Bull Mountain(46)

“Well, if you could loan me a stretch of porch and a piece of venison from your icebox, I’d be happy to tell you.”

Val lowered the shotgun. “Get on up here, then. I’ll go put some pants on.”

“Thanks for that,” Clayton said.

“And don’t be steppin’ all over my garden on your way over.” Val turned back into the house and Clayton and Darby eased up to the porch. Darby relaxed for the first time since they’d left the station that afternoon. “You reckon he’s got anything to drink in there?”

Clayton laughed. “The best on the mountain.”

Val came back out wearing a pair of well-worn overalls, holding a thick hunk of backstrap for Clayton’s eye and a large ceramic jug. He handed the meat to Clayton and put a big, calloused hand on his shoulder. No hugs or small-talk sentiment, just a hand on a shoulder and a respectful nod made it obvious to anyone watching that these men were family. It wasn’t necessary to catch up. They were both just thankful to be there now. The old man fished a sleeve of clear plastic cups from a basket between two pine rockers and took a seat. Clayton sat in the other one and laid the ice-cold slab of meat over his throbbing eye. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“Who done that to you, son?”

“Halford.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, not my finest hour.”

“Why you climbing in the ring with that boy? He could have killed you. What was you thinkin’?”

“That’s what I said,” Darby chimed in from the steps and tipped his hat at Val.

“He wasn’t gonna kill me. He’s my brother. Besides, I had Darby there to pull me out when it got bad.” He leaned his head forward and looked at Darby. “Thanks for what you did back there. I mean it. Thanks.”

Darby tipped his hat at Clayton as well. Val set the plastic cups upside down on the cork and slid the jug across the porch, over to the deputy. “Clayton, what are you doing up here fooling with your brother? I thought you kept your sheriffin’ confined to the Valley.”

“Normally I do.”

“Halford come down there steppin’ on your toes?”

“No.”

“Then what, then? You was on your way to visit with me and thought you’d go get yourself an ass-kicking for good measure?”

Clayton laughed, then groaned. “No.”

“Yeah, that can’t be right. None of you boys can ever find the time to come visit an old man.”

“I came up here to make Hal an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Clayton said, and stared up at the wooden beams and tin awning that covered the porch. He wondered if Val had ghosts up in his rafters as well.

“Looks like he refused.”

“Refused hard and repeatedly,” Darby said. He took a swig from his cup and immediately fire raced down his throat and blew through his sinuses. Tears came to his eyes and he smiled wide. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“That’s my deddy’s apple pie.”

Clayton looked over at the jug. “Pour me some of that.”

Darby frowned. “Is that a good idea, sir?”

“You gonna question everything I say today, Deputy?”

“Sorry, sir.” Darby poured a second cup and held it out. Val put up a hand.

“If you’s off the drink, Clayton, maybe you ought to stay that way.”

“Last time I checked, Val, I’m pretty sure I was grown.”

Val let his hand hover for a moment longer and thought about how many times he’d heard Gareth tell him the same thing right before going off and doing something terrible that only one of them would regret. But Clayton was right, he was grown. “Well, then, by all means, Sheriff.” Val put his hand down. “But would you mind tellin’ me why you decided to bring all this to my front porch? You could’ve doctored that eye down in Waymore.”

Clayton took the cold venison from his face and laid it back in the waxy paper it came wrapped in. “Honestly, Val? I was hopin’ to enlist an ally with this Halford thing.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Val said without a second’s hesitation.

Clayton sat upright in the rocker. “Don’t you want to hear what I’ve got in mind?”

“Nope. Sure don’t.”

Clayton looked stunned, like a child who was just denied getting his way.

“Val, you don’t understand.”

“Clayton, now, I said no. You’re welcome to take a load off. Drink a lil’ bit, and I’d be happy to patch you up, but you keep that craziness off my front porch, you hear? I just want to plant my flowers and get old peacefully. Your brother keeps his distance from me, and me from him. I ain’t lookin’ to change that.”

“I thought you cared about him.”

“I cared about your father. And Halford ain’t your father.”

“You say that like Deddy was a good man.”

“No, he wasn’t. Gareth wasn’t a good man. But for a long time, neither was I. We come up together surrounded by all this.” Val lifted his arms out, motioning around him. “We had each other’s backs. Nowadays, that kinda thinkin’ don’t even exist no more, and I want no part of what happens up here.”