Mama Rides Shotgun (11 page)

Ssssttt, Ssssttt, Ssssttt . . .

I closed the space
between Marty and me by instinct. I don’t even think I was aware of the cow whip in my hand. Yet, my elbow was cocked and ready as I ran to her side.

The tail on the diamondback stood up straight, rattles vibrating. The snake’s tongue darted to and fro. Its cat-eyes gleamed. Marty stood motionless, in striking distance.

I prayed that all those hours of practice I’d put in by my daddy’s side wouldn’t fail me. My arm tingled with the memory of knocking tin cans off fence posts and clipping oranges off their branches. I didn’t want to think about the many times I’d missed my targets.

I heard Carlos shout, as if from far away: “Don’t move, Marty.’’ From the corner of my eye, I saw him edge into the campsite and stoop to get a rock. It wasn’t big or heavy enough to crush the snake’s head quickly. It would only aggravate him enough to make him strike.

“I’ve got it,’’ I yelled, surprised when my voice sounded calm.

I snapped my arm at the elbow and let the whip fly from about eight feet out.

Crack!

Marty flinched. Her eyes squeezed shut. The whip hit a few inches behind the snake’s venom glands. The force all but severed its head. For a few seconds, the body writhed across my jacket, dying. I finished it off with another whip crack. Marty probably wouldn’t want to borrow that particular piece of clothing again.

“It’s okay, Sister. You can look now,’’ I said.

Carlos rushed forward to catch her before she hit the ground. I snapped the whip a third time, just to be sure no strike was left in the snake. Marty hung on Carlos’ neck, her face buried in his chest. He patted her on the back.

“You’re all right, Marty. Your sister killed it.’’

When he raised his gaze to mine, I wondered whether admiration or anger was making his eyes so dark. Carlos wasn’t short on Latin machismo;
I was unsure how he’d take a woman riding to the rescue
.

“Go ahead and look, Marty,’’ he urged her. “Mace was amazing.’’

So it was admiration. Surprise, surprise.

Just then, Mama, Maddie and Sal walked into the campsite. Maddie carried two dead sabal fronds, bushy side down, like a broom in each hand.

“Yoo-hoo!’’ Mama called. “Who’s ready for dinner?’’

At a glance, she took in Carlos supporting Marty, her tears soaking his shirt. She rushed to Marty’s side. Maddie dropped the brown fronds and ran after her.

“What happened, Marty? What’s wrong?’’ As she stroked Marty’s hair, Mama looked over at me, recoiling my whip. Then she spotted the snake on the ground. Her eyes widened. A hand flew to cover her mouth.

“Jesus H. Christ on a crutch,’’ Maddie said.

“Don’t touch it,’’ I warned them. “It’s dead, but a rattlesnake has heat-sensing pits behind the eyes. Put a warm hand near it, and the head may still bite as a reflex.’’

Carlos swallowed uneasily and took a step back.

Sal lumbered toward us. “Rosie, you look like you met a ghost. Is everything okay?’’

“It is now. Mace saved Marty’s life.’’ Carlos pointed to the snake. “She killed
that
with her bullwhip. It was like something out of the Wild West.’’

“Cow whip,’’ I said. “Out west, they say bullwhip. But Florida Crackers have always called them cow whips. And we had cattle in Florida before there even
was
a Wild West.’’

“That’s right,’’ Maddie nodded. “Spanish explorers brought the first cattle to Florida in the 1500s. It irks Mace we never get credit for starting what the Wild West made famous.’’

Sal clapped me on the back so hard it nearly knocked me down. “Cow whip, bullwhip, whaddever. You’re a hero, Mace.’’

I didn’t mind standing around basking in praise. But now that the adrenaline rush was waning, I wanted to know how the hell a rattlesnake had found its way into my Jeep.

“Marty, where exactly was that snake?’’

She turned her head to stare at the diamondback’s remains, and then hid her eyes against Carlos’ chest again.

“N’dyak-yak,’’ came her shirt-muffled answer.

“Say what?’’ I asked.

Marty lifted her head, but still hung on his neck. Good thing she weighed no more than a flea.

“In your jacket,” she repeated, more clearly now. “It was trapped in there. The zipper was pulled all the way up. The hood was folded over the neck hole, and the two sleeves were tied together over that.’’ She gazed at my Jeep, the passenger door still standing open. “And your jacket wasn’t under the seat, like you said. It was on the dashboard.’’

A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature inched down my spine.

“I figured you’d wrapped it up all small like that so it’d fit on your saddle. It took me a while to unfasten everything. When I did, that’s when I saw the snake.’’ She shuddered.

“I know less about snakes than I do about horses, but they must be the acrobats of the animal world,’’ Sal said. “How the hell did he get himself all contorted inside the jacket?’’

None of us said a word; we just stared at Sal. It took him only a moment to catch on.

“Holy shit!’’ he said.

___

Standing three people back in the potty line, I shifted my weight from foot to foot. I’m calm in a crisis. But after the threat is over, the reality of what might have happened usually hits me right in the bladder. I didn’t even want to think what might be taking so long with the big cowboy who’d closed the plastic door on one of the portable toilets a good five minutes before.

While I waited, I thought of how kind Carlos had been with Marty. My little sister is happily married. Carlos knows that. I knew he wasn’t interested in her in that way. He’d comforted her exactly like a big brother or an uncle would. Caring. Compassionate. Platonic. As I thought about it now, it seemed awfully similar to the way he’d acted with Belle. Had I jumped to conclusions where Carlos and Lawton’s daughter were concerned?

One of the toilets opened. Now I was two people back. I prayed my turn wouldn’t come up on the toilet the big cowboy vacated.

Hurry, hurry
, I said to myself.

“They say that guy from Miami killed the rattlesnake with his bare hands. I heard it was six feet long.’’

The young girl’s voice was coming from the opposite side of the toilet trailer.

“Nuh-huh, Lauren. You’re wrong. I heard it was seven feet. And he tossed a buck knife at it and sliced it right in half.’’

I didn’t want to lose my spot in line. But I knew if I didn’t speak to the girls, they’d turn Carlos into King of the Snake Killers before supper. Why should he get unearned credit? Craning my neck, I saw the chatty teens I’d already encountered once.

“You’re both wrong, Amber,’’ I whispered to the closest girl. “It was me who killed the snake, and I used a cow whip, like any good Florida Cracker would.’’

“Weren’t you scared?’’ Lauren asked me.

“Only a fool is without fear,’’ I said, already regretting blabbing about myself.

Amber said, “I would have been peeing my pants!”

Which reminded me of why I was there.

“We can talk later if you want, girls. But right now, nature calls.’’

I was up next, and a door was swinging open. The big cowboy stepped out, waving his hat and looking sheepish.

Ah, the joys of life on the trail.

___

I held a marshmallow on a stick over the campfire. “You’re gonna love this,’’ I promised.

“You’re burning it,’’ Carlos said.

“Not ‘burning,’ toasting. I can’t believe you’ve never eaten a S’more.’’ I rotated the stick to finish off the top side of the marshmallow.

“Mace, it’s black,’’ he complained. “It looks like charcoal.”

“Trust me on this, Carlos.’’ I pulled the stick from the fire and used one half of a graham cracker to slide the marshmallow onto the other half. Topping it with a piece of a Hershey’s chocolate bar, I smashed the two crackers into a sandwich and handed it to him. “The ash only makes it taste better.’’

He picked up the top cracker and peered inside.

“You’re not supposed to arrest it, Carlos. You’re supposed to eat it.’’

By the time he’d “tried’’ four more S’mores, we were both pleasantly full and floating on a sugar buzz.

Dinner was long over. Most of the other riders had left the fire to turn in for the night. Mama and Sal were off settling Marty into a spare sleeping compartment that Mama had wrangled for her in somebody’s RV. They’d moved Mama’s horse and Sal’s Caddy to sleep closer to Marty. The poor girl had a migraine from her near-miss. She didn’t want to spend the night on the ground in a tent, and I can’t say I blamed her. She’d have lain awake all night and worried about giant rattlers. And if Marty couldn’t sleep, neither would I, for worrying about her.

Maddie had met up with a teacher she knew from Seminole County. The two of them were huddled together at the woman’s campsite, catching up on old times and bashing their respective school boards.

All of us were talked out over the rattlesnake incident. We argued over who might have done it and why, and whether it was linked to my shredded tent. Then, we told the trail boss what happened. He made an announcement about it before dinner.

“One of our riders had a run-in with a diamondback this afternoon,’’ Jack Hollister had said, mentioning no names. “There’s a chance someone might have put that snake there as a prank, or maybe as some kind of warning.’’

Several people in the crowd gasped. Lauren and Amber stepped out of the chow line to stare at me, their eyes round as saucers.

Jack’s stern gaze moved over the crowd. “I can’t imagine I need to say this, but I will anyway. If we find out this was intentional, the person who did it will never ride the Cracker Trail again. And we’ll hand them with pleasure over to the county sheriff’s office.’’

Now, Carlos and I were alone by the campfire. It had burned so low it needed another log. I had two final marshmallows and half a chocolate bar left in a plastic bag.

“Can I interest you in S’more,
señor
?’’

“All that sugar is making you silly.’’ Carlos grumbled, but I saw a tiny smile cracking the granite of his jaw. “I’ll help you out and eat one more if you eat the other one.’’

“
Claro que sí
,’’ I nodded, showing off some of the Spanish he’d taught me.

This time, his smile was full-fledged. “You’re something, you know that?’’ He squeezed my shoulder. Was the touch just beyond friendly? “I still can’t get over you and that cow whip.’’

“It was really just instinct,’’ I said, trying to sound modest. “My daddy taught me well. Back in his great-granddaddy’s day, the pioneers used their whips for everything. Scaring hogs from the garden. Snatching fruit from trees. Signaling danger on the open range or between far-flung homesteads. You know, the whip’s crack will carry a mile or more through the woods.’’

“Is that so?’’ He brushed a bit of hair from my eyes.

“Yep,’’ I answered, cursing the shiver of desire I felt at his touch.

He brought his face close to mine. “Fascinating. Tell me more,’’ he whispered, chocolate-scented breath hot on my cheek.

I scooted backwards on the ground, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “Now, you’re making fun of me.’’

“I’d never,’’ he answered, rising to his knees to follow me. Suddenly, that dying campfire felt awfully hot. I stopped backing away. He cupped my chin and lifted my face. Our eyes met. Memories of his touch on my naked body washed over me.

Then, I felt someone tap me hard on the shoulder. “Really do hate to interrupt,’’ came a nasty voice from behind me. “But I understand you want to talk to me.’’

I took just a second to wonder what would have happened next with Carlos. Then I turned to look up at my top suspect in the case of the planted rattlesnake.

“First of all, I
don’t appreciate you spreading speculations around about me and some snake,’’ Austin said, leaning into my face. “I’d sooner chew on broken glass than get anywhere near one of those horrible creatures. I’m deathly afraid of them.’’

“It’s true, Mace.’’ Trey tugged at his ex-girlfriend’s arm, trying to back her off. “She hates snakes. Once, I took her to the reptile house at Busch Gardens. She started screaming and carrying on before we’d barely gotten through the door.’’

“I
told
you I didn’t want to go in there, Trey.’’

“Well, I wanted to see the python, Austin. I didn’t know you were going to freak out.’’

“I said I was afraid. You
never
listen!’’

She tossed her curls and pouted. Trey sighed like he’d been through it before. I wondered if I’d stumbled into an episode of
Divorce Court
.

“I’m not crazy about snakes, either.’’ Rising to his feet beside the campfire, Carlos smiled at my suspect. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,’’ he said. “Austin, is it?’’

I raised my eyebrows. All of a sudden Mr. Rude Miami was Mr. Good Manners? “Sorry,’’ I said, and then did some quick introductions. “Carlos Martinez, Trey Bramble. Lawton was Trey’s daddy. And this is Austin Close, Trey’s ex-fiancée, and, conveniently, a snake phobic.’’

She glared at me, and then extended a hand and a sunny smile at Carlos.

“I heard y’all were discussing me at dinner, Mace. I just wanted to come over to say I had nothing to do with that snake.’’ I got the lower-watt version of Austin’s smile. “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, haven’t we?’’

“Well, I do tend to take it personally when someone snaps a cow whip to spook my horse into traffic.’’

“An accident, as I’ve told you,’’ she said through clenched teeth. “And, I think I recall apologizing more than once.’’

“Mace is bad about accepting apologies, Austin,’’ said Carlos, the rat. “She really hangs onto a grudge.’’

“I do not.’’ I rose from the ground and crossed my arms over my chest. “And I’ll prove it by calling a truce. You say you had nothing to do with my tent? Okay. And the whip was an accident? Fine. Now, you’re afraid of snakes? Whatever. So if the rattler wasn’t you, any idea who it might have been?’’

I looked from her to Trey and back again. They both shook their heads.

“Not only do I not know who, I don’t know
why
,’’ Trey said.

“We thought it could be a message of some sort, like someone doesn’t want Mace around,’’ Carlos said. “Maybe someone doesn’t want any questions asked about your father’s death, Trey.’’

I narrowed my eyes at Austin. “Or maybe it’s someone who doesn’t want me around for another reason.’’

She snorted. “You think I’m jealous? Of you?’’ Her gaze traveled from my greasy hair to my manure-caked boots, resting a moment on what were probably flecks of marshmallow stuck to my chin. “Please!’’

Carlos held up his hands. “Ladies, ladies. Arguing will get us nowhere. Why don’t we all sit down and start over?”

“Getting chilly,’’ Trey said, taking a seat on the ground.

“Should be another cold one,’’ Carlos added.

Austin sat, too. She drummed her manicured fingernails on her knee and stared up at me. I counted the stars in Orion’s belt.

“Not as cold as last night, though,’’ Trey tried again.

“The fire feels great.’’ Carlos rubbed his hands together. “¡
Que bueno!
’’

“Is that Spanish?’’ Austin broke her silence.

He nodded.

“That’s what everybody speaks down in Miamuh,’’ Trey said.

“What’s it mean?’’ Austin asked, ignoring Trey’s cultural commentary.

“It’s like saying something is really good,’’ Carlos said. “¡
Que bueno!
’’

“I
love
hearing men speak a foreign language. It’s
so
romantic.’’ She clapped her hands excitedly, like a little girl about to kiss Santa. “Say something else.’’

“¿
Qué quieres que te diga
?’’

“Ooooooh, what’s that mean?’’

“It means, what do you want me to say?’’

Carlos’ eyes crinkled into a smile. Austin laughed, too heartily I thought. My S’mores were struggling to come back up.

“So,’’ her voice got low and sultry, “is what I’ve heard about Spanish men true?’’

Trey rolled his eyes at me, then tugged his hat down low over his forehead.

“I’m not Spanish. That’s someone from Spain. I’m Cuban, but I speak Spanish. And it depends on what you’ve heard.’’ Carlos smiled devilishly.

“About how they’re extra, uhm . . . sexy.’’ She widened her blue eyes at him. “You know, in the bedroom?’’

Carlos chuckled in a way I’d never heard before. Who was this guy?

“I’m going to have to plead the Fifth on that line of questioning,
niña
. I blush easily.’’

“Oh, you!’’ She gave his broad chest a playful shove. I could swear she licked her lips.

I felt around on the ground until I found a big rock. Then I tossed it into the flames with enough force to send sparks all over the two people seated closest to the fire.

“Sorry,’’ I said. “I think I’ve had enough campfire chat for tonight.’’

Trey pushed back his hat and stood up. “Me, too.’’ He shot Austin a disgusted look. “Let me walk you to your tent, Mace. I’ve got a flashlight.’’

I had one, too. But I decided to let Trey be gallant. I glanced over to see if Carlos noticed, but he seemed hypnotized by Austin. The hungry way he was looking at her was completely different than the protectiveness he’d shown toward Belle. Austin’s eyes smoldered. The firelight reflected like a halo off her dark hair, hypnotizing him. The witch.

“Okay, then. Goodnight,’’ I said.

Carlos mumbled, “ ’night,’’ barely looking at me.

Trey took my arm as we left. I leaned into him, purposely putting my head on his shoulder. Just before we rounded a big oak, I stole a last glance backward. Carlos was plucking a bit of spattered ash off Austin’s cheek. As far as he was concerned, Trey and I could have been on the moon.

___

I slammed a tin cup onto the hood of my Jeep. Yanking the top off a bottle of water, I swigged, rinsed, and spit into the bushes. Then I squirted more toothpaste onto my brush and started all over. I wanted to obliterate the taste of those stupid S’mores I’d shared with Carlos.

Trey leaned against the horse trailer at my campsite, watching me.

“Take it easy, Mace. You’re about to scrub the enamel right off your pearly whites.’’

“MmmmFFfff,’’ I muttered, around a mouthful of brush and paste.

“You don’t need to worry about Austin. Flirting comes natural to her. She hardly ever takes it to the next level.’’

I spit. “Why would I be worried? I couldn’t care less who she flirts with.’’

“That’s not how it seemed to me. I saw the way you and your Miamuh friend were looking at each other when we came up. And then I saw how you looked leaving just now. If looks could kill, Austin would be bleeding from the throat.’’

I got busy, drying my toothbrush on my shirttail.

“You’re not going to deny there’s something between you, are you? A blind man could see you two have a history.’’

“Ancient history.’’ I put the toothpaste and brush back in the tin cup.

“He’s kind of slick.’’ Trey’s lip curled. Slick isn’t a compliment on the Cracker Trail. “How’d you ever hook up?’’

“We met last summer when he took a detective’s job with the Himmarshee police department.’’

“So, he’s a cop. Is he looking into what happened to Daddy? Has he told you what he thinks?’’

“Carlos isn’t good about sharing information,’’ I said.

“Yeah, but he must have said something.’’

“Well, he did tell Belle he can get some tests run on your Daddy’s chili cup.’’

“Belle?’’ Trey’s shoulders tensed. “What’s he got to do with her?’’

Good question. I’d also like to know what he’s got to do with Austin. But that wasn’t a topic for Trey and me.

“I think Carlos just feels sorry for your sister, Trey. He lost his wife a couple of years ago, so he knows what grief is. He offered to help. That’s all.’’

Taking a step toward him, I put a hand on his forearm. His skin felt warm, especially as the night was growing colder. I watched him as he cast his eyes down to my hand. I was close enough to count his eyelashes, lush and black against his cheek. A tear glistened there.

When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Daddy and I had our problems, everybody knows that. I just never knew that losing him would hurt so bad.’’

I wiped at the tear, careful to avoid the jagged, bar-fight scratch on his cheek. He took my wrist, and then brought my palm to his lips. His soft kiss sent a shudder of pleasure south. The shudder evolved into a moan as Trey turned to my fingers, nipping first at one, then the next and the next. My knees became jelly. I had no idea the fingertips could be an erogenous zone.

“You know,’’ he whispered, “I had a secret crush on you at Himmarshee High.’’

Even with the electrifying effect of his hot breath in my ear, I knew that was ridiculous.

“The football star, the hottest guy in school, crushing on me? Yeah, sure.’’

“It’s true. I think it’s because you were the only girl who didn’t make a big deal over me. You were strong and independent, and almost as tall as me. I always wondered what it would be like to put my arm around you and hold you tight.’’

Even if it wasn’t true, it sure sounded good. I lifted his hand to my lips.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did hold me tight,’’ I finally said when I finished with his fingers.

I could feel him hard against me as he folded me into his arms. I closed my eyes against the image of Carlos that intruded. I knew Trey wasn’t Mr. Right; but he was Mr. Right Now. He was ready for me. And I was ready for him, even if he wanted me right there, standing up against the horse trailer.

I lifted my face, and he covered my lips with his. He tasted good; salty with a hint of the banana pudding from dessert. After my marathon tooth-scouring, I was at least confident my breath was minty fresh. I’d just begun to explore his tongue with my own when I heard a loud harrumph from the far side of the campsite.

“You two might want to untangle yourselves.’’ Maddie’s disapproving scowl was clear, even in the lantern light. “Trey’s sister has gone missing.’’