They were in the hog house and out within the allotted thirty minutes, hogs grunting and squealing in the cattle truck as it made its way back to the main road. Randy and Hart stayed behind to chase about fifty head of cattle across the ground to cover the truck tires, and then jogged to the truck.
“Next stop—Salt Holler and turnin’ these over to Wallace,” Eli said.
To get to Salt Holler, they had to cross a bridge that should have fallen down years ago and would in no way support a cattle truck. Besides, there was a gate with a padlock closing off the bridge. Eli parked on the far end and grew impatient with the wait after ten minutes.
“Where is he?” Randy asked.
“It’s only eleven fifteen,” Hart said. “Don’t go pissin’ your pants yet. Benediction ain’t over until smack up twelve o’clock. And if the preacher calls on Quaid Brennan to give it, it might last another ten minutes past that. He does love the sound of his own voice.”
Five minutes later, Wallace appeared at the other end of the bridge in an old beat-up pickup with a cage on the back. He was a big man with a bald head and wire-rimmed glasses. He came to the end of the bridge, unlocked the gate and threw it up, and then he held up one finger.
Fog settled around the bridge, giving it an eerie feeling. A freezing mist had started falling that morning. It reminded Hart of an old black-and-white movie about villains appearing in a fog. Wallace didn’t look like a machine-gun-toting gangster as he crossed arms as big as hams over his wide chest and waited. But something about his stance made him every bit as scary.
“What does that mean?” Eli asked.
“I reckon he wants one of us to meet him there. I’ll go,” Hart said.
He bailed out of the truck and stuck out his hand as he drew close to Wallace. “Hello, I’m…”
“That’ll be far enough, son, and I don’t need to know your name,” Wallace said in a deep voice. “Y’all boys get that truck turned around, and then set them pigs loose on this bridge. I’ll let my hog dogs out of the truck, and between them and my family, we’ll herd them hogs to where we want them. Y’all best keep quiet about this sale, because if the law comes snoopin’ around Salt Holler, it’s your face that I’m keepin’ in my head.”
One of Wallace’s front teeth was slightly longer than the other one. He didn’t blink, and his expression didn’t change a whit. Hart felt like he was standing before the devil on judgment day.
“That’s a narrow dirt road out there, sir. I’m not so sure we can turn the truck around,” Hart said.
“Little place a hun’erd yards backwards that you can nose into, and then back it up to the edge of the bridge. Time you get that done, my family and friends will be here to herd hogs. Once you open the truck gate, your job is done. Now you can get on back in your seats, and I’ll slap the side right hard when we get the last one out. That’s your signal to get the hell away from Salt Holler.”
Hart nodded.
“You be rememberin’ what I said, boy,” Wallace said. “And tell your granny that it was a pleasure doin’ business with her.”
“Yes, sir,” Hart said and jogged back to the truck, his cowboy boots sounding like they were beating on a snare drum with every step.
“What did he say?” Eli asked.
A cold shiver ran down Hart’s back when he relayed what Wallace had said. “I don’t think it’s only our cattle truck that isn’t allowed to cross that bridge. It’s anyone that doesn’t live in Salt Holler.”
“How do you reckon they intend to get all those hogs across that bridge?” Randy asked. “There’s got to be fifty or sixty back there.”
“It’s need to know, and we don’t,” Hart said.
Eli put the truck in reverse and watched his side mirrors until he saw the dirt pathway cutting off to the south. He carefully backed into it and then pulled out as if going back the way he came from. When he looked in his mirror again, people lined both sides of the bridge and Wallace waited at the end with a hand up in the air. When the hand went down, Eli applied the brakes.
Hart opened the door, and Wallace yelled, “Y’all boys stay on in the truck. Gates ain’t locked. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Hart slammed the door shut and waited. “This feels crazy, like a scary movie.”
“Granny knows what she’s doin’,” Randy said. “Them Brennans embarrassed us and caused a hell of a lot of damage to the ranch house at the Christmas party when they pulled that plate glass window right out of the wall. Had to replace the carpet and redo the whole damn room, and like to have never got them cows out of the house. We can put up with a scary movie long enough to get these hogs out of the truck.”
“Then we drive out to Mingus and get to eat at the Smokestack for supper. Lord, I love that food,” Eli said.
“But we will miss getting to meet Tyrell’s new woman when he brings her to supper. I’d love to see Quaid’s face when he loses his hogs and his woman both.” Randy laughed.
“We’ll go to Polly’s tomorrow night and see her. I hear she’s the barmaid there at night, and that Gladys’s new foreman is the grill cook.”
Wallace slammed the gates shut and rattled the side of the trailer. Eli shifted gears and pulled out.
“We did it,” Randy said. “We got our first assignment from Granny, and we did it.”
“Y’all know what we have done is felony larceny, don’t you?” Hart asked.
Randy slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be studyin’ law right now, Cousin. Just be a Gallagher.”
They were heading south on Interstate 35 when the church doors opened and kids poured out like puppies let out of a kennel to romp and play in the pasture.
* * *
After the last amen had been said, the Brennan family surrounded Jill, throwing out so many names that they all mixed together. No way would she remember any of them, except Kinsey, with the extra makeup on one cheek, and Quaid with a black eye and a cut across his nose. It was amazing that corn could do that to a big, strong man when it fell from a distance of six feet.
She spotted Sawyer’s black truck pulling out of the parking lot as she and Quaid made their way to his big white double-cab vehicle with an extra-long bed. She was in the process of snapping her seat belt when a bright red truck skidded to a stop right in front of her eyes. Tyrell blew her a kiss, held up five fingers, and then sped off toward the only paved road in Burnt Boot. She hadn’t seen a single sign to point her toward anything but a one-Sunday-stand for both of the feuding families.
“Hungry?” Quaid’s felt hat preceded him into the truck and found its place in the backseat. He strapped the seat belt in place and started up the engine.
“Starving,” she said.
“It’s a potluck, so there will be plenty.”
“You should have told me. I would have brought something. Your family will think I’m horrible, showing up empty-handed,” she said.
“My family will think that you are adorable. And guests aren’t expected to bring food. A heads-up though. Kinsey’s potato salad is fantastic, but Granny’s beet salad tastes like shit.” He laughed.
His laughter was as deep as his voice and downright sexy. His jeans were creased perfectly, his white shirt spotless, and his leather sports jacket fit his wide shoulders like a glove. Three years ago she would have stumbled over her own two feet to get him to ask her out.
Sawyer had told her to forget about the feud, the size of the ranches and bank accounts, and to focus on the man. There was not one thing wrong with Quaid so far. If he kissed as good as he looked, he’d be quite the catch, but there wasn’t a bit of zing, not a single spark or bit of fizzle between them.
“Penny for your thoughts.” He pulled out onto the road and turned right.
“Hundred dollar bills couldn’t buy them.” She smiled. “How far is it to River Bend?”
“River Ben
d is to your right, but it’s about three miles to the lane back to the main house. River Bend is a conglomerate of several ranches. We’ve already passed the road back to my land. Anytime you want a tour, I’ll be glad to give you one. I’ve got about a thousand acres.”
“How does that work?”
“The land from Fiddle Creek west for more than twenty miles belongs to the Gallagher families, and the whole thing makes up River Bend. Granny still lives in the main house with her youngest son, my uncle, and his family. That’s where we’re going for dinner today. Kinsey is my sister and has a part-time job as a paralegal in Gainesville, but she helps me out on my ranch too. I hate paperwork, so she takes care of that, and she’s good at it,” Quaid explained.
“And the whole family is going to be there today?” she asked.
“Everyone that took up our side of the church.” He smiled. “Just lookin’ over at you makes my heart jump around in my chest. You are gorgeous this morning, Jill. Your sweater is the same color as your mesmerizing eyes.”
It might not be the best pickup line she’d ever heard, but it wasn’t too bad, and he did seem sincere.
“And here we are.” He pulled the truck under a covered circular drive, handed the keys off to a short fellow in a heavy coat and a cowboy hat, and hurried around the front of the truck to open the door for her. The guy didn’t look like a butler or a valet, but evidently he was serving as both, because he opened the double front doors for them when they crossed the wide veranda.
“I’ll put it close by, Mr. Quaid,” he said before he trotted back to the truck. A glance over her shoulder showed that the pasture beside the house was filled with vehicles of one kind or other, with the majority going toward trucks.
Quaid ushered her inside with a hand on her lower back, helped her remove her coat before he took his off, and handed both to an older woman who said, “Welcome to River Bend, Miz Jill. We’re glad to have you here. I’m Rita, one of the housekeepers.”
Double doors were opened into a massive room to the right where people had already gathered. The aroma of food mingled with scented candles in the middle of at least a dozen round tables with snowy white cloths. A potluck, her ass, this was a full-fledged party, even if there was every kind of food imaginable lined up on tables over there against the wall.
A tall woman with black hair and eyes almost that dark crossed the room and held out her hand to Jill. “I’m Mavis Brennan. Welcome to our little place. You should have brought Gladys with you. She and I go way back.”
“Thank you. Aunt Gladys is going back to the hospital to stay with Aunt Polly. I’ll tell her that you asked about her,” Jill said. “You have a lovely home. Everything looks and smells wonderful.”
Mavis nodded. “I love it when I can gather them all home, even if it’s only for dinner. Declan, darlin’, come meet Jill. This is Declan, my grandson. He and Leah live here with me. And please give my best to Polly. We’ll be praying that she gets along all right with this ankle. At our age, we don’t heal like you young folks do.”
Declan nodded and said something about being pleased to meet her, and then he was gone.
Quaid’s arm slipped possessively around Jill’s shoulders. “I think it’s almost time to eat. We have a place at the head table with Granny.”
“Yes, you do. I want you to sit right beside me. You tell Polly to do what they say, because if you ever sit down at our age, you wind up moldin’ and dyin’. We’ll hope to see you often here at River Bend.” Mavis smiled. “I hear you are working at the bar and the store while she’s out of commission. I’m sure you’ll see lots of Quaid at Polly’s. My husband’s old granddaddy would have had a fit if he’d known one of his kin was in a bar, but times are changing.”
Quaid tapped a water glass with a knife, and the whole room went silent. “Granny, will you say grace?”
“I’m going to ask Declan to do that for us today,” she said.
Declan bowed his head, but Jill caught the look on his face and the way he rolled his eyes before he closed them. So the Brennan family had a black sheep, and its name was Declan.
With his hand on her lower back, Quaid steered her toward the table with Mavis and half a dozen other family members. Seated between Quaid and Mavis, she felt like a heifer at the county fair. All eyes were on her, and she was expected to perform well so she’d win the big trophy and a bunch of blue ribbons.
“Jill, this is my uncle Russell. He’s Leah and Declan’s father, and they live here in the big house with Granny,” Quaid said.
Jill smiled and nodded at them. “Pleased to meet you all.”
Like Sawyer told her, she assigned animals to each face. She couldn’t think of a single animal that Mavis would resemble, with her height, her round face and thick neck, blue eyes, and black hair right out of a beauty shop bottle. She didn’t need to, because Mavis wore confidence as well as she did that tailor-made royal-blue suit and that sparkly set of wedding rings that would rival the crown jewels. She’d never forget her name.
A tall, lanky kid that hadn’t grown into his height made his way from the back of the room to their table and whispered in Mavis’s ear. She turned scarlet and slapped the table with such force that the water glasses shook.
“She’s gone too damned far,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Grandma?” Quaid said softly.
“My hogs are gone. They vanished in the damned air while we were in church this morning. Every single one of them.” Every word got louder, until she was yelling at the end and the whole room went silent.
“Maybe they got out and they’re runnin’ around on the ranch,” Quaid said.
The kid shook his head. “Daddy said to tell Miz Mavis that we checked the whole place. There isn’t a single gate open or break in the fence. There’s not even any hog footprints around the place showin’ where they got out. All we got is cattle prints. It’s like they grew wings and flew.”
Mavis was on her feet. “Russell?”
He was already pushing back his chair when he said, “You going with me, Mama?”
“Yes, I am. You will all excuse us. Please finish your food and enjoy the afternoon.” Mavis didn’t even try to lower her voice as she and Russell stormed out of the room. “That damned Naomi Gallagher will pay for this. She did it while we were all in church and the ranch was unprotected. Dammit all to hell! Well, as of right now, we’ll be standin’ guard, and she’d better watch out, because I’m not takin’ this layin’ down.”
“Is she going to be all right?” Jill asked.
“She will be,” Quaid said. “The Gallaghers shouldn’t have messed with her pigs. She doesn’t trust anyone to take care of them but Adam and his daddy. They know pigs better than anyone in these parts, except for those folks who live down in Salt Holler. Granny hates store-bought meat with a passion.”
“This is personal, and Naomi is in deep shit,” Kinsey said from the far end of the table. “Grandma is liable to jerk every hair out of Naomi’s head when she confronts her.”
“Dear God,” Quaid groaned. “I’d best go make sure Uncle Russell can handle them both. I hate to do this, Jill, but…”
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“This is not the way I expected our first date to go. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he said.
She laid her napkin on the table and stood up. “No problem.”
Quaid made a phone call on his way to collect their jackets, and the truck was waiting in front of the door when they arrived.
Mavis shook her head and her finger at the same time. “What in the hell are you doin’ here? You’ve got a date.”
“Where are you going?” Quaid asked.
“I’m going to shoot Naomi Gallagher,” Mavis said.
“Then I’m going to keep you out of jail.”
“How can you do that? You aren’t a lawyer.
I’d do better with Kinsey.” Mavis buckled the seat belt and crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
“Well, you’ve got me,” Quaid said.
Russell turned to his nephew. “One of the others can go. You’ve got plans.”
“I’m the one who’s here. We need any more help, someone will be there in ten minutes,” Quaid said.
Russell nodded. “Sorry about this, Jill. You’ll have to come back another time. Let’s go see if we can straighten this out. She’s liable to have a stroke and really shoot Naomi if she finds out for sure that she’s behind this.”
“Why would your grandma think the Gallaghers stole her hogs?” Jill asked as she settled into the passenger’s seat and Quaid started the engine.
“It’s a long story. Our families have feuded for more than a hundred years.”
She pretended to not know anything. “Like the Hatfields and McCoys?”
He nodded. “Modern day. So far none of us have murdered each other, but it might be comin’ if Naomi stole Grandma’s pigs.”
“Why would she do that, anyway, if she does turn out to be the thief? And, besides, wasn’t she in church this morning? How could a little old lady do that?”
Quaid’s jaw worked like he was chewing bubble gum. “She wouldn’t, but her family would. This is horrible. We shouldn’t be following Grandma out to Wild Horse Ranch to confront Naomi on our first date.”
First date, hell. It was their last date. She didn’t want to be mixed up in any of this shit. To top it all off, she’d be there with Quaid, with all appearances saying she was supporting the Brennans, and she had a supper date with Tyrell Gallagher. She couldn’t wait to get home and tell Sawyer all about it. Come to think of it, he was at the Gallaghers right now, having dinner with them. Did that mean they were on opposing teams?
The Trouble with Texas Cowboys Page 6
