I was contemplating a teeming Florida peninsula, paved with strip malls from coast to coast, when I heard a voice beside me.
“Penny for your thoughts, Mace,’’ Mama said.
“You’d be overpaying.’’
“C’mon, honey. Cheer up. It’s a beautiful day. They say it’s going to get nice and warm.’’
“Great. That’ll make that long slog we hit by the dairy smelly, dusty, and sweaty.’’
“Don’t be such a sourpuss, Mace. Are you mad over Carlos and that trampy gal?’’
I shot her a warning glance.
“Maddie told me all about it.’’
Well, of course she did, I thought.
“Honey, that Austin isn’t any threat to you. Although I’ll have to admit she knows how to make herself up and fix those pretty curls of hers. I wonder if she ever worked in a beauty salon?’’
“Not helping, Mama.’’
“Sorry, honey. I was going to say she can’t hold a candle to you. Carlos would never be interested in a shallow, silly girl like that. Did you consider he might just be playing her along to see what she knows?’’
Mentally, I slapped myself on the forehead. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t considered that. And I didn’t give him a chance to tell me, one way or the other, before Val and I stomped off. I really am an idiot.
“No, I didn’t,” was all I said to Mama.
She peered at me from under her purple hat. The rising sun threw a plum-colored shadow across her face. “Now, there’s that smile I like to see,’’ Mama said, “even if it’s just a little one. We’ll get all that settled with Carlos and you, honey. I can see you need a little help . . .’’
“No way,’’ I tried to interrupt.
“. . . a little help with matters of the heart,’’ Mama continued. “I do have to say that making time with Trey Bramble in the woods probably isn’t the best way to get Carlos back.’’
Damn Maddie and her big mouth.
I steered us onto safer conversational ground. “How’s Shotgun behaving?’’
She leaned to pat the horse’s neck. “He’s a good horse, aren’t you, boy? I thought I’d take him up by the wagons, see how he handles. We’ll get Maddie, and ride together ’til lunch.’’
That sounded like a good plan. I had a bone to pick with my blabber-mouth sister.
“You’re looking good, Mama,” I called out.
“Show him who’s boss,’’ Maddie added.
I hadn’t had time yet to dress Maddie down for telling my secrets. Shotgun had gotten a little skittish when the three of us drew close to the wagons. He didn’t behave as badly as Carlos’s thoroughbred had, but bad enough that Mama had to show him a firm hand. She spun him around a few times. Then she urged him once to the rattling wagon, and then back again.
A retired rodeo cowboy named Del, relegated by age and injuries to riding a lawn chair in the back of a mule wagon, watched as Mama worked with Shotgun. Del lifted a plastic cup to his mouth, spit a stream of tobacco juice, and then spoke.
“I’ve seen worse riders, I’ll tell you that.’’ His voice sounded like a truckload of rocks being dumped into a pit. “In fact, this here little ol’ gal’s a better rider than a buddy of mine, back in rodeo. One time, a bronc threw him up so high that a bird had time to build a nest between his hair and his hat before he hit the ground.’’
Del spit in the cup again.
“That’s the God’s honest truth.’’
As we all laughed, I wished Marty had been up to riding with us. I felt a rush of love for Mama and my sisters. I was even willing to forgive them for sticking their noses in my business. We were bonding on the Cracker Trail, just like Mama said we would.
I just hoped nothing happened to make us lose that warm, family feeling.
___
“Where are you?’’ Maddie shouted into her cell phone. “This signal’s awful out here.’’
So much for Florida pioneer authenticity. I wasn’t going to complain in this case, though. Maddie was talking to Marty—or trying to, anyway. And I was anxious to see how our little sister was doing.
We’d made it to the lunch site, a wide pasture ringed by hickory trees, sabal palms, and big live oaks. The smell of grilled sausage with green peppers and onions drifted our way. We sat on the ground in the shade, our horses tied nearby, as Maddie tried to decipher if Sal and Marty were going to meet us in time to eat.
“What are they saying, honey?’’ Mama asked.
Maddie waved her hand in irritation. “Shush, Mama. I can barely hear her as it is.’’
She yelled into the phone, “We’re to the left of the food trailer as you come into the pasture. There’s a big red pickup parked about twenty-five feet away from us.’’
Marty may not have heard her, but everyone else at the lunch site had. A couple seated on a fallen log frowned at Maddie before they moved to enjoy nature’s glories somewhere else.
“I lost her.’’ Maddie shook the phone and held it to her ear. “Yep. She’s gone. Damn it.’’
“Language, Maddie,’’ Mama said.
We always got a kick out of Mama telling us that, seeing as she could cuss a blue streak when she felt like it. But she always asked Jesus for forgiveness afterwards.
“Sal knows where he’s going, right?’’ I asked Mama.
We were relying on him again, with Marty’s help, to move vehicles and gear ahead so we’d have everything once we rode into the evening camp.
“Well, of course he knows, Mace. Sal’s made a detailed map,’’ Mama said.
He had a map yesterday, too, and managed to get lost. I had the feeling without the Bronx Zoo or Yankee Stadium as landmarks, Sal missed his bearings.
“Well, I think we should go ahead and eat,’’ Maddie said.
As soon as we agreed Maddie and Mama would line up for our food while I stayed with the horses, they were off. My sister always manages to move fast when food’s at the finish line.
“Get me a lemonade,’’ I called after them. “And extra onions on my sausage sandwich.’’
“I guess that means you’re not planning on kissing anyone this afternoon.’’
Startled, I looked up to see Wynonna smiling down at me. Maybe I was distracted by my stomach grumbling and the horses moving around in the woods, but she moved with surprising stealth for a woman in red alligator boots with heels.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,’’ she said. “Mind if I sit down?’’
I motioned at the ground across from me. “Be my guest.’’
As she sat, she grinned and said, “So, how’s your mama getting along on Shotgun?’’
“He’s great,’’ I smiled back. “We sure appreciate you letting her ride him.’’
Wynonna waved her hand as if to say it was nothing. Then her grin faded, replaced by a serious expression.
“I wanted to ask you about Trey, Mace.’’
Uh-oh.
“I wondered if you’ve had a chance during the ride to really talk with him?’’
I studied her, trying to determine her game. She returned my gaze with guileless eyes, wide with concern.
“Why?’’ I hedged.
“Because I’m worried about him, that’s why. Your mama told me you two went to school together. I thought maybe he might have said something to you about what he’s going through.’’
“Well, he’s grieving for his father, of course.’’ I was still being careful.
“Of course,’’ Wynonna said. “What about his drinking, though?’’