Amateur Hour

“Where were you?” Tuck demanded.

The unexpected sound of his voice spooked Polly enough for the mare’s front feet to leave the ground. Lisa managed to hang on, and settle her.

“Nice going, Deputy,” she scowled.

“Sorry,” he said, more quietly. “I was just worried. The house won’t let me in, of course. I called for you, and pounded on the door. I was just getting ready to go around to the back.”

“I found a path, to another homestead. But, more importantly, I found Caroline. I’ll tell you about it, on the way home.”

“Show me.”

“It’s getting late, and we have places to go and pastors to annoy.”

“We can reschedule,” shrugged the man who had wanted to marry her, this morning, before the ink on the license was dry.

Lisa cast an uneasy look at the sky. The sun would be setting, soon. Still, she couldn’t blame him for wanting to see the grave, for himself.

*******

Noah lay as still as he could. Watching, listening, he knew this might be his last chance… Lately, he had found himself repeatedly snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. It could not happen again.

*******

She led the way to the back of the house, where Gil decided he’d had enough for a while. Tuck chuckled, as the big brown dog climbed the back steps, and sank to the boards of the porch.

“Looks like he’s done,” Tuck observed. “Why did you bring him?”

“He didn’t ask. He just followed me,” Lisa shrugged.

“We can collect him, on the way back, I reckon.”

“I suppose. The bridle path is back here.”

They reached the cabin in less time that it had taken Lisa to get there, the first time. She led the way, and set Polly into a canter, knowing the path was clear of obstacles. Tuck followed a length behind.

“What a mess!” Tuck declared, pulling up beside her.

He looked more chagrined than he should have, in Lisa’s opinion. Lisa looked at the ruin of the cabin again. How had she missed the fact that it had burned? She supposed it was because she hadn’t actually gone poking around the cabin, itself.

“Lightning…” she said.

“Probably,” Tuck agreed. “It’s as likely as anything else. Where’s this family plot?”

“Over here.” Lisa led the way, then dismounted, looping Polly’s reins around a spoke in the wagon wheel, as she had done before. Tuck followed suit, then trailed at her elbow, as she walked into the tiny, fenced off space. She stood back, to allow him to examine the stones, wishing he would hurry. The sun had set, and it was getting dark.

“The one at the end,” she said. “It’s at ground level.”

“Oh. Yeah…” He knelt by the stone, as if to get a closer look, and traced the letters. “It’s a nice one, isn’t it? Caroline…of course you’d want to be with your babies. I should have known.”

The voice had waxed tender. The drawl had become more pronounced. Lisa inched closer to the place where the gate had been.

“We should go, Tuck. It’s getting dark.”

“It is,” he agreed, rising to stand. He was smiling, and the gathering dusk made hollow, dark sockets of his eyes.

Lisa turned, and walked toward Polly. She wouldn’t run, she told herself. If she ran, he’d be on her, like a…like a rabid coyote.

By the time she was in the saddle, he had reached Buckshot, tied on the other side of the wheel. The mare sidled away from him, when he reached for the rein, then proceeded to pull and snort, when she was untied. She knew, Lisa realized. She knew this wasn’t her man, even as Nickie had known, the first time.

Tuck let out a stream of growled curses, and did something then, that shocked Lisa to the marrow of her bones. He worked his way closer to Buckshot’s head, and began to lash at her face and neck with the leather rein in his hand. It was cruel—sickeningly vicious. Buckshot could only bear it, as he had full control of her head.

“Tuck—stop it!” she screamed. It wasn’t Tuck, of course, but she didn’t want to say Noah’s name.

To her astonishment, he did, trying instead to approach the saddle. Buckshot was having none of it, dancing out of his way to evade him, each time he got close, even going so far as to try to bite him.

Lisa had seen enough. So had Polly, evidently, because the thoroughbred broke into a run, the moment Lisa turned her head toward the trail. Seconds later, Lisa heard Buckshot behind her, and she looked over her shoulder. Tuck had managed to mount, somehow, and was thundering after her. He began to shout her name, between threats and imprecations.

She leaned forward, and gave Polly full rein. The mare had more to give, it turned out, and it was the closest Lisa had ever come to flying, without the benefit of a seat in coach. She could hear Buckshot gaining, however. She’d have to slow Polly, when she reached the house. It was twilight, now, and she didn’t know what might be lurking on the ground to trip her mount up. A fall could kill them both.

She spared another glance back. Buckshot was gaining, because she was riderless. Lisa straightened, and began to pull Polly in. The horse slowed, ever obedient to her rider, to a canter; a trot; a walk. She was blowing hard, when they reached the kitchen building.

Buckshot slowed, on her own, and Lisa maneuvered Polly to block her from trotting past. Her reins were dangling, and Lisa had the presence of mind, just, to realize that she could step on one and hurt herself. At the same time, she could hear Tuck bellowing her name, from farther back.

Speaking to the spooked horse, trying to sound soothing and calm, Lisa snagged Buckshot’s reins, and led her toward the house, at a brisk walk. Of course, Gil went ballistic, at the sight of them, adding to the confusion.

“Hush, Gil,” she remonstrated. Gil subsided to an anxious whine, and paced in front of the door.

Her first thought was to ride on. Gil would follow her. But it was nearly dark, now. Could she safely navigate her way home, ponying Buckshot, for that long a distance? She could leave Buckshot, but who would follow her back home, mounted on her—Tuck, or Noah?

The house occurred to her, as a possible refuge, and she dismissed it, almost as quickly. Tuck might not be able to get in—not right away, but when he did gain access, she would be trapped. He would gain access. Noah had, somehow. Margaret and Kitty had had guns, but Lisa didn’t even have her pepper spray.

No, she would have to try to get home. He was closer, now, though he was running out of steam. She could hear it, in his voice.

“Come, Gillie,” she called, and continued to the front of the house. Tuck appeared at the corner, even as she gained the drive. He was played out and panting. Lisa spurred Polly to a trot and chirruped to Buckshot, at the same time. In a moment, they were far down the drive, and Tuck was merely a large, indistinct shape, in the deepening night.

*********

It wasn’t as dark as Lisa had feared it would be. The moon was waxing gibbous, and cast more cold, hard light than she would have imagined, though it was still fairly low in the sky. The Old Road was visible enough, but it took her more than three passes to find the right break in the trees, for the connecting trail.

Her nerves were ready to snap, every time she had to turn around to head back toward the Lovejoy house. She expected each time to see Noah, in the guise of Tuck, walking toward her. When she finally found what she was looking for, she was near frantic tears.

She entered the clearing, just as Will plunged in, on Rocket. Lisa bit off a startled scream, and Polly reared, nearly dumping her, this time.

“Steady, Polly. Easy, girl,” Will soothed. “Easy, now. It’s just me. Is he hurt?” Will demanded, nodding toward Tuck’s horse.

Somehow, Lisa had maintained her death grip, on Buckshot’s reins, while holding onto Polly when she reared.

“No. Just really tired,” she replied, then dissolved into tears.

Will relaxed a little, and reached out for Buckshot’s reins. Lisa handed them over, with a hand that shook.

“Take a deep breath, and tell me,” he said.

Lisa took several, then related the tale. Will listened without interrupting her. By the time she was finished, she felt much calmer, but she did keep looking over her shoulder.

“He’s not hurt at all, then. Just afoot.”

Lisa nodded.

“Let’s get you home. He’ll straggle in, when he straggles in.” He put Rocket in motion, and the rest followed, out of long habit.

“What if it’s not…him?”

“I don’t know, yet.”

******************

At the barn, Will all but leaped off Rocket’s back, and began to unfasten her saddle.

“Make sure they’re all cool would you?” he asked Lisa. Then start on saddles. Just unfasten them,” he said, dragging Rocket’s saddle from her back.

Lisa did as she was asked. She had unstrapped Buckshot and was beginning on Polly, when he returned.

“They’re all cool,” she told him.

Will merely nodded and led the other two animals into the barn. He was back, in short order.

“Just put her in her stall, and hurry straight to the house,” Will instructed her, grabbing the last saddle. “We’ll worry about blankets, in a bit. Go on,” he prodded, when she hesitated. “I’m right behind you.”

**************

Will arrived moments after she did, locking and dead-bolting the door behind him. He disappeared, after that, leaving Lisa to explain everything to Toni.

“Babe, I’m gonna need two of the battery lanterns, that half used can of kerosene, and some kitchen matches. Better make it a whole box, if we’ve got ‘em.” he said, when he came back.

Toni went off to get the things, but Lisa could only stare at the pump action shotgun, and the two boxes of shells, in horror and disbelief.

“Will—“ she began.

“Take a load off, Lisa. You look like you’re about to fall down.”

She sank into a chair, and he sat, too, squaring the boxes up in front of him. She watched as he selected a shell, from the first box.

“This should get his attention,” Will said, loading it. “This one should persuade him I’m in earnest.” He winked at her, then loaded the white cartridge into the weapon. But, there was no humor in his face, at all. “And two more of these, if things go really bad.” He loaded two more red ones.

“In God’s name, Will! You can’t mean to shoot him!”

“But, I do. If you want to bring God into it, Lisa, well…there’s a special place in hell for men who don’t look after their families.”

“He’s unarmed!”

“You sure about that? Have you ever known him to be unarmed?”

“He could have shot me, if he’d had a gun.”

“If you think shooting someone on horseback is easy, you’ve seen too many movies. It takes lots of practice. Now, Pa is an expert rider—I’ve never seen him come off a horse. And, he is a sharpshooter, but not on horseback. Noah couldn’t even hang onto the horse, let alone shoot at anything and expect to hit it. With both feet on the ground? I’m not risking it.”

Toni reentered the kitchen with two lanterns dangling from one hand, and a gallon sized metal can, in the other. The sight of the shotgun made her pause, then she set the things on the table, and examined the cartridge boxes.

“How many of these?” she asked, holding up the last box he’d pulled the most shells from.

“Three. I really don’t think I’ll need ’em all. Matches, honey?”

“Right.” Toni turned and opened a kitchen drawer, pulling out a fresh box. Will stowed them in the pocket of the jacket he hadn’t bothered to take off.

“Toni— You can’t be okay with this!”

“I think I am. Will’s a good shot. You look like you could use a drink, Lisa.”

“You’ve both lost your minds!”

“No, but I’m sure it seems that way.” Toni offered her a small, sympathetic smile. “Trust me. You’ll get it. How about that drink? We have a little rum left over, from Christmas.”

“I do not want a drink.”

“I’ll take a glass of tea, Babe,” Will said. “And Lisa is bound to be parched. Get her the rum, with an iced tea chaser,” he smiled at his wife. “I suggest you drink both. You’re a wreck,” he said to Lisa. His tone was once again impersonal, borderline disapproving, when he addressed her.

Lisa downed the rum in three swallows, largely because Toni withheld the tea, until she did so.

“It would have tasted better in the tea,” Toni observed, when Lisa made a face. “But, you need the liquor now, I think. Consider it medicine.”

She had to admit to herself, after the initial burn, that she did feel better, for it.

Will took a sip from his glass, then rose from the table and took it and the shotgun with him. Lisa heard the front door open and close again. She tried to get up, too, but Toni stopped her, with a firm hand on her shoulder.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Leave this to Will.”

A minute passed. Two. Then, they heard the unmistakable sound of a slide being racked. Lisa was out of her chair and across the living room before Toni could stop her. She opened the door just in time to see the muzzle flash and hear the roar, as Tuck’s goose down jacket exploded, and he fell backward.

Lisa shrieked, and flew at Will, but he shook her off as if she weighed no more than the down floating in the air. The ringing in her ears seemed to go on, forever, then she heard Will say, in a cold, implacable tone, something incredible.

“Get up,” he told the supine figure, just beyond the foot of the steps.

The figure complied, looking stunned, and Lisa could see several tiny pellets of bird shot lodged in his face and neck.

“That was my last bird shot shell.” Will pumped the shotgun, as if for emphasis. The empty plastic shell fell to the floor of the porch. “All I have left is double aught buck. Are we on the same page?”

Tuck nodded.

“Good. Get in the back of the truck. Toni,” he said, without turning, “bring me the rest of the stuff off the table, won’t you? Lisa, you can put it in the passenger side, when she brings it. Go around the front of the truck, not the back. Then, go back inside.”

“I’m coming with you,” Lisa said, through chattering teeth.

“If you want. But, if I have to shoot him again, it won’t be pretty. You sure you want to subject yourself to that?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Get your coat, then.”

Lisa cast a despairing glance at each of the men, then ducked back inside. When she came back, Tuck was seated in the bed of the truck. His head was down in an attitude that could only be described as docile.

****************************

The ride to the church passed in silence. Will turned into the driveway, and followed the asphalt to where it ended on the road to the cemetery, and around the back. He pulled up near the Lovejoy plot and got out, shotgun in hand. “Never mind the lanterns, Lisa. It’s bright enough,” he remarked, before closing his door.

It was. The Lovejoy graves were near the arc sodium lights that illuminated various parts of the church grounds.

“Get out, and bring the shovel with you,” Will directed his captive.

Tuck obeyed, climbing over the tailgate, and reaching in to get the shovel afterward. Without being told, he headed for the soft ground where Noah’s bones had been buried, and began to dig.

***********************

Tucker Rawlings concentrated on making his mind a complete blank. Each time an independent thought threatened, he squelched it with the commands he had been given so far. He counted shovelfuls of dirt. He focused, sometimes, on the sting of the pellets that had struck him. This became easier, as perspiration rolled down into the raw parts of his skin. He allowed no emotions, however—only sensations.

It didn’t take long to unearth the box, but it took a great deal of effort to get it out of the hole, under Will’s hard, pitiless gaze. At last it was done.

“Tote it to the truck, drop the tailgate, put it in the bed, and get in. Sit just like you did, last time— with your back against the utility box. Lisa, you can close the gate. If he moves, he’s perforated.”

Lisa was not happy about any of this, he could see. Tuck shoved that thought away, too. Lisa was a weakness. Best not to think of her.

**************

Lisa was puzzled when Will bypassed the driveway to the house, and drove about a quarter of a mile farther. She was flabbergasted, when he slowed to a crawl, suddenly cut the wheel to the left, and climbed into and out of a shallow ditch, ascending the sides of it, gradually, until the truck was on level ground again.

In a moment, she realized where they must be; this was the other end of the Old Road. She knew she was right, when the terrain and trees started to look familiar, even in the truck’s headlights.

“Slow down, Will. It’s just up here,” she volunteered.

He obliged, but he still had to back the vehicle a bit, and swing wide, to make the turn between the brick pillars. It was tight, but they made it through with about a foot’s worth of clearance on either side.

The long drive proved no problem, but for a moment, Will looked unsure, when he pulled up in front of the house.

“Is one side better than the other?” he asked Lisa.

“Neither one is good, for a vehicle,” she answered.

“I guess we walk from here, then.” He put the truck into ‘park’, and turned off the engine and the lights. To her surprise, he handed her the keys. “I think you should stay here. It’s cold, and it sounds like a long walk, from the way you described it.”

“No. I’m going.”

“If you do, and he goes all Noah again, I might have to shoot him, for real.”

“That’s not real bird shot in his face and neck, right now? If he dies…well…that wouldn’t work out badly for you, would it?”

She saw that shot hit home. There was a momentary crack in Will’s facade, as his face registered his shock. The mask fell back into place, though, as quickly as it had slipped.

“I’d be in prison, for murder.”

“Only if there was a witness, though, right? Otherwise, you and Toni would inherit–”

“Suit yourself,” he cut her off. “You can carry the lanterns. I’ll take the kerosene.”

He got out of the truck, with his gun, and slammed the door. She knew he wasn’t likely to forget her hypothetical, any time soon. It truth, she had been aghast, to hear herself say it. Yet, what was she to think? He’d been so unlike himself, since he’d come in from the barn.

She followed, grabbing the lanterns and the metal can.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to carry that box,” Will informed his hostage.

“I can do that,” Tuck replied, in a mild tone.

From the four words alone, Lisa could tell that it was, indeed, Tuck. It was his voice, his inflection. Yet, he wouldn’t look at her; seemed to be making a point of not seeing her, or acknowledging her, in any way.

“Let me help him, Will. We can make do, with one lantern. And someone has to carry the shovel, too.”

Will considered it, as he put the can into his jacket and zipped it closed. “All right. Just remember,” he stared stonily at Tuck, “as weapons go, a shovel is no match for a shotgun. Flinch, and your head is hamburger. Turn on that lantern, Lisa, and let’s get this over with.”

The box was heavy, and the road seemed endless Will called two rest breaks, along the way, but Lisa was just about at the end of her strength, by the time they got to the burial plot. Tuck, despite his superficial wounds, held up much better.

“Find a place to sit, Lisa,” Will said, not unkindly. “You, too, if you need to,” he added to Tuck.

Tuck shook his head. “I just need to catch my breath,” he replied, leaning on the shovel.

“You won’t have to dig too deep. Just enough so that the top of the box will be at ground level. Take your time. Stop when you need to.”

Tuck dug for about thirty minutes, without a pause, before Will called a halt to it.

“Not deep enough,” Tuck advised, a bit winded.

“It will be. Take the cover off the box, and drop the box in. Lisa, douse it, with the kerosene.”

She got wearily to her feet, staggered a little, then secured the can. She had to unzip Will, to do it. For a moment, she was tempted to leave his jacket hanging open, but she didn’t. The cap was a bit tight, but she worked it loose. “All of it?” she asked.

“Leave a smidge in the bottom. That way, we won’t have to stand too close.”

The oily reek of the fuel roiled her empty stomach, and she nearly gagged, as she dumped most of the can’s contents onto Noah’s bones. Finally, she dribbled the last bit onto the ground, in Will’s direction. They all stood clear, and Will handed Tuck the box of matches.

“You need to be the one,” he said.

Tuck didn’t hesitate. He went to one knee and struck the first match, setting off a little trail of flame that blazed like a miniature hell, when it reached the hole. He sat down, to watch it burn.

Will didn’t stop Lisa, when she walked over to sit next to him. Tuck didn’t say anything, either, but he did put his arm around her.

When the flames were down to mere embers, they all gathered around the hole and peered in. There was very little wood left, and the bones had been reduced to ash, for the most part.

“I reckon that’ll do it,” Will said. He picked up the lid, and dropped on top of the smoldering hole. Tuck covered it, and tamped it down with the flat part of the shovel. Then, he drove it into the ground at the place where a marker would have been.

The trio made their way slowly back to the house. There wasn’t any conversation. Everyone was too tired for it. Lisa felt like she had been beaten with a club. She could only imagine how Tuck felt.

“I hope this means I can ride up front,” Tuck said, when they went up the side of the house. “By the way, Jethro, I hope you have enough in your piggy bank for a new, ethically sourced goose down jacket. Size medium,” he added.

“I’d like to believe it’s all over,” Will replied.

Lisa looked at his face. It was strained and tired.

“Tuck, would you do something, for me?” she asked.

“Anything.”

“Go up on the porch, and open the front door, would you?”

A slow grin spread across his weary face.

“Good idea.”

“How so?” Will frowned.

“Noah can’t open the doors to this house.”

“Oh, right.”

They watched Tuck climb the steps and approach the door. He hesitated, then grasped the knob. The door swung open. After a pause, he closed it softly, and came back down the steps.

“Guess I won’t be needing these, then.” Will swung the muzzle of the gun away, and cycled the rest of the rounds through the chamber.

Tuck cocked his head, at the small scatter of full shells. “Rock salt? Seriously?” he bent to pick up the white shell.

“In case I had to perform a shotgun exorcism. Noah was a coward, after all.”

“Guess he wasn’t a poker player, either,” Tuck smiled, then grimaced at the sting in his face. “You used the bird shot you loaded yourself, for nuisance critters, didn’t you?”

“Of course.” Will turned to Lisa. “It was important that you believed it,” he said. “I had to sell it to you, if I was going to sell it to Noah.”

Lisa nodded. She dug the keys out of her pocket, and handed them to him. “Can we go, now?”