careful like around it anyhow, then did the same with the garden and the fence, looping in larger circles away from the house toward the woods and the creek separating their property from a neighbor’s.
I knelt beside the stream and searched its banks with my eyes. A few feathers was stuck in tree bark on the opposite side, reddish tinted. Could be chicken feathers, but I weren’t gonna wet my boots and find out, seeing as how the creek was a mite too cold to wade barefoot and I forgot to bring along old shoes.
Next time.
I smacked my palms against my thighs and stood. My gaze happened to land on fresh scat off to the side about five feet from me. I wandered over, squatted down. Too much to be a small animal, not enough for a bear. No seeds in it nohow, and them was a sure sign of an herbivore or maybe an omnivore. If it weren’t one of them, it could be a carnivore and what got the hens, or it could just be a stray dog. I rubbed a finger along my upper lip. Maybe it was nothing, but I’d be sure to warn BobbiJean when I checked in with her in a coupla days.