The Saints of Swallow Hill(73)

Out of nowhere, something started happening that hadn’t in a long while. He went absolutely still, hands midair, staring back at himself in surprise. He looked down. It was happening, and his thoughts tumbled one over the other at what seemed like a miracle. They became as tangled as his beard, and then what was happening, reversed. No. No. No. Gone. But, still. This was a good sign. Maybe all he needed was the right woman. Maybe all he needed was her. He finished shaving and rubbed his fingers along his clean jawline. Better. Much better. She might notice.

Early the next morning, he guided Ruby onto the new trail. It was just before five o’clock and the eastern sky lay before him, plum colored with the last dwindling stars scattered in the west. He followed the double-rutted path, most parts overgrown with wiregrass, but here and there cream-colored sandy soil stretched before him in two distinct parallel rows where wagons had gone before. He reflected on how long it might have been since this section of the camp had been worked. After a while he came to a fork and he nudged Ruby to go right. A barred owl took off from a turkey oak; wings stretched wide and with a flap or two, it sailed into the depths of the woods and disappeared. He spotted Clyde’s wagon in the distance. It had grown lighter by now, and the early-morning sun washed the land in warm, honey-colored tones. He urged Ruby to go a little faster, and when he was close to the wagon, he called out to Clyde and the men.

“Morning, y’all.”

“Morning,” came as a subdued chorus.

Preacher did a double take and said, “Ain’t he fancy now!”

Nolan said, “Smooth as butter.”

Clyde said, “Hell, I almost didn’t recognize you. Peewee and Woodall’s somewhere ahead of us. Crow is too, and in a foul mood.”

Del said, “I ain’t ever known him to be otherwise.”

The men chuckled in agreement. He went ahead of the wagon, taking in the area near to the swamp. The palmettos and wiregrass waved with his passing, and he envisioned the wildlife watching secretly as he made his way. Ruby spooked a time or two, her nostrils flaring. He guessed some sort of snake, and he let her go around whatever it was in the way she wanted, and she calmed down. Eventually he caught up to Peewee, Woodall, and Crow, who stood by their horses waiting on the men to hang their dinner buckets.

Woodall did like Preacher and said, “Reese?”

“Woodall.”

Crow looked down the trail and said, “Where’s your workers?”

“On their way.”

“I’m getting my man back.”

Del shrugged. “Up to you.”

As soon as Del’s men arrived, Crow strode over to Nolan before he’d had a chance to put a foot on the ground.

His voice rose above the low din of the work hands talking amongst themselves.

“You’re with me.”

Nolan made the mistake of looking over to Del, and Crow said, “What’re you looking at him for?”

Nolan clutched his hat in his hands, worrying it. “No reason, boss man. Happy to come back.”

“Reckon I’m gonna have to train you all over again.”

Del frowned, while Peewee wagged a warning finger at Crow. Crow leaned into toward Nolan and spoke quietly. It looked to Del like Nolan visibly shivered, before busying himself by sticking his bark hack in his waistband and hurrying to hang his bucket on a branch. He then joined Crow’s men, a ragtag clump of workers as slump-shouldered and downtrodden as any Del had ever seen. Nolan blended in, adopting the same defeated look. As bad as Del hated it for him, the man had been working for Crow a long time and knew how to handle himself.

He turned to his own men and said, “Let’s go see what this new spot’s all about. Preacher, didn’t you say you worked this section before?”

“Yessuh, been about a year ago.”

“What’d you think?”

“Got stung, bit, and ate up by more damn bugs out here than anywheres else. Even with them fires going.”

“Let’s do the best we can.”

Del motioned for Georgie to bring Ruby some water.

As the boy set the bucket down, Del said, “Hey, Georgie, be sure and bring us extra today, okay?”

“Yessuh, I will.”

He smiled and handed Georgie a peppermint candy. It was a routine now, and he made sure he always carried some in his pocket. As he gathered the reins, ready to mount and follow his men, he spotted Nolan hanging back from the others, eyes on Del. Nolan mouthed a word. Del, unable to make it out, didn’t react, not wanting to draw attention to the man. He nudged Ruby forward and missed the moment Nolan broke out of the group, sprinting for the tree line.

Crow yelled, “Hey! Son of a bitch! Stop!”

Nolan didn’t look back, didn’t look left or right. He ran for his life. Del couldn’t have been more astonished than if he’d jumped Crow and started beating him up. Crow jerked his shotgun out of its holder, aimed, and pulled the trigger. Nolan was in the woods by then, and he zigged, then zagged.

Crow shot again, lowered the gun, and pointed at Del. He was so outraged, he was wheezing as he yelled at Peewee, “What’d I tell you?”

Del said, “I’d warrant he didn’t care for his revised work arrangement.”

Crow swung the gun back to his shoulder and aimed it at him.

Peewee grabbed his pistol off his hip and hollered, “Sweeney!”