One Texas Cowboy Too Many (Burnt Boot, Texas #3)(21)

“Why can’t we burn the place down like they did ours?” Randy asked as the three of them made their way down the halls, opening doors and checking closets.

“If I were a teenager, lookin’ for a hidey-hole to make out in with my girlfriend, it wouldn’t be in a schoolhouse in August. It’s like a furnace in here,” Hart whispered.

“If things work like they should, then I don’t reckon it matters if it’s hot as hell or if the air conditioners are runnin’ full force, does it?” Eli said.

“Looks like it’s empty as a tomb,” Randy said when they’d checked the whole place. “Did you check the girls’ bathroom, Hart?”

“Yes, I did, and if y’all go tellin’ anyone I was snoopin’ in a girls’ restroom, well, remember I know shit on you too.” Hart smiled.

“We’re ghosts. We were never here.” Eli opened the back door, and they looked around before trooping out across the yard to the implement shed, which they’d parked the truck in.

“I guess it’s a go, then?” Eli asked.

“Did you poke that dynamite down in the hole like I told you?” Hart asked.

“I did. You run the wire to the truck, Randy?”

“I did, but Hart has to hook it up to the battery. Ain’t no way I’m touching that shit. It scares me worse than rattlesnakes. I’ll be sittin’ inside the truck. Soon as it blows, we’ll back out of the shed and be halfway to Dallas by the time Orville gets here,” Randy answered.

“Y’all get on in the truck. Granny is a genius. Blow up their septic tank and there won’t be no school here next month either. It’ll take weeks for them to clean up the mess and decide what to do. If they can set fire to our school, we can blow up their shit,” Hart laughed.

“Wait!” Randy yelled from the truck bed. “I’m back here shutting the toolbox, and there’s no dynamite left.”

The smile left Hart’s face. “What did you say?”

“I said there was five sticks and now it’s all gone. That shit is hard to get.”

“Eli, how many sticks were left when you shoved one down the cistern opening?” Hart asked.

“None. I used all five of them,” Eli said. “I figured as thick as that concrete is down there, it might take more than one to blow it up good enough they couldn’t use it no more.”

“Holy shit!” Hart said.

“Nope, just plain shit.”

“One would have done the job,” Hart said.

“Then five will be fantastic.” Eli grinned. “Blow the damn thing and let’s go home.”

*

Rhett turned off the main road onto River Bend land at a few minutes before midnight. Leah’s shoulder and hip were scrunched against his and she was as stiff as a board. Hopefully, it was because Betsy Gallagher’s was smashed against her other side. He wondered if a member of each of the feuding families had ever been that close to each other without involving hair pulling or fists.

The same moon he and Leah had talked about the night before still hung in the sky, throwing off enough light to silhouette the playground equipment in the school yard. The movement of the swings powered by the night breeze made it look like the children of the past had come to play after the sun had gone down.

“Never been on River Bend property before. Is that the school over there?” Rhett asked.

“Yes, it is. Started off as a two-room school and then the Brennans built onto it,” Leah answered.

“Wouldn’t be more than half a mile as the crow flies to Fiddle Creek, then, would it?”

Leah shook her head. “It was built on the original ranch. We grew to the west as the family expanded.”

“And we grew that much to the east,” Betsy said.

“So Fiddle Creek is the only thing separating y’all? I can’t for the life of me see why either of you would want it, then. If either of you got control of it, that would mean you’d butt right up to each other. You can’t get along with land separating you now. You should be giving Gladys and Jill protection money to never sell that land, so there will always be space between you,” Rhett said.

Suddenly, the ground rumbled and the truck shook. Rhett held on to the steering wheel and jammed his foot against the brake, throwing gravel and dust every which way. He’d never heard of an earthquake hitting in northern Texas, but they were sure enough experiencing one right then.

“Sweet Jesus, I promise I won’t ever step foot on River Bend again,” Betsy squealed.

It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it seemed like eternity. Rhett got control of the truck, stopped it right in the middle of the road beside the school, and threw his arm around Leah, drawing her closer to his side as the truck rocked from side to side.

Then a shaft of black shot up from the ground and Rhett’s first impression was that the Brennans had been drilling for oil and had hit an old-time gusher. It went straight up in the sky, past the top of the school and the huge old oak trees surrounding it, before it mushroomed and started back down.

All the windows in the school exploded outward and debris flew through the air as the black cloud fell to earth. Betsy screamed and covered her head when something bounced off the truck’s hood. Then something else hit a truck tire and the explosion sounded like a shotgun blast at close range. In no time, the truck was sitting at an angle, sliding all three of them against the driver’s side and plastering Leah even tighter against Rhett.