I picked pears until late in the afternoon, when Hannah came to the front porch steps and called to me.
"Come in out of the heat for awhile," she called.
"I'm almost done," I called back.
I picked another bucket after that. The more pears I picked, the more I thought about Doc G. He would have had
something to say about this whole mess, some sage advice on how to handle it. I felt my chest clutch in pain at the loss
of him. What had he been to me? Friend? Yes, for sure. And mentor. And a little bit of father thrown into the mix.
Fat Clarence had been laying there, in the shade of the trees, while I'd been busy picking.
"Want to go to the cemetery?" I asked him. "Want to go to Doc's grave?"
Clarence thumped his tail in understanding. He knew the word, 'Doc'.
"Okay. We'll go," I told him. "I'm going to get these pears all picked first, though. So I don't have to do
it again tomorrow."
I moved the ladder that was propped against the tree where Guthrie had left it, and struggled with it,
to place it against another tree.
I was on the third rung from the top, reaching into the tall limbs, picking pears as swiftly as I could, when I heard someone say my
name, and turned to see Adam walking toward me.
"Hi," I greeted him.
He placed a hand on the ladder, as if to steady it. "You know I don't like you up on this thing."
"I'm being careful," I told him, pushing my hair back from where it had escaped the braid.
"You've done enough for today. Come on down," he said.
I lifted the half-full bucket from where it was hooked over the top of the ladder, and lowered it down to him.
He took it and set it on the ground, and then stood there, bracing the ladder as I came down.
"Don't get on there anymore, you hear me?" he said.
"Okay," I said.
He paused, looking down at me. "Scary time in town today, huh?"
"Yeah," I said.
He brushed my hair back and I said, "Ford was really great, though. He handled it just right."
"I'm glad about that," he said, just looking at me.
"I was thinking I'd go to the cemetery for awhile," I said. "Take Clarence with me, and make sure
there's no weeds around Doc G's grave."
Adam nodded. "Ask one of the boys to go with you," he said then.
"Even to the cemetery?" I asked him, incredulously.
"Yeah," he said quietly, and gave my cheek a pat before he turned to walk away.
Daniel went with me to the cemetery, and he helped me pull the weeds that had grown around Doc G's stone, and
then he went back to sit in his truck, giving me a few minutes with Clarence, and my thoughts of Doc G.
7
For a couple of days, things were relatively quiet. There were no weird phone calls, with threats or breathy silence on the
other end. There were no letters, and when Daniel and Crane went to town for supplies, they came home to report that
nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, and they'd seen no strangers.
I began to hope that the nonsense was past. Though the mystery of the blood, and the shots that Adam and I had
heard while we were camping were still unanswered, I was ready for some normalcy. And I knew that everybody
else in the family felt the same.
7
Then it began again. Though slowly. There was another call. Where nobody answered. Evan slammed
the phone down.
Then an entire section of our fence was flattened to the ground, smashed and obviously driven over by
large vehicles. Luckily, none of our cattle were able to escape since they'd been moved closer to the house already.
The sheriff was called, yet again, and he drove with my brothers up to look at the fence before the repairs
were begun. The tire tracks going in and out were photographed, and measured and all of that. I got to ride along,
squeezed in between Evan and Adam in the back of the Jeep, while Brian drove and Hal sat up front beside him.
I found the whole investigative thing interesting, watching him do all the measuring, and then hearing him talk about
what sort of tire tracks they were. When Hal crouched down near the tracks, and said, "See here?", then Evan, Brian and
Adam all crouched down, too, to examine where he was pointing.
"It's a big vehicle," Hal was saying, and I crowded closer, leaning on Evan's shoulder so I could lean over
and see too.
"How big?" Brian was asking. "Are you saying the size of a semi-truck?"
"Yeah. See the distance between?" Hal said, gesturing.
They all stayed like that for a full minute or two, until they started standing up again.
"Cattle rustling?" Evan asked.
"Nobody's missing any cattle," Hal said. "Least ways no reports that I've heard of. You all found all yours, didn't you?"
"We did," Adam said. "No foul play causing ours to disappear like they did. Just wandering."
"So not cattle rustling," Brian said, in thought.
"Doesn't appear so," Hal said. He measured a couple more tracks and then they stood there, talking for a few minutes.
Hal went on to tell them that though a deputy had been nearby the lumberyard on Saturday at two o'clock, they
hadn't seen Seth.
"He spotted the deputy's car, most likely," Hal went on. "And then cleared out. If it was him at all," he added.
They discussed what had happened in town with Ford and I earlier in the week.
"Hmm. Hmm. Hmm," Hal said, looking concerned. To me, he said, "And you'd never seen them before?"
"No," I said. "But Ford said he thought he might have seen one of them before."
We drove back to the house, and Hal declined the offer to come inside for coffee. He left, saying he would
stay in touch, and to call about any other problems.
7
Repairing of that large stretch of fence began that afternoon, and took the majority of two days. Everybody was called
on to help, except for Clare and Hannah, who stayed home with the baby, and Crane, who was the 'home-tender' as Hannah
called him. Whoever it was that stayed close by the house got the title.
It was the afternoon of the second day of repair, and everybody was hot and tired, and tempers were frayed. We had the
predictable injuries of barb wire cuts and sore muscles.
"Dibs on the bathtub when we get home," Guthrie announced to the group as a whole.
"No baths," Evan argued. "Five minute showers."
"I'm gonna soak in a hot bath," Guthrie insisted.
"Not if I get there ahead of you," Evan told him.
As we rode into our pasture near to the house, Jethro Bodine ran out to greet us, while Gus, older and slower,
walked more sedately.
From the spot where we all dismounted, and began to unsaddle our horses, I could see Fat Clarence on the porch,
sleeping undisturbed. I began to unsaddle Petra, hooking the stirrup over the saddle horn to uncinch it. I kept looking
around, expecting Warrior to come bounding up to greet us, too. He was always first, usually well ahead of Jethro Bodine.
Not today, though.
"What's wrong?" Brian asked me, walking past carrying his own saddle, and seeing me shade my eyes, looking all around.
"Just looking for Warrior," I said.
"He's around somewhere," Brian said, walking on past.
But, even when we were all done putting up our tack, and replacing the fencing supplies, Warrior still hadn't come
bouncing up.
Going inside, up the front steps, my brothers were all discussing, among other things, how hungry they were, and
how good a cold beer was going to taste. I paused in the middle of the yard, not following them.
Adam half-turned on the bottom step of the porch. "Come on in, sugar. Get yourself a snack. "
"I thought I'd look around for Warrior," I told him.
"In a bit. Come on and get something to eat first," he insisted.
I hesitated a moment longer, and then I sighed, and went into the house. I sat at the table with everybody else,
while we all ate sandwiches and fruit, and apple pie, and my brothers drank their cold beers.
I wasted no time after finishing my ham sandwich, and glass of milk. I stood up quickly. Too quickly, I guessed, because
I felt sort of dizzy for a minute. I stood, trying to still the room from spinning. And doing my best to keep from
letting anyone else notice.
Too late. Across the table, Crane looked at me.
"What's wrong?" he asked me.
I shook my head. "Nothing," I said.
"Sure?" he asked.
"Yeah. I just stood up too quick," I said, and smiled at him so he wouldn't worry and keep asking me about it.
By now Hannah had overheard us, and noticed. "You were out in the sun too long," she surmised.
"No. I'm fine," I said, and went out the back door before either of them could say anymore.
I hunted around the house, and behind all the out-buildings and barns, looking for Warrior, and calling his
name. Jethro Bodine came with me, staying beside me. I went out into the pasture, thinking that he might have
gone there to chase after the cattle. And later, while I was relieved that he hadn't been guilty of chasing our cattle, I
was still worried about where he'd gotten to.
Guthrie came out to meet me, and he went in other directions, helping me look.
Meeting up again, a half hour or so later, with no luck between us, Guthrie said, "He'll be along."
"He's always right around here though," I said.
It was getting close to dusk by now, and Adam came walking across the yard to Guthrie and I.
"No luck, huh?" he asked us, sounding regretful.
"No," I said.
"Your turn for the shower, Guthrie," Adam said. I realized then that Guthrie, even after his previous announcements, had
been out helping me look for Warrior instead of getting into the bathtub to soak his sore muscles.
"Thanks for helping me look, Guth," I told him.
"It's okay," Guthrie said. "He's just out hunting rabbits somewhere."
I nodded, but I didn't really believe that was true.
It occurred to me suddenly a couple of places that I hadn't searched.
"I'm gonna go look by the smokehouse," I told Adam, and would have stepped away.
"Let's leave it till morning," Adam said, and I paused, looking up at him. "It's been a long day. You need to get
a shower and some more food, and then get to bed."
"Yeah, but he should be back from wherever he went by now," I protested.
"He'll be along," Adam said. "By morning he'll likely be scratching on the back door, wanting some pancakes."
"Okay," I said, still reluctant to give up for the night.
"Come on," he said, and I followed him up the stairs and inside.
7
I took my shower, and then went downstairs again, finding the kitchen full of McFaddens.
There was a disagreement going on in the kitchen between Evan and Ford about Ford's upcoming job
at the print shop.
"All I'm saying is, those same guys are likely to be around town, and lookin' to cause trouble for you," Evan
pointed out.
"It'll be fine," Ford said quietly, going to the refrigerator to pull out the jug of milk.
"They'll be looking to kick your ass," Evan persisted.
I looked at Adam and Brian, but, while they were both obviously listening and paying attention to the conversation,
neither one of them spoke out.
"I can take care of myself," Ford said.
"Three against one? Those odds are bad, any way that you look at it," Evan said.
Ford pulled himself a glass of milk, silent. Evan lifted his hands as if to say 'what can I do?'
"Your brother's just tryin' to look out for you," Adam said, laying a hand on Ford's shoulder.
"I know that. And I appreciate it," Ford said.
I took the jug of milk from Ford's hand, and went to pour myself a glass, too. I took some crackers out of
the cabinet and munched on them, drinking my milk. After that, I set my half-empty glass on the counter, and went
thru the mudroom, opening the screen door and looking out. I could hear the barking of a dog, some distance away, from the
sound the it. I took one of the flashlights from the top shelf of the mudroom, and stepped outside, letting the screen door close behind
me. I was walking across the yard, the grass cool on my bare feet, shining the flashlight all around. Jethro Bodine and Gus both
came from the shadows to me. Fat Clarence, I knew, was asleep inside on the rug by the front door.
"Where's Warrior?" I asked Gus and Jethro, reaching out to scratch Gus's ear. "Where is he, huh?"
I was some distance from the house when I saw a larger light coming towards me, and I turned to shine my
flashlight over the person carrying that lantern.
"What are you doin' out here?" Brian asked me, sounding gruff.
"I thought I heard something," I said.
"Something like what?" he asked.
"A dog barking. From a ways off."
"Harlie," Brian said, with a sigh.
"Brian, something's wrong," I told him. "I know it."
"We'll get an early start in the mornin'. First thing. Alright?" he told me.
"What if he's caught in a trap or something?" I said.
I heard Brian sigh again, and then, though I couldn't make out the expression on his face in the darkness, I knew
he was getting impatient with me. I was ready for him to order me inside the house, when he lowered the lantern
to shine onto my bare feet.
"Get your boots," he said. "We can't go hunting for a wayward dog with you barefooted."
7