If they were shouting for the man who caught the crowbar with his neck, getting out of here without them on my tail was going to be a bitch.
Grabbing a flare from near where the dead guy was, I set it off in a box of pills and with that diversion, headed back out the way I came.
A little fire, no harm, no foul, right?
Except something exploded right around the time I was starting up the ATV.
The man who seemed to be the brains of the operation went back toward the door where he exchanged a few words with the cocksucker wearing my cut.
Once the shorter man looks in my direction, I know the rest of my night is going to hell.
Thankfully, I pass out within the next hour.
Everly
By the end of the next day, I’d delivered a calf and checked all of Eda’s livestock.
Try as they might, I refused to change my mind. The way I see it, Jessup’s life was my responsibility and even if I had to search the county for him, I wasn’t going home until I knew he was alright.
Then the current sheriff showed up right before we decided to stop for lunch.
Eda’s daughter-in-law had, unofficially, been placed as a lookout—and after a long day stuck in a tree stand, she radioed Eda to let her know that the sheriff had turned onto the drive.
After a lot of bickering, Dad had finally given in and left for his store this morning. Him taking an unexpected day off would look more suspicious than not, and in the time since then, Eda and I have been practicing our story.
Now, we’ll see how well we can perform.
“Everly, dear,” Eda calls out from the entrance to the barn. “Sheriff May stopped by to check on you. He was worried you might have been accosted at the Wolf’s Den the other night.”
Leaning back from a stall, I hold my hands out so he can clearly see the shoulder length gloves that I have on. That was not how I imagined this conversation going, but I decide to have some fun with this as I give him a polite smile in greeting.
“I guess all bars have their obnoxious drunks, don’t they? There was this man who wouldn’t stop pestering me,” I tell the sheriff as Eda’s eyes go wide when I veer away from our practiced lines. “He was a bit shorter than me, brown hair, receding hairline, and dark eyes. I moved away from him, but he seemed determined to follow me. There were quite a few families from around town, surely someone can tell you who it was.”
When his nostrils flare out, I know I’ve hit the mark. Having just described his deputy and pointing out that others would have witnessed his behavior, I’m interested in seeing where he’ll take this.
“Hmm, actually I heard there was a biker of some sort that caused the disturbance,” he replies, lacing his thumbs behind his belt.
“If I was the one who was accosted, which I wouldn’t go so far as to call it that,” I answer, briefly looking at the cow when she letsout a moo and stamps her hoof. “Don’t you think I should be the one to tell who it was that was bothering me?”
My eyes meet his and it’s all I can do to keep from looking away. There’s a cruelness in them, like the man at the bar, yet I didn’t see much intelligence in them. May plays chess, whereas Davis plays Chutes and Ladders.
“Anyway, I left as soon as my food was ready and I’ve been up to my elbows in placenta and shit ever since,” I say, suddenly desperate to wrap up this conversation. This is not a man I should have tried messing with and I understand why the townspeople are keeping their heads down.
He continues to study me for another moment before leaning forward to look at the cow in the stall.
“Better you than me,” he quips like we’re friends. “And since you’re saying no harm was done, I’ll leave you to it.”
As he proceeds Eda out of the barn, I rip off the gloves and head out the back way, staying out of sight as I make my way to the tree stand that Livy’s been stuck in most of the day.
“My turn,” I tell her, popping my head up through the trap door.
“Oh, thank God,” she groans, instantly pushing her knitting project into a bag. “I’ve been bored to tears.”
“Of course, just give it another moment until Sheriff May passes by,” I remind her, reaching for the scope that’s dangling from a nail on the wall. “Which way did he come from, anyway?”
“South,” she immediately replies. “Probably from the old Brewer farm that guy Rogan purchased. That’s where most of those men live. Assholes, every damn one of them, no matter how much money they flash around here.”
“Is that so?” Who knew Livy was such a wealth of information? “I don’t think I’ve heard of Rogan before.”
