Song of Life

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Song of Life Page 5

by C. L. McCullough


  “Mrs. Douglas mentioned you,” Cas said, straightening to his full height.

  “Reckon she did,” Clay remarked. “What with being robbed and all.”

  “Robbed? When was this? And why wasn’t I notified?” the sheriff asked the air somewhere to the left of Cas’s ear.

  “Were you speaking to me?” Cas asked politely.

  “Don’t pay no nevermind to Ennis here,” Clay said. “He’s got his reasons for never lookin’ anyone in the eye. Don’t you, Ennis?”

  Ennis pointedly ignored this remark and repeated his question.

  “I guess you’re being notified now. We just discovered it.”

  “This puts a different light on things,” Ennis said portentously to Clayton’s ear. “Mister, you’re under suspicion of theft.”

  He pulled a pad from his chest pocket and with an exaggerated gesture, flipped it open. One hand went hunting in a pants pocket, emerging seconds later with a stub of a pencil. He actually licked the lead tip, before his concentration returned to the vicinity of Clayton’s ear. “Now then. Name and last place of residence.”

  Cas was in a quandary. He couldn’t know for sure, but he had a sinking feeling if there was an official check done on him his father would find out. Jose had a very good relationship with his local police department, due mostly to the large donations he made to their various funds, and the private donations he made to the police chief. He’d find out, all right, and then…then what?

  What could Jose Aquilar do if he caught up with his runaway son? He couldn’t hurt him physically anymore. That time was long gone. The flashbacks had decreased until only strong emotion brought them out. Cas himself would have to find the cure for them. If Jose found him, he could make things difficult, make his life miserable, but only if Cas gave him the power. He was no longer that small boy; he would not live a small life. It had been a long time since there had been anything physical between them, but emotionally and spiritually Jose had raped him almost daily. He had never raped his body, but he had done a number on his mind.

  His father didn’t want him–his father despised him, in fact–but he wouldn’t let him go. He might try to grab him again, but despite his short time here, Cas felt he'd come home. This time, instead of running, he'd fight. This time he felt he had something to fight for.

  “Ennis,” Clay protested. “You got no call to treat this boy thataway.”

  “You stay outta this, Clayton. I’m just doing my job.” Ennis turned his head as he spoke, frowning at a bottle of ketchup over Clay’s right shoulder.

  Clay didn’t back down. “Talk to Sunny. She ain’t even reported it. You don’t want to get her riled at you, Ennis. It just ain’t healthy.”

  Ennis hesitated, watching Cas from the corner of his eye.

  “Look,” Cas said, finally giving in to his exasperation. “She sent me here to buy new tools.” He pulled out the money Sunny had advanced him.

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Cas would have been amused at the sheriff’s reaction. Ennis tried to draw the pistol hanging low at his sagging waistline, but his hat frustrated his efforts. The official sheriff’s hat, hanging by its chin strap from the pistol grip, swung back and forth as Ennis fumbled at his holster, before it finally gave up the fight. It sailed to the floor and disappeared under the shelf holding the pig’s feet.

  “So you stole her money too, you varmint! Turn around and put your hands behind your back!”

  “No, he won’t. You just catch ahold of yourself now. Go see Sunny. She can settle this.”

  “This is the way you do things in the south, is it? Take the easy way out?” Cas folded his arms and did some frowning of his own. “The tools were long gone. There was dust covering everything. If it had been recent, there would have been clear spots. Go see for yourself. Throw me in jail if you want, but first thing I'll do is find a good lawyer. You know any good lawyers?” he asked Clay.

  “Ain't that a contradiction, son? Sunny’ll have him out again before you can turn the key, Ennis. Best quit your preening and do as I say. Go talk to Sunny. You’re costing me a sale here with your foolishness.”

  “Fine. I’ll talk to Sunny. Clay, I’m making you responsible to see he don’t leave town, hear? You stay put, mister. I’ll be back.”

  Recovering his misbehaving hat with difficulty, Ennis stomped to the door. Seconds later tires squealed. Clay shook his head.

  “That pistol’s been nothing but a hat rack for years. God forbid anything should cover his crowning glory. Ever since some fool told him he looked like Charlie Rich, he’s been acting like an idiot. Wasn’t any too smart before that, wouldn’t want you to be getting the wrong impression. But now seems like he’s too busy posing to be thinking.”

  “Is that why–”

  “Yup, sure is. He was told Charlie’s profile was his best angle. So…” Clay shrugged.

  The two men looked at each other. Clay’s wrinkles deepened into ravines as he cracked a grin and Cas found himself grinning back. The deep sound of their laughter rang around the room.

  Finally Clay wiped his eyes and said, “Don’t mind him. Follow me, son, we’ll get you set up with some fine tools. You just pick what you want. If the cost is more than what you’re carrying, we’ll just put ’er on Sunny’s account.” He opened a door behind the counter and hollered, “Jewel! Jewel, come watch the front, I’ll be in the parts room.” And to Cas, “This way, you’ll be a proud man when we’re finished.”

  There’s pride and then there’s pride, Cas thought but he knew what Clay meant, and followed him willingly into an Aladdin’s cave made for males.

  * * * *

  Despite his determination to bring that smart ass stranger down a peg or two, Ennis was not in quite such a hurry as he seemed to confront Sunny. Girl had a tongue like an adder sometimes and had no hesitation whatsoever in using it, even with him. He did try to help. After all, he was older and wiser and she was a woman struggling alone without the help of a strong man anymore. It was his duty. He owed it to his old friend Will.

  William Wallace Douglas had been dead awhile now, but Ennis still considered him a friend and still looked out for Will’s interests. Sunny sort of fell under that umbrella. Will wouldn’t want her wasting money like she did. He tried to nudge her in the right direction but apparently he got to nudging a little too much sometimes and she’d snap at him like that bad tempered terrier of Bea McGregor’s.

  Which reminded him, he needed to check that dog’s shots. It was an ambition of his to one day put that damn dog out of its misery. He’d never admit it, but he was relieved when the radio rudely belched and announced another call.

  “Damn it, Marge, that’s clean out to the Cove. Send Randy.”

  “Randy and Jonas are busy with a dog fight.”

  “Great gobs of fire! He caught them? Red handed?”

  “He did.” There was a great deal of satisfaction in Marge’s voice. “And don’t cuss over the radio, Ennis.”

  “This is a red letter day,” Ennis said, completely ignoring her admonition. “We been after that ring for months. Well I’ll be damned. Johnny Benis’ll be spending some time with us. You make sure his bunk’s all ready, hear?”

  “Ten four, Sheriff. And you get yourself out to George McLaren’s place. He’s waiting.”

  “Shit. What’s his problem?”

  “Someone shot one of his cows.”

  “Shit! Probably putting it out of its misery. What makes George think he can farm on land that’s ninety degrees straight up?”

  “Not our concern,” Marge replied. “Shooting cows is.”

  “Damn!” Ennis tugged at the deep wave of silver hair that fell artistically over his forehead. Then, realizing what he’d done, he said “Damn!” again and lovingly patted it back into place. “On my way, Marge. Ten four and out.”

  * * * *

  Sunny considered herself a fair minded person, relatively even tempered, prone to give people the benefit of the doubt. She’d c
ut Ennis a lot of slack in the past but he was pushing her to her limits with his high handed ways. Grilling her employees like they were criminals and disturbing her guests with his loud voice. Embarrassing her.

  He stomped through reception to her office, didn’t find her there, stomped back through and into the dining room, where he harassed Peg and upset her so much she dropped a pitcher of water, almost on top of Mr. Watson’s head. Then he had barged into the kitchen, where he found her conferring with Reese.

  Reese had already tried her temper, carrying on about strangers no better than they ought to be and who ate too much besides. When Ennis announced he wanted to arrest Cas, she lost it completely.

  “Just too much of a coincidence, you ask me,” Ennis told Reese’s right ear. “Stranger in town, tools disappearing. Need to look at that shed, search that cottage. Bet we find them.”

  “You’re an idiot, Ennis Ratcliff. It’s beyond me where you find the votes to get re-elected like you do.”

  “Hell, folks vote for him ’cause they know they can do as they damn well please if he’s sheriff,” Reese drawled.

  “That ain’t true!” Ennis said. “Why, we busted a dog fighting ring just today.”

  “You did personally?” Reese said. “You sure about that? Seems like you’re too busy harassing innocent strangers. I’d bet you money it was those deputies of yours. One of them’ll make us a good sheriff one day.”

  To Sunny’s amusement, Ennis got so mad he looked Reese in the eye. Reese tended to have that effect on folks.

  “Those boys do like I tell them. If that there dog ring was busted, it was on my watch, on my orders. I ain’t the fool you think I am.”

  “Why the fuck you acting like one then? Damn it, you got no right coming in here, upsetting Sunny and questioning her judgment. You treat her like she’s a child. I’m surprised she ain’t whopped you upside the head before now. And now you got me switching sides, ’cause fair’s fair and that boy ain’t done a damn thing wrong. Fuck, Ennis, the boy ain’t been here long enough to do shit.”

  “I need to see the shed,” Ennis said stiffly to a big can of peas sitting on a shelf to Sunny’s left.

  “Reckon I’ll just tag along. We got things under control here,” Reese said, taking off his apron.

  “For God’s sake, Ennis, I haven’t made a complaint,” Sunny said, furious. “And I don’t plan to now. You got no right to check anything without a complaint. How you could think Cas–”

  “Let him check it out, Sunny,” Reese soothed. “It’ll make him happy and it ain’t no skin off our noses. Not a thing he can do without a complaint from you. You coulda sold them for all he knows.”

  Ennis looked much struck. “Did you?” he asked hopefully.

  Sunny didn’t bother to reply. She gave Ennis a scathing look, turned her back on him, and marched out the kitchen door., The men trailed behind her.

  She tried to calm herself as she made her way around the inn to the storage shed. It was difficult, because she’d had just about all she could take of Ennis and his so called ‘help’. Picking on Cas for no other reason than prejudice was the last straw. If he understood Cas as she did…and that pulled her thinking up short.

  She didn’t know Cas. She wasn’t privy to his past or anything else about him, other than he was on the run from his family. Why did she identify with him so when they’d only just met? Why was there this…recognition, for lack of a better word? It wasn’t just an urge to help either. Although humiliating to admit, there was more to their relationship than that. It just wasn’t right. She was acting perverted. God only knew what the age difference was. It wasn’t how she’d been brought up.

  She tried to conjure Jim in her mind. Jim with his all-American face, constant smile and beautiful hair. But the auburn turned to black, the all-American nose hooked arrogantly and Cas smiled back at her. Damn it! She had to get over this. She sure as hell wasn’t old enough for menopause. She could think of no other reason for her or her body to be acting this way.

  Her thoughts didn’t improve her mood. When she saw Clayton Smith’s old black truck backed up to the shed and Cas getting out of the cab, she whirled around to confront Ennis.

  “You try to arrest him, you even touch him, I’ll have Paul Duncan sue your fat ass for false arrest. You hear me Ennis?”

  “Ain’t no call to be rude,” Ennis said, sounding hurt.

  “You mark my words,” Sunny said more calmly. “I can make things difficult for you, and you know I can. Don’t push me.”

  Ennis cleared his throat. “Well now, let’s take a look at this here shed a’fore y’all muck things up. Stand back y’all, stand back and let me take a look see.”

  He walked into the shed and turned in circles much as Sunny had done earlier.

  “Uh huh, uh huh. You see there?”

  “See what?” Reese asked from the door.

  “Nothing but dust. It’s been awhile since them contraband items was taken. If it had been recent like, there’d be clean spots. Where the tools had been, you see what I’m saying?”

  Cas and Clay exchanged glances.

  “What?” Sunny said sharply, looking from one man to the other.

  Cas opened his mouth, but closed it again when Clay whispered, “Let him have it. It’ll get it all over quicker. Pretty soon he’ll believe it was all his own idea in the first place. It’ll make him easier to live with.”

  Cas nodded, ducking his head to hide a smile. Ennis emerged from the shed, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves, checking his wave to make sure it was still in place.

  “See no reason to hold you further, mister.”

  “His name’s Cas,” Sunny said. “He works for me, and I’ll thank you to be leaving him alone in the future. He has a job, he has a place to stay, he’ll be paying his way, so none of your tricks, Ennis. I’ll know, believe me, I’ll know and you’ll regret it, I do promise you that.”

  “I got business to tend to,” Ennis said with dignity. “I got no more time to spend on this. I’ll be around later, Clay, for my Redman.” Head held high, he disappeared around a corner of the inn.

  “Let’s get this stuff unloaded,” Clay said cheerfully. “Time’s awasting and I got a store to run. Jewel don’t like being left alone too long.”

  “I can get it, don’t bother yourself. I appreciate the lift though. You saved me some trips.”

  Cas moved toward the pickup. Reaching in the open window, he picked up a small brown bag.

  “For you,” he called to Sunny, holding the bag in the air. She moved toward him, smiling as she took the bag and opened it. Her gaze flew up to his as she pulled out a large padlock.

  “Keys are with it. It’s up to you if you want me to have one or not. You’re the boss.”

  “That’s what you think,” Sunny muttered.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking out loud. Congratulations on outthinking Ennis.”

  “I feel like I’ve passed some sort of test,” Cas admitted.

  “Trial by Ennis? We all have, to one extent or another. I don’t know how that idiot keeps getting elected. But I’ll let you get to work. Reese? You were telling me about tonight’s menu when we were interrupted. Let’s go.”

  “That’s right, I was telling you. Don’t think you’ll be making any changes, ’cause you ain’t.”

  “Cas says I’m the boss,” Sunny said provocatively.

  “Not in my fucking kitchen, you ain’t. I’ll take it up with him later.”

  “That’s all right, Reese.” Sunny patted his arm in sympathy. “We all have our burdens to bear. I guess I’m yours just as much as you’re mine.”

  Reese sputtered wordlessly. Sunny laughed as she led the way back to the inn.

  Chapter 7

  The days were getting longer and hotter.

  Cas fell into the routine of starting work as soon as it was light, walking through the dew drenched grasses, crossing the bridge he’d repaired himself on his first day,
until he arrived at what he called in his mind ‘the battlefield.’

  All morning he waged war against scrub oak and seedling pines, cursing the blackberry brambles that seemed to have wound themselves around everything. A dense thicket of chinaberries took several days to clear, including roots. He was thankful he’d had the foresight to buy a heavy pair of gloves. Between brambles, poison ivy and the ever present honeysuckle with its strong vines, his hands would have been in bad shape.

  Around noon, taking Reese’s advice, he switched to less strenuous tasks. He’d been losing weight despite getting three large meals a day and as fast as he drank water, he sweated it out. His jeans were getting loose, yet his arms and chest were putting on muscle. He kept a shirt on–he wasn’t quite a fool–but his forearms darkened even more and when he shaved in mornings, the mirror reflected eyes that looked light in his deeply tanned face.

  When the sultry heat of the afternoon pressed heavily on the valley, Cas would be inside, tightening faucets, replacing worn out floor tiles in the reception room, checking a touchy mixer in the kitchen. Today he planned to regrout a tub in Room Twelve. This new routine would hopefully stop the weight loss. He couldn’t afford to lose much more.

  It had been a little over a week since he’d started this job and several days since Reese had bullied him into the new routine. He’d heard nothing more from Ennis and more importantly, neither had Sunny, so at least one good thing had come out of it. He hadn’t seen much of Sunny, just in passing mostly, but she seemed to occupy his thoughts more than was seemly. Just as he had that thought, he saw her walking toward him. She didn’t come back here often; this was maybe the second time. He straightened up, pulling off his gloves and wiping his face with his shirt tail.

  “Thought I’d check on progress. Lord, you’ve got a lot done!”

 

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