Steve adjusted his hair so that it covered most of his patch as he and Kayla approached the main lodge. The sun was just setting over the treetops and his heart was pounding.
This had better work.
Ahead of him, Kayla started climbing the stairs to the lodge. She stopped, looked back, and began to giggle.
"What's up, baby?" he asked, but he got his answer as he got closer to the front door. From inside, he could hear raised voices.
"I'm telling you I booked the 'Quail Master' not the 'Mallard's Retreat.' They are nothing alike - or is that something your backwoods, inbred brain is incapable of understanding? I don't want to be on the lake where I have to hear all those screaming, redneck brats. And what about the hot tub? We're supposed to have a hot tub." There was a pause. "God, why did I even bother?"
Steve tried not to laugh out loud. "I guess that's Mr. Miami."
"Must be the 'black sheep' of the family," Kayla muttered.
They entered and saw the speaker. His hair was slicked into a light, brown pompadour and was wearing a tan blazer, dark slacks, and patent leather shoes. For a moment, Steve had to wonder how he could possibly be related to Deakins or the women Kayla had described meeting earlier.
The desk clerk - the same young man who had taken Steve's $100 - glanced up as they entered. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels." Then he turned back to his irate customer. "I'm sorry, sir, but the reservation merely reflected you were reserving a cabin, not which cabin. And I can assure you that my parents are not remotely related, but if they were, my inbreeding has had no impact on my brain, which is currently carrying a 3.6 GPA at UGA. Now, I can ask Miss Ellie if there's anything I can do about finding you other accommodations, but all of the other cabins are taken, so we may have to find you lodging at another location."
Steve was impressed at the way the kid kept a straight face while Mr. Miami sputtered angrily, but Steve figured Bill and Kay Daniels should get out of the lobby before the man found out who was staying in his cabin. "Come on, Sweetness."
He let Kayla lead the way down a hall lined with animal heads. They could hear the rumble of voices at the far end and they walked down it until they reached an open set of double doors. Inside, the room was dominated by a fire roaring in the enormous stone fireplace.
Several men and a couple of elderly women were seated around the fireplace in dark, red leather chairs. They were swathed in a cloud of pipe and cigar smoke and were passing around a couple of bottles of Jack Daniels. Steve stifled a laugh when one of the old ladies, who had to be at least in her 80s, took a swig straight from one of the bottles.
Turning his head, Steve spotted a group of teens playing cards at a table across the room. One teenage girl had her foot resting on a chair; she was probably the girl Kayla had helped earlier. Around the teens, some younger kids were scooting around the floor with some toy trucks.
"Oh, Kay!" came a southern drawl from behind them. Steve nearly jumped, but Kayla showed no surprise as she calmly turned around.
"Hello," Kayla said. "I hope we're not late."
"No, of course not." The woman, who Steve saw for the first time, was probably around the same age as his own mother. She was a little on the plump side, with a head of red curls and a big, welcoming smile. "And this must be your husband," she said.
"Uh . . . yeah," Steve said. He held out a hand. "Bill Daniels."
The woman continued to beam. "Bill, welcome to our lodge. I'm Eleanor Deakins, but everyone calls me Ellie. Me and my husband, Fred, own this place. And we are mighty glad you're here. You can't imagine how grateful we are that Kay was able to take care of Lucy's ankle."
"That's my Sweetness," Steve said. "She's always taking care of people."
Ellie's eyes lit up and she looked at Kayla. "'Sweetness' . . . . I like your man already. Now, since you're going to be honorary Deakins for the night, how 'bout I introduce you to the clan."
Steve kept his head low as Ellie led them around the room. There were too many people for Steve to catch all the names, but he did catch Jim Bob, Jethro, and Bubba. The old lady with the whiskey was 'Aunt Patty.' Steve had no idea whose aunt she was or if "aunt" was a title; she did seem to be the matron in the group.
To his relief, there was no sign of Deakins. But at the same time, Steve felt a niggling of doubt. Shouldn't Deakins be here already? Maybe he was just running late, but maybe he had somehow found out about Steve.
"Have a seat, Bill," said one of the men with a short red beard and a camouflage baseball cap. Jethro, Steve told himself. "And, you too, Miss Kay."
"Not a chance," Ellie said, grabbing Kayla's arm. "I want Kay to come with me to the kitchen so she can see how we make a true southern meal." She turned to Kayla. "Y'all do cook, don't you? I mean, you're not like one of those yankee city dwellers who don't know their way around a kitchen?"
Steve spoke before Kayla could respond. "Of course not. Kay is quite the cook."
"Well, I don't really get a lot of time to, between my job and taking care of our little girl," Kayla said.
"A little girl!" Ellie cried. "Well you need to tell me all about her. Now come with me and we can leave the menfolk to talk about their stuff. I'm sure Bubba and Hal will want to tell your Bill all about their hunt this morning." She looked at the men. "Bill here is apparently quite the hunter."
That seemed to pique the men's interest. "You are?" asked Bubba, a wiry man, with thinning brown hair, who looked to be in his 30s.
I am? Steve wondered where that fact came from, but he quickly covered. "Uh . . . yeah . . . of course. I mean, what kind of man would I be if I didn't hunt?" He took a seat that Bubba motioned him to and noticed that Kayla was already following Ellie to the back of the room.
"Well," Jethro seemed to think for a minute. "Y'all could be like Cousin Wyatt. He don't hunt."
"Unless you mean hunting down college girls half his age down in South Beach," muttered Bubba.
"Y'all say that likes it's a bad thing," Jethro said.
Bubba frowned. "Man's gotta have some morals. Ah don't cotton to taking advantage of young girls."
Aunt Patty cleared her throat loudly. "Ain't the time or place for such talk," she announced, and Steve got the clear sense that she would have been fine with the gossip had there not been an outsider in their midst. The old woman took another drink and studied Steve through narrowed eyes. "You there . . . what happened to yore eye? Ya look like a pirate."
All the men fell silent, and one of them whose name Steve could not recall whispered, "Don't mind her. She's been drunk since World War II."
"I heard that," the old lady scowled. "So tell me, boy, what's your story?"
Steve shrugged. "Had a little accident. . . . back in my merchant marine days."
At that, Jethro snorted. Steve turned and looked at him, and the man chuckled. "Hey, I ain't got nothin' 'gainst you seabees. Y'all make sure we have our C-rations when we're in-country."
Steve thought that gave him an opening. "So you're a soldier?" He was surprised, because Jethro looked to be in his mid-40s and not particularly in-shape.
The man confirmed that. "Not anymore. 101st Airborne in 'Nam. Got me a Purple Heart in the A'Shau Valley in '69."
"Hell, they gave ya a metal for takin' some shrapnel in the ass," Bubba said, as several of the other men broke up laughing.
Steve glanced around. "Sounds like Jethro's not the only soldier among you."
"Most of us have done a tour or two," said the unnamed man. "It's pretty much SOP for a Deakins. We do got a couple of lifers though. Fred - he owns this place - put in 25 years. And his boy, you'll meet soon enough . . . Roy. He's a goddamn Green Beret."
"Language, Jackson!" Aunt Patty snapped.
The man looked down, chastened. "Yes, ma'am."
"Hey, there's Roy now," said Jethro. He waved at the door, so Steve turned around. Deakins was just coming through. With him was a petite blond, who seemed to be herding a boy and girl with white-blond hair. The woman said something to Deakins, who split off from his family and headed over to the group by the fireplace.
Steve had forgotten how big Deakins was. Or maybe he had never noticed, since the man was in a hospital bed for most of the time Steve had spent with him. Not to mention that Steve was hardly in the most observant state of mind at the time. But seeing Deakins approach, Steve had two thoughts. First, how the hell did Shane carry Deakins out of the compound? And, second, I'd better not piss this dude off or he'll break me in two.
Deakins apparently did not see Steve in the low light, so he had nearly reached the fireplace when Jethro said, "Hey, Roy, let me introduce you to a friend here." He motioned at Steve. "Bill Daniels. This is Cousin Roy."
"Good to meet y'all," Deakins said. "We-" He froze as Steve stood up and revealed the patch, but took just an instant to recover. "Bill, is it?"
"That's right," Steve said, taking Deakins' hand and giving it a hearty shake. "It's real nice to meet you. Your. . . ." Steve did not know the exact relationships between the men he had met and Deakins, so he said, "Your family's been telling me all about you."
Deakins did not look happy. "Uh, yeah. . . ." Deakins pulled his hand away and took a bottle of whiskey that Bubba passed to him. He took a quick swig.
"Ol' Bill here's an honorary clan member tonight," said Jethro. "His wife was the one who took care of Lucy's ankle earlier."
Deakins nodded and seemed to regain his bearings. He studied Steve, but his tone gave nothing away. "That's good ta hear. My Sis woulda been real worried and let it spoil the weekend. Y'all's wife's a godsend."
Yes, she is, Steve thought.
"So we were telling' Bill 'bout you bein' in the service," Jethro said.
"They were," Steve said lightly. "They said you're a Green Beret. That's pretty damn impressive."
Deakins said nothing. He looked like he was thinking hard and he took another drink from the bottle before he asked, "So what brings y'all down here?"
"Oh. . . ." Steve tried to think fast.
"He's a hunter, of course," Bubba said.
Deakins' eyes narrowed. "Is he now?" He looked at Steve. "So what y'all plannin' on huntin' out here?"
"Oh, I . . . well, I hadn't really decided," he said. "You know how it is - with the wife here and all."
The other men all seemed to commiserate, but Deakins continued to stare at Steve as if in disbelief.
"So what's the biggest kill you've had, Daniels?" asked Jethro. He sounded like he was trying to get the measure of Steve.
"Hmm. . . ." Steve stalled as he concocted a story. "Bear. Yeah, got me a bear over in Europe a number of years back. Yeah, was in Sweden with my buddy."
"A bear?" Deakins said evenly. "What kinda set-up did y'all use for that?"
Oh, damn, Steve thought. What the hell do I say to that?
"Yeah, Bill, what did you take that bear out with?" Bubba leaned forward excitedly. "A .30? I doubt a .22 would do much good against a big bear."
"Smart money would be on a 30-aught-six," said Jethro.
Grateful for the assist, Steve nodded quickly. "That's it. A 30-aught-six." Knowing the next question, he added, "Some European model. Don't even recall which. I borrowed it from my Swedish girlfriend's father for the day."
"So y'all's fine with shooting a borrowed gun." That came from Deakins, in a low voice only Steve could hear as the other men chattered on about hunting bear. Louder, Deakins said, "Well . . . seems to me, the only thing for y'all ta do is come along in the mornin'. I'm sure I've got a rifle y'all can use."
Steve felt a chill run down his spine, unsure how to interpret Deakins' tone. But he just nodded as the other men looked up, seemingly pleased at the invitation.
"That'll be great, Roy. I'll be looking forward to it."