by Larry Brown
“Well, he looked like he could use some help.”
“Canady said you charged the hill like it was Iwo Jima.”
“Not much of a charge. I don’t run so well anymore,” Harry said smiling.
Al Johnson who had spent a fair amount of time with Harry while he was doing his new book research looked at Hardaway with his most serious face and said, “Clay I think you’re going to have to consider deputizing Harry.”
Hardaway reaction was incredulous and said, “No, the only thing I am going to consider is retiring you. I think you are both turning senile.”
Then all three men laughed out loud.
Chapter 20
Harry was finally alone. Clay had finished up the initial paperwork and was gone. A few neighbors had dropped by to find out what had happened. A couple of them weren’t happy that Harry was attracting such violence to their once quiet street.
He had called Ed Tuttle to get him started on the extensive repairs on his house. Broken glass at the four entry points of the gang, plus where he had fired his shotgun on the porch. Then there was their revolver fire that had damaged the door facing and sheetrock damage. It was a widespread mess. Thank goodness he had somebody like Ed who would know exactly what to do.
Harry showered but didn’t dress. It was 8:15 am and he lay down across his bed and went immediately to sleep. He was dreaming about Maggie and Belle when his ringing phone woke him. It was Clay wanting to know if he had forgotten to come by and verify the statement they had put together and sign it. Harry said of course not, why what’s the time? When Clay told him it was 2:30 pm, Harry couldn’t believe how long he had slept.
An hour later Harry arrived at Clay’s office, “Did y’all get the other two?”
“Not yet, disappeared like ghosts.”
Clay, Al, and Harry went carefully over the write-up. When they finished, Clay said, “I need to tell you something, Harry.”
“And I need to ask you something,” Harry replied.
Clay nodded at Al, and he excused himself. “You first Harry.”
“I’ve gotten myself in somewhat a predicament Clay. I am going to meet Andy at the farm Sunday after church, and she is pressing me pretty hard to speak at some women’s group. Can you tell me what kind of group she’s involved with?”
“Not really, we don’t get involved with each other’s day to day lives. I really can’t say Harry, but what’s your concern?”
“I’m afraid it’s some kind of women’s movement, something political and I am the wrong person for that. I know she’s your sister, but I’m not sure that she’s maybe a little more left-leaning.”
Clay grinned, “Well I’m sure it will be fine, but that’s all I can offer.” Clay was trying to contain his grin thinking Andy had got ole Harry again.
“I don’t know,” Harry said and added, “What subject did you want to discuss with me?”
Clay closed the door to his office. “Harry, I had a visitor this morning. Roscoe Abernathy, who is a black attorney and head of the NAACP in our county, came here and blew my mind. He asked me if I would call you in and question you about Maggie’s murder. He said he is representing the families of the two boys you killed. He said when he heard about the shots to their faces, he was disturbed. He said they believe maybe you hired the two boys to kill your wife and then murdered them to keep them from talking.”
“Clay, that’s pure bullshit!”
“I know, but listen, there’s more to this story. Roscoe has decided he may run for the US Senate. He tells me this kind of story could be good for my re-election and would be a terrific way for him to kick off his campaign.”
“That son of a bitch!”
“I refused him of course and did my best to discourage him, but he is probably going to call you and ask you to meet him and discuss his theory.”
“Meet with him, yeah I’ll meet with him and my double barrel.”
“Harry, Harry, don’t do anything foolish.”
“Oh, I won’t but the gall of that jerk.”
“Consider the source and circumstances, Harry; maybe it could be an idea for a book.”
“No thanks, that’s a little close to home.”
“Be careful how you handle yourself; he can get a lot of attention, and he is one slick dude.”
“Thanks, Clay I’ll try to control myself.”
As Harry was leaving, Clay said, “I hope you and Andy have a good time, and Harry, Remember she’s just a harmless female.”
“There’s no such thing,” Harry said as he left.
When Harry walked into his kitchen on his return home, his phone was ringing. Harry answered.
“Mr. Blake my name is Roscoe Abernathy. I’m sure you have probably heard of me.”
Harry thought, What arrogance.
“No, I don’t believe we have met nor do I remember ever hearing of you. Listen, if you’re selling something, I don’t buy over the phone.”
“Mr. Blake I am not a salesman. I am an attorney, plus I am in charge of the NAACP in Polk County.”
“Look Roscoe, whatever your name is, I don’t make contributions over the phone either.”
“Mr. Blake, please. I am not calling for a contribution. I’m calling because I represent the families of the two boys you recently murdered.”
Before he could continue, Harry interrupted, “Hold on Roscoe, are you talking about the two assholes that broke into my house and killed my wife and dog? Are those the two jackasses whose family you represent? It’s too late for a call to apologize. I am sure there could be no other reason for this call.”
“You are a vulgar man, Mr. Blake. There is a theory that you might have paid these boys to do what they did and then killed them to keep them quiet. I want you to come into my office and discuss this matter. And by the way, I am about to announce my candidacy for the US Senate, and I will most certainly be in the spotlight. I think it would be in your best interest to come in and speak with me. We might even work out something for you to join my team as a supporter, which is if you can convince me that this allegation against you is untrue. What do you say?”
Harry sat silently for a moment and then responded in the kindest softest voice he could muster, “Roscoe, I want you to listen carefully. I will never under any circumstances meet with you. As far as publicity is concerned, a mini-series of my first two books is about to be released, and I too will be getting a lot of publicity, but I suspect you already know that. I’ll make you a promise; if you pursue this, I will oppose you on every front. I have reasonable resources, and I will use them to support your opposition. I will go on the trail with your opponent and speak against you. I will inform every news outlet that will listen about your offer to me. I hope you have heard what I said. Roscoe, you do not want me as your enemy. Do you understand?”
“Mr. Blake, that sounds like a threat.”
“Take it as you will and act according to your conscience if you have one. And, never contact me again.”
Harry hung up hoping it was the last he would ever hear from Roscoe Abernathy. Instead of concern, he was now looking forward to an afternoon with Andy.
Chapter 21
It was Sunday morning, and Harry slept later than usual. He just didn’t snap back the way he used to. He slept well and long, but he was still tired. He decided he would skip church, watch his favorite TV preacher, and hope the good Lord would understand this morning.
At noon he grabbed a bottle of Tavel, not for the lamb stew, but maybe to introduce Andy to good rosé if she was like her brother. The ride up the lake was beautiful, but it didn’t stop Harry from worrying about this women’s group and how he was going to avoid a problem with Andy gracefully. In spite of that, he found himself a little apprehensive about spending time with such a lovely woman. He had to tell himself to stop being so nervous. This afternoon should be fun.
When Harry arrived, the wooden front door was open, and only the screen door separated Harry from the inside. He knocked and calle
d out to Andy at the same time.
“Harry, you are early, come on in, I’m in the kitchen.”
Harry looked at his watch and realized he was indeed 15 minutes early. He let himself in and went to the kitchen. She was at the stove stirring a big pot that obviously by the aroma, was the leftover lamb. When Harry saw her, he stopped and just stared. Again she was in well-fitting jeans, boots and a blue satin western style blouse. When she turned and smiled at him, he saw the first three buttons of her blouse unbuttoned, revealing her golden-freckled chest. His first thought was, Oh, to be sixty again.
“Don’t just stand there Harry, come on in. Come over here and check out the stew.”
He walked toward her, and she turned to face him, held out her arms and embraced him. He stood motionless for a moment and then returned the embrace. His heart rate jumped a notch when she turned and kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m so glad to see you, Harry. Thank you for coming.”
“My pleasure, I’m looking forward to the lamb and the tour.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to spending time with you and getting to know you better.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond, but he wished he had said that to her.
“Me too, and I brought a bottle of rosé. I introduced this to Clay a while back. He thought all pink wines were sweet and for little old ladies.”
“He told me about that. I can’t wait to taste it. Can we open it?”
“It’s yours now; you can do anything you want.”
“Let me get the corkscrew, here, you stir the lamb.”
She opened the bottle and poured two glasses while Harry stopped his stirring and put a lid on the bubbling pot.
She handed Harry a glass, and she made a toast, “To a long friendship, Harry.”
“I couldn’t have said it better,” he said wishing he could have thought of something better to add. For some reason, he was having a hard time expressing himself with Andy. Maybe it was those green eyes or the tan face with dark freckles or…what the hell was wrong with him.
“What are you thinking about Harry, I can see your wheels turning?”
“Me, oh, nothing, uh, I think the lamb is ready, and I’m starving.”
She smiled a gotcha smile and said, “Okay, let’s eat.”
Harry turned away from her and took two steps toward the kitchen window, “Beautiful day.”
Dadgum that woman, she’s starting to read me. Lord, she looks good.
They made small talk while they ate and as they were finishing, she said, “Harry, can we talk about my women’s group now?”
Harry picked up his wine glass and was savoring the final sip trying to decide how to respond.
“How about the tour first and we talk about that later. I’ve been looking forward to seeing all you have.”
She looked at him with a crooked little smile and said, “Okay, let’s go, and I’ll show you what I have.”
Harry realized there might have been a further meaning to what he said and hoped she had not taken it the wrong way. He smiled, and she led him out of the house toward the barn where they had met for the first time.
When they entered the barn, Harry was immediately impressed. It was neat, organized and everything smelled of fresh hay and animals. There was an office on the left and a tack room on the right. There were five stalls on the left and four on the right. There was a storage area on the other end on the right. He noticed ladders on each end going to a second floor.
There were two horses in stalls on the left side and four on the right. Andy explained that the two on the left were not hers but both belonged to a man who had hired her to get them ready for his two daughters.
She led him down the right side and introduced Harry to the four horses as if they were family. The two horses in the end stall were both saddled and ready to go. The horse in the end stall was gray and introduced as Callie the Old Gray Mare.
“She’s my oldest and most gentle. I thought she would be perfect for you to start out on.”
“The old gray mare for the old gray man,” Harry said smiling at her.
“Oh, Harry, you know what I mean; she is great with riders with little experience.”
“How about no experience,” he added wryly.
“Harry, I was thinking we would take a nice slow walk around the property, probably about an hour’s ride. It should be a nice, easy way for you to start.”
“I think that’s a good plan but I’m going to ask you for a rain check. I’m just not sure I’m up for it. I don’t recover like I used to and I still haven’t reenergized.”
“I’m sorry Harry, I’ve missed something. What are you talking about?”
“Andy, I apologize. I assumed you had probably heard from Clay or seen it in the newspaper.”
“Oh, I’ve got three days of unread papers in my den and Clay did call, but I haven’t taken the time to call him back. Harry, please tell me what happened.”
Harry gave her a blow by blow description of what happened not only at his house but also in the street. He ended by telling her, “I’m thinking I may be getting too old for all this excitement.”
She stood there for a moment shaking her head with the saddest look on her face that Harry thought he had ever seen. She then took a step toward him and embraced him. She whispered in his ear, “Harry, I am so, so sorry.”
He gently separated himself from her and said, “Andy it’s okay. I’m fine, just tired. I’ll bounce back; I just need a little more time.”
“Of course, you will. We have plenty of time to ride together.”
About that time a Hispanic man in his early fifties came into the barn.
“Harry, I want you to meet Juan. He makes everything work here.”
The two men shook hands and she spoke again, “We have decided not to ride today so you can unsaddle the horses and that’s all for today. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
She led Harry to the equestrian center and then back to the house and they decided to sit on the front porch.
“Harry, can I get you something?”
“No, no, Andy I’m fine. I just need a little more time to recover. It’s no fun getting old.”
“Harry, can I get personal with you?”
“Sure.”
“How are you dealing with being alone? You were married a long time.”
“It’s interesting that you asked. The first three or four months were difficult, but lately, I find myself sometimes going days without any thought of my life with Maggie. I started feeling guilty. I called Ray Andrews, my pastor, and had a long talk with him about my guilt. Ray gave me a lot of peace. He said the Bible says there is a season for grieving, but it doesn’t say how long the season is. He told me it appeared to him my season was over. He told me to move on, we don’t know how many days we have, and I should not waste one of them.”
They both were silent for a few minutes, then she spoke: “How do you feel about that advice?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while and you know I think he’s probably right. You know it’s kinda like being over 70. How are you supposed to feel, how are you supposed to act? You have no experience; you’ve never been there or here before. It’s weird.”
“So does that mean you might make a pass at me?” she said this without a trace of a smile.
“If I were ten years younger, there would be no doubt,” he said this without thinking, and he regretted it.
“Do I take that as a no?” she said again without smiling.
Now he was puzzled. He knew what he wanted to say, but there were so many things he didn’t know about her. Is she a lefty? As bad, is she a loon? He finally said, “Are you making a pass at me?” He thought this was a good response.
“Do you want it to be?” Again she made the response without any sign of emotion.
Harry thought I can never get ahead of this woman. He stood up walked to the rail of the porch and stared at the pasture and woods bordering the open area.
Before he could speak, she said, “Harry I’m sorry. I can see I’m stressing you. I apologize.”
Harry turned and faced her, “No Andy, no, you haven’t stressed me, but you have forced me to see if I am really where I think I am. In a way, it’s like being a teenager trying to figure out girls for the first time. Quite frankly Andy, part of my confusion is because I don’t understand why you might be interested in me in this way.”
“What do you mean Harry?”
“Andy, one, you are much younger. Two, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met and I’m not in the best shape, my hair is disappearing, and at my age, I could die at any time. Other than that, I’m probably perfect for you.”
She finally smiled, “Harry I didn’t want us to call a wedding planner. I just thought it might be a good idea if we got to know each other better. I’ve been by myself for ten years. Oh, I’ve had some dates none of which turned out suitably from my standpoint. Most of the men I’ve been around are either so self-centered, or they just want to get in my bed. I need someone who I can respect. I need someone to talk with and who will not only listen but hear what I have to say. I don’t know if I ever want another husband, but I do want a good friend and companion. I thought, with time, it might be you. Lordy, I’ve said way too much. I’m sorry, you must think I’m crazy.”
Harry was still standing by the porch rail, but now he was smiling, “Do you mind standing?”
“No, but why?” she said standing.
Harry stepped toward her, “Because I want to hold you and thank you.”
They embraced, and she said, “Thank me for what, Harry?”
“For saying what I needed to say, or hear, or both. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than get to know you better.” As soon as he said it, he thought about her women’s group and knew he had to face that conversation probably sooner than later.
“Harry, I think I would like another glass of your rosé.”
“Sure.” They separated from their embrace and headed back to the kitchen.
They emptied the bottle and sat down at the kitchen table. “How about a date for our women’s group. Have you got one for me?”
