The Trouble with Texas Cowboys(10)
Kinsey pouted. “But I thought you could bring one of your apple pies.”
Jill stuck to her guns. “Can’t.”
Two days and the whole town already knew about her baking skills. Holy hell, by the end of the week would they know what color underbritches she wore and where she ordered them from?
It was the music director’s turn next. A tall, willowy blond, with big brown doe eyes and a red knit dress that left little room for underwear and even less to the imagination, took her place behind the podium. “Some of you might not have heard the news, but Polly Cleary broke her ankle yesterday. She’ll be in the hospital a couple of more days, and then she’ll be staying with Gladys for a while. Keep her in your prayers. Now let’s sing ‘Victory Ahead’ before the sermon is delivered.”
Jill’s eyes settled on Sawyer while she sang that by faith she saw victory ahead. Would he stand his ground with those two women, or would they wear him down? Just how strong was he when it came to determined women? She felt sympathy for him, almost as much as for herself. By summer, he might be wishing she had shot him when they first met.
She was glad there wouldn’t be test questions on the sermon that morning, because she hadn’t heard half a dozen words. She thought he mentioned something about starting over, and she did hear the name Ruth a few times, so possibly she could fake her way through part of the test if it meant going to heaven or being sent straight to hell. She spent most of the time stealing glances over toward Sawyer. Eight times he’d been looking at her at the same time. Three of those he grinned; two of them he winked. It gave her confidence that she could get through the day and that tomorrow would start a brand-new week. Hopefully with no Gallaghers or Brennans to plague them.
* * *
“Back the truck in slow like, right up to the chute. Me and Hart will herd them into the truck. Won’t take thirty minutes,” Eli Gallagher said.
Randy nodded. “This is the first job Granny has trusted us with. Y’all better not mess it up. She said every single one of them hogs, babies and all, was to go in this truck. I’ll get parked right up next to the chute and come help y’all herd them, but I’m tellin’ you, if there’s a single problem, I’ll whip both y’all’s asses.”
“Hey, you’re the youngest one of us, so don’t try to be the big boss man. We’re in this together, and we ain’t makin’ no mistakes. Granny said that we got to be in Salt Holler by the time the benediction is done at church this mornin’, and on our way to Mingus by the time the Brennans realize their hogs are gone,” Hart said. “Now back her up easy-like, and we’ll make Granny proud.”
Randy clicked off the instructions in his head: Load ’em up. Make sure to cover any tracks by runnin’ some cattle across the ground after they’d loaded the hogs. Unload them at Wallace’s place, and then take the cattle truck to Mingus, Texas, where there was a bull and two heifers waiting to come to Wild Horse Ranch. Job done and alibi in place.
It was the wrong time of year for piglets, so the job wasn’t as difficult as it could have been. Lord, rounding up squealing piglets was tougher than herding cats. Eli did have a problem with one old sow that set her heels and lowered her head. Damn near set him on his ass in the mud before he got his balance and was able to turn the pig into the chute. Other than that, it was an easy job.
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.