“Evenin’,” Eli offered while making no attempt to disguise his thorough study of Mary Ellen’s body.
“Why, of course I know of the deputy,” Mary Ellen said, with a forced smile, turning her attention to Gentry. “We’ve never met, but I’m pleased to meet you now. Welcome to our home.” When Gentry shifted his gaze to see what was on the stove, she glanced at her husband and rolled her eyes, registering her annoyance. He shrugged and made a helpless gesture. When Gentry returned his gaze to concentrate on her again, she said, “Why don’t you two go ahead and wash up for supper, and I’ll have it on the table by then? You go along, too, Danny. I know your hands could use some scrubbing.”
Feeling no compulsion to do likewise, Eli stood by while Ben and his son washed up at the pump on the back porch. “You know,” he commented, “a drink of likker would go good before supper. You must have a bottle around here somewhere. Ain’tcha?”
“Sorry,” Ben replied. “I ain’t got anythin’ stronger than cider, and it ain’t even hard cider, but you’re welcome to that.” It was not the truth. He had a bottle of rye whiskey that he took a nip from every once in a while, but he figured supper was enough to waste on the likes of Eli Gentry. It could be, he thought, that he was judging Eli too harshly, but he had heard a few stories about the bullying tactics of the deputy. He guessed it boiled down to the fact that he just didn’t like the man. It was a gut feeling.
Eli curled his lip in a show of disgust. “I reckon I’ll pass on the cider.”
Supper was a silent affair for the most part. Mary Ellen and Ben tried to engage in some polite conversation at first, but there was no response that amounted to more than a grunt from Gentry. His attention was focused strictly on his plate as he stuffed his face with food.
“Well, I reckon I’ve put you folks out enough,” Gentry finally said. “I’d best get out to the barn and hit the hay.” He looked at Mary Ellen, who was already clearing the table. “Thank you for the supper, ma’am. I ain’t et that good in a while.” Then he smiled at Ben and said, “You’re a lucky man, Cutler.”
Ben grinned. “I reckon I’m aware of that.” He winked at Mary Ellen. “She won’t let me forget it.” He got up from the table then and walked Gentry to the door. “I don’t know how early you’re thinkin’ about startin’ out in the mornin’, but you’re welcome to some breakfast with us if you want.”
“Just might do that,” Eli replied, casting a quick gaze in Mary Ellen’s direction. “Just might do that,” he repeated, then stepped out the door.
“I’ll send Danny out to get you when breakfast is ready,” Ben called after him. He turned back to find Mary Ellen facing him.
“I’ll be glad to see that man gone from here,” she said. “He’s got a look about him that makes my skin crawl.”
“He ain’t what you’d call housebroke is he?” Ben replied, shaking his head as he thought about the awkward mood around the supper table. “I reckon he’s all right. I guess we can stand him for one night and breakfast in the mornin’.” He clasped his hands together over his head and took a good long stretch. “I guess I’m ready to turn in. I’ve got a big day tomorrow if I’m gonna get the lower field plowed.” He winked at his wife and shifted his eyes toward his son, who was emulating his father’s stretching. Mary Ellen smiled and nodded her head.
Ben had already gone into the bedroom by the time Mary Ellen had finished cleaning up her kitchen. The evening had already faded from twilight to make way for the deep darkness that would soon follow when she paused at the back door before hurrying across the yard to the outhouse. Ben would probably laugh at her, but she didn’t feel comfortable with Eli Gentry in the barn. Although she was sure he was not up and about, she still felt as if his eyes were somehow on her. As soon as her business in the outhouse was finished, she almost ran back to the house. Once inside, she quickly barred the door and made straight for the bedroom, never feeling at ease until she was snuggled up against her husband’s back.
In spite of her sense of concern, the night passed as other nights before it, and she woke at first light and slipped out of bed. She would start the fire in the stove and put the coffee on to boil before waking Danny. Ben would already be awake. He was always aware when she left the bed. She rolled out her dough and formed her biscuits to be ready when the oven was hot enough. While they baked, she sent Danny to the henhouse to gather eggs while she cut strips of bacon. A thought occurred to her that it might not be a good idea to prepare such a big breakfast. It might encourage Eli Gentry to visit again. But then he might tell everyone in Crooked Fork that Ben Cutler’s wife was a sorry cook.
Ben came in when she called to him from the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down to await breakfast. He was into his second cup when Mary Ellen sent Danny out to tell Gentry breakfast was ready. Baked biscuits, a large bowl of scrambled eggs, and a plate piled high with bacon were all on the table and in danger of getting cold when Mary Ellen paused and looked toward the back door. “Where in the world is that boy?” she exclaimed. “How long does it take to walk to the barn?”
Ben chuckled. “Probably forgot why you sent him out there. I’ll go get ’em.”
Gentry was standing near the barn door when Ben walked in. “Mornin’,” Ben said. When there was no sign of his son, he asked, “Where’s Danny? He was supposed to tell you that breakfast is ready.”
“He did,” Gentry said. “He’s over in that back stall.”
“Danny!” Ben called. “What are you doin’, boy?” When there was no answer, he walked back to the stall to see what the rambunctious boy might be up to. “What are you do—” he started to repeat, but was stopped cold by the sight of the boy lying facedown in the middle of the stall. “Danny!” he uttered fearfully and rushed to drop to his knees beside his son. Only then did he see the blood-soaked hay beneath Danny’s head. “Danny!” he cried again, forgetting all else in his panic, his only thought was to save the boy’s life. The horror of the discovery sent his mind reeling with a paralyzing jumble of thoughts. He turned Danny over and started to pick him up, but was staggered by the sight of his son’s neck gaping from a bloody slit from ear to ear. Still, in an effort to save him, he struggled to his feet; his only thought then was to get to Mary Ellen, praying she could tell him what to do to save Danny’s life. With Danny’s body in his arms, he turned to be met with the full force of Gentry’s half sword across his face. The blow rendered him unconscious. Dropping to his knees, and still clutching the still body of his son, he fell over on his side.
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