by Frank Hayes
“He’s beautiful,” she said, looking at the colt that was nibbling at his mother’s neck. After a playful bite, the mare laid her ears back and stomped her foot. The colt backed away while she ate the last of the feed.
“Yes. He’s looking good.”
“Is he going to be black like his mother?”
“I don’t think so. There’s enough of his father in there that I think he is going to be a kind of mahogany color with some reddish highlights. Probably won’t know for sure until he sheds out next spring. It’s funny about color. Some foals born black turn gray by the end of their first year. Those Lippanzanner horses almost always turn completely white, no matter what color they are when they are first dropped.” While he spoke the colt had walked over. Virginia reached her hand through the rails to stroke his nose. He tentatively extended his neck while she ran her fingers over his muzzle then alongside his jaw. He seemed to settle under her stroking.
“Looks like you’ve got the touch. He likes you. That’ll make it easier.”
“What do you mean? Make it easier?”
“It’s always easier to school a horse that likes you. He will learn quickly from you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Merry Christmas,” Virgil said. “He’s all yours. I think he was meant to be. A present from me and your grandmother.”
“But . . .”
Virgil raised his hand.
“No buts. Like I said, this old girl who was my mother’s horse picked this time to finally drop a foal. Now I know why. Some things, I think, are meant to happen for a reason. Maybe some people call this karma. I like to think my mom is reaching across to her granddaughter.”
Virginia’s eyes filled.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll keep him here until he’s weaned. Cesar and I will work with him while you are back at school. Then when you return, you can take over.”
She turned toward Virgil.
“Thanks, Dad.” He drew her close. Virgil was truly feeling like a dad for the first time.
Chapter 23
Dave Brand was standing in the doorway of the bedroom down the hall from his and Rosie’s room. A cup of steaming coffee in his hand, he was looking at the newly assembled crib and patting himself on the back. It was the first day of the workweek, January fifth. He would soon be on his way down to Redbud, but he took a little extra time to admire his handiwork. Sunlight was flooding into the room, falling on the crib like the centerpiece it was. There was no other furniture in the room. It was way too early. Rosie had finished her third month, the unsaid marker of a secure pregnancy. In her fourth month she was now comfortable with the idea of public knowledge of her condition but still thought it way too early for baby furniture. The crib had been Dave’s idea. She told him he was crazy but didn’t fight him on it. She recognized that he was in a way surprisingly renewed by her news. That was unexpected. She realized a lot of men his age would not have reacted like Dave. Rosie knew things could have been a lot different. He was still standing in the doorway when she came down the hall.
“You know that crib is going to collect a lot of dust before it gets an occupant.”
“Yeah, I know, but since the kids grew up and moved out . . . I don’t know. Guess in some ways it just felt like this house had lost its purpose. Two empty bedrooms, one with no furniture at all. Then me gone most of the week down in Redbud. You coming home from work to an empty house. I don’t know. You never said anything but I can’t believe you didn’t wonder, why bother cleaning an empty house or fixing something that broke. I know I did, even though I was hardly here. I remember one day last spring, right after Carrie had her baby, thinking when I was looking at the swing set in the backyard that she might as well take it since we had no more use for it. Downsizing, I thought. That’s what this is. Then I remember thinking, I’m only forty-four years old. It’s over. I’m shifting into the next gear. Really brought me down, made me feel like life was passing me by. Then when you told me about the baby a few months later, I felt like I was getting a second chance.” Rosie smiled. “Guess you think I’m going through a midlife crisis.”
“Well, maybe you are, but you better understand that this baby is going to move out in twenty years or so like the other three did and I ain’t planning on having one of those Guinness old-age pregnancies just to keep you from avoiding the fact we’re getting old. So this is it. You did a great job with the crib, and I’ll remind you about that second chance at two o’clock in the a.m. when I ask you to change that crying baby. Come on, lunch is on the table.”
• • •
Rosie glanced at the time on the microwave as she was putting the lunch dishes in the sink. It was a little after two.
“I should have been out of here long ago.”
“Thought Virgil said you didn’t have to go in while I was here.”
“Virgil’s too easy on other people and too hard on himself. That office is busier than it has ever been. He just takes more and more on himself to keep up.”
“Well, leave that cleanup to me. I’m in no rush. I told Alex I’d get down to Redbud by five so that gives me some time.”
Rosie stopped what she was doing, then left the kitchen. A couple of minutes later she was back, coat on and ready to leave. Dave had loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher and was wiping off the counter. She gave him a quick kiss then stepped into the doorway.
“Just for the record, Dave, if I’m going to have a baby with anyone in middle age, I’d rather it be with you than anybody.” She blew him a kiss. Dave reached up as if to catch it, then Rosie smiled and went out the front door.
• • •
“Rosie, what are you doing here? I thought Virgil said you wouldn’t be in today.” Dif was alone in the office.
“Well, Dave will be heading down to Redbud in a little while so I didn’t want Virgil having to come in just to attack that pile of paperwork from last week. Did Jimmy check in yet?”
“He has been here and gone. Starting his rounds. So far everything has been pretty quiet. Hoping it stays that way. Don’t need to start the New Year off with a bang.”
“You and Edna made any New Year’s resolutions?”
“Just that same one we make every year. Try to stay one step ahead of the gravedigger.”
“Guess we all make that one, Dif.”
“Yeah, but once you hit seventy you can feel him breathing down your neck. Hell, you don’t have to worry for a long time about that. You and Dave are getting ready to start a second family. We were talking to folks last week at the party. Edna said she never saw Dave happier. Like he just got the best Christmas present ever.” Dif waited for the quick response that usually came from Rosie, but there was none. He looked over at her. “Anything the matter, Rosie?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “It’s just that I was thinking about Dave and the new crib he put together for the baby. All the time he was working on it this morning, I could hear him whistling and talking. One time I walked out into the hallway to listen. He was talking to the baby. ‘Daddy’s making sure you are going to be safe and sound in this here crib. You’re going to be sleeping here each night with all your little furry critters dreaming those nice dreams and Mommy and Daddy are going to be right next door.”
“Well, I guess Edna’s right. Dave’s never been happier.”
Chapter 24
It was a little after five when Jimmy called. Virgil was sitting in the kitchen. Clara was starting to make supper. It had been a quiet day. He actually had a chance to get out to the barn and do a couple of things that he had been putting off. So now, taking a break, he poured each of them a glass of wine. He had just taken his first sip when the phone rang.
“Virgil.” From the moment Jimmy said his name, a cold shiver ran through him. He didn’t want to hear the next words. “It’s bad, Virgil, real bad.” There was a catch in Jimmy’s voice followed by a gasp almost like he was cho
king.
“Where are you, Jimmy? Where are you?” There was a garbled answer in the static on the phone. Virgil knew Jimmy was in his cruiser. He had to repeat the question.
“Where are you?”
“Mrs. Summers . . . Mrs. Summers’s house.”
“Is Cecil there? Jimmy, is Cecil there?”
“Yes . . . yes, he’s here.”
“Jimmy, listen to me. Don’t do anything, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“But, Virgil . . . it’s, it’s—” Again the garbled sound, but this time more like a sob.
“Jimmy, I hear you, I know it’s bad. Take some deep breaths, just hang on. I’m on my way.” Virgil leaped out of the chair so quickly, Clara dropped the empty saucepan she was holding.
“Got to go.” It was all he said. She knew by the look on his face that there wouldn’t be another word out of him. He ran into the other room. When he returned he was strapping on his gun belt. She was standing by the kitchen door holding his sheepskin coat and his Stetson. Wordlessly, he slipped into the open coat she held, then grabbed the hat.
“It’s cold out there, Virgil.” Their eyes met for an instant. He knew she was talking about more than just the weather. “Take care.” She spoke the words as he flew out the door and ran to his vehicle. Clara watched from the kitchen window as the car tore up the driveway, scattering dirt and dead leaves in its wake. Virgil had the siren and flashing red lights on before he reached the county road. She watched until he was out of sight, then sat down heavily in the chair Virgil had leaped from. She did not have a good feeling.
It was less than ten minutes but seemed longer when Virgil pulled up in front of the Summers house. He was a little surprised to see two cruisers parked one in back of the other alongside the curb. He thought Simon was out of town, but he didn’t stop to puzzle it out. He jumped from the car. There was no sign of Jimmy. When he reached the small porch with the one step up Jimmy opened the front door. He was bareheaded, his gun holstered, and he seemed unexpectedly composed. He held up his right hand, stopping Virgil in his tracks.
“Sheriff, take a step back and listen.” Jimmy’s voice sounded different, almost as if it were coming from a much older man. “I gotta tell it before you go in there so you know what to expect, and I think I can only tell it once.” Virgil took the step back, instinctively grabbing the nearby handrail of the small porch. Jimmy was holding on to the frame of the door like it was a life preserver. He took a deep breath. “This is what Mrs. Summers told me. Cecil busted into the house about an hour ago with a loaded shotgun. He said she was keeping him from his kids and accused her of sleeping around. He told her he was going to kill her and her boyfriend. She said she tried to tell him that the man in the kitchen was a plumber she called to fix the dishwasher but she said he was crazy mad. The more she tried talking to him, the crazier he got. The plumber tried to talk to him, she said, but when he took a step toward him, Cecil unloaded one of the barrels. I guess the plumber was holding some kind of a metal basin, probably to catch dripping water from the dishwasher. Anyway, it more than likely saved his life. Caught a good part of the shot from the gun, not all of it. He got hit. Looks like he took most of it in his side. He’s on the kitchen floor bleeding a lot. Mrs. Summers is with him. The EMTs are on their way.”
“So this sounds . . .” Jimmy held up his hand before Virgil could continue.
“No . . . no.” His voice had an angry edge. “Not all, there’s more.” Virgil heard the voice from the telephone for a second time. He took a deep breath, gripping the handrail tighter.
“Dave was driving by when he heard the shot. Guess he was heading down to Redbud. That’s his car in front of mine. He got here just before I did.” Jimmy’s eyes glazed for an instant as he glanced at Dave’s cruiser. “Dave stopped when he heard the shot then ran into the house. Mrs. Summers said Cecil just seemed to react. He shot him as he came through the door. Dave didn’t have a metal basin. Never even got a chance to draw his weapon. Didn’t know what hit him. Caught the full load. He’s dead, Virgil. Lying in there against the wall, soaked in blood. He’s dead, Virgil . . . Dave’s dead. I held him in my arms. He said one or two things then closed his eyes. ”
As Jimmy repeated the phrase, it was like the air going out of a balloon. He slumped against the door. Virgil instinctively grabbed him. He felt his full weight, knew he would have gone down if he hadn’t caught him. He heard the sound of a siren, getting louder as it came down the street. He could feel Jimmy shaking. Then he heard him sob. He held him tighter. There were voices now behind him, coming up the sidewalk. He heard someone call him Sheriff. He knew what he had to do. Two attendants came onto the porch in back of him. One tried to walk around him, to enter the house.
“No,” Virgil shouted. “No. Don’t go in there.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears. “I’ve got to make sure it’s secure. Here, help this officer.” Virgil recognized the attendant. He shifted Jimmy to the waiting EMT, who, with the help of the other attendant, walked Jimmy off the step onto the path that led from the house to the waiting ambulance. Virgil looked at the opened doorway, took a deep breath, then drew his gun. Dave was crumpled up against the wall, as Jimmy said. He couldn’t see his face, it had sagged to one side, but the spreading pool of blood had reached the edge of the throw rug that lay in the small entryway. To the right was the living room, while just beyond from where he was standing he could see most of the kitchen. The kitchen and living room area were separated only by an L-shaped breakfast bar. In the corner beyond the breakfast bar, in back of the living room, was the dining area with a table and chairs. Virgil could see Cecil handcuffed on the floor, immobile. His hands were cuffed in back of him. He was sitting, leaning up against a wall. Cecil looked at Virgil, his eyes glazed, a weird half grin on his face. Jimmy had done his job. Virgil holstered his gun, then walked through to the kitchen area.
The plumber was sitting on the floor against one of the base cabinets under the sink. Elvira Summers sat next to him, holding a bathroom towel to his side. Virgil could see it was soaked in blood. She looked up when she saw Virgil. He crouched down next to her. There was blood on her clothing, a vacant look in her eyes. She mouthed something Virgil couldn’t make out. She tried to say something again. Virgil put his finger to his lips. “It’s over.” He said. “It’s over,” he put his hand on her shoulder, then stood up. He left the room, walked past Dave trying not to look, on to the front porch. He waved to the EMTs.
“Come on. Danger’s passed.”
Two of them immediately came up to him. A young woman stayed with Jimmy. Virgil told the two men what they would find inside, then watched as they walked by. He stood for a moment trying to piece it all together. A man who he had just let out of jail against Rosie’s wishes had just killed her husband. Down deep he knew he had no choice. He didn’t make the rules. That knowledge was cold comfort as he stood on the small porch, moving to the side as one of the attendants walked by him to the inside, carrying a body bag. If there were no rules, he knew without hesitation he could have walked right back into that kitchen and put a bullet deep inside Cecil Summers’s brain. For the first time in a long time he knew again the savage that was inside him, wanting to be unleashed. His new deputy, Simon, had spoken of it. Virgil heard his words echo.
I did things I never thought I could do. I became someone I never knew. And worst of all, when I left Afghanistan I brought that person home with me. I’ve been running away from him ever since.
Standing on the walk outside the Summers house as the second of two vehicles and the one carrying Dave Brand’s body drove off, Virgil knew one thing. He was incapable of running away from who he was. He had never done it. He was not about to start now.
Chapter 25
She was still there when he walked into the office.
“Don’t say it, Virgil.” She was the first to speak. He pulled his chair over to her desk where she was sitting. He sat down then reached across, taking one of her h
ands in his. Edna, Dif’s wife, put a cup of coffee next to him on the desk then sat next to Rosie on the other side. Rosie repeated the phrase. “Don’t say it, Virgil. You let Cecil out because you had to, I get that. Maybe Dave had to go so Elvira would be there for her kids. I don’t know, but I know it’s not your fault. You’ve got to know that too.” Rosie looked at Virgil. For the first time tears flowed freely down his cheeks. Rosita choked back a sob.
“Where is he, Virgil?”
“He’s with Ark at the hospital.”
“Was it quick?”
“Dave never knew what hit him, never saw it coming. Jimmy was there almost immediately, after Dave was hit. He held Dave until the very end.”
“Did he say anything? Anything at all?”
“Jimmy said he looked up at him and said, Tell Rosie it’s okay. Then Jimmy said he just closed his eyes and went to sleep.” Rosie put her head down on their locked hands. Her whole body convulsed. Edna put her arm around Rosie’s shoulders. A wail straight from her soul filled the room, ending in muffled sobs. Virgil and Edna comforted her. At last she picked her head up.
“Where’s Cecil?” It was an inquiry. There was no anger in her voice.
“I didn’t want him here. Called the state police. They came and got him.”
“How’s Jimmy?”
“He did everything I would have done. Tore the heart right out of him but he did his job. It will take some time but he’s going to be alright. ”
“I’ve got to call the kids,” Rosie said.
“No, you don’t, honey.” Edna drew Rosie close. “Dif is taking care of that. What you need to do right now is take care of yourself and that baby. You know that baby is going to help you keep Dave alive. Remember before, how you were telling me Dave was talking to that little girl. Well, he was talking for you too. Now, you will have to talk for him. That’s how he is going to stay alive for her and you.”