For You (The 'Burg #1)(146)
Feb pressed her lips together but a brightness lit her eyes and Colt reckoned the lip press was to stop her from bursting out laughing.
Then she mumbled, “I shouldn’t laugh, it’s not nice, her gettin’ shot down and all, not to mention we’re at a funeral, but, for some reason, I think I’m gonna laugh.”
Colt gave her a squeeze and advised, “It isn’t nice and neither is she but save it, baby. You can laugh later.”
Feb kept pressing her lips together but now she was nodding.
Her eyes went over his shoulder and she pulled partially away, keeping on arm around him, whispering, “Dave Connolly’s headed our way.”
Colt turned in her arm and saw Dave moving in their direction. He noted instantly that Dave had learned the lesson that the drama seemed exciting until it became real and people were dead. Dave looked crushed.
“Colt, Feb,” Dave said when he hit them.
“Dave,” Colt replied.
“You all right?” Feb asked.
“She worked for me,” Dave told Feb like she didn’t know. He looked at the casket and continued, “Amy,” then he looked back at them and finished, “what a waste.”
Feb took a small step forward and grabbed his hand, giving it a little squeeze before she dropped it again.
“Never find someone like her to work a station,” Dave muttered. “These days, folks don’t have Amy’s work ethic. They sneeze, they take three days off. Findin’ someone will be a pain in the ass.”
Feb pressed her lips together again and tipped her head back to look at Colt. Like Colt, she was uncertain how to react to someone who considered the loss of a human life a “waste” because it was an inconvenience to them.
Feb looked back to Dave and said, “Hopefully, you’ll luck out.”
“Yeah,” Dave muttered, saw folks moving to seats, nodded to them with a small wave of his hand and said, “Later,” before he headed toward Julie.
Feb exchanged another glance with him, it communicated volumes and Colt communicated back without words, instead he shook his head.
Then he guided Feb to a seat and whispered, “You gonna be able to sit down?”
“Just be prepared to offer me your jacket if this skirt gives way.”
She took her time aiming her ass into the seat while she held her breath and Colt couldn’t stop his smile even as he held back his own laughter. Once she accomplished this feat, he sat beside her and slid an arm around the back of her chair. She cautiously let her weight fall to the side until it hit him and she settled with her hand on his thigh.
The pastor headed to the podium but Colt’s eyes caught on something and he looked to his left.
Mrs. Harris was turned in her seat. She didn’t smile, she didn’t nod, she didn’t do anything, just looked at him and Feb. Then he watched her turn back when the pastor started talking and he wondered what was on her mind. Colt and Feb being back together was no balm to her soul, he knew, nothing would be.
Colt’s eyes moved to a casket containing the body of a woman who lived half a life. Pressed to his side was a breathing woman who’d done the same. Both, he figured, in one way or another, did this because of Denny.
He lifted his arm from the back of Feb’s seat, curled his fingers around her shoulder and bent his head so his mouth was at her ear.
“Love you, baby,” he whispered, her head tilted back, her eyes caught his and then, with that February Owens light pouring out, she smiled.
* * * * *
Doc waited until after the funeral and everyone was walking to their cars from the graveside to make his approach.
Colt stopped Feb at the passenger side of the truck and waited for the old man to arrive.
“Colt, February,” Doc said when he made it, his face showing this wasn’t a friendly visit. He had something on his mind.
“Doc,” Feb smiled at him and Doc smiled back, then his eyes went to Colt.
“Let the dead dog alone, Doc,” Colt told him, he felt Feb’s body jerk in surprise at his side but he didn’t look away from Doc.
“I see, you two together, you worked it out. And you two here, I figure you found it in your hearts –”
“Nothin’ to find, Doc, let it lie.”
Doc stared at him then he looked at Feb then back at Colt before he said, “Boy–”
“She told you it was me,” Colt said.
Doc closed his eyes, opened them and said, “I know, man like you, even the man you were then, you’d –”
“She didn’t do anything to me, Doc. Let it lie.”
Doc got closer and his eyes slid to Feb and back to Colt and Colt knew what he was communicating.
Softly, he informed him, “The baby she had wasn’t mine.”
“Colt –”
“It wasn’t mine, Doc, let it lie.”
“She told me –”
“Let it lie.”
“Boy, you know now, I know you do, no denyin’ it, you got a son.”
“The baby was Denny’s.”
Colt watched as Doc took a step back, his face showing surprise.
“I reckon,” Colt went on, “she didn’t wanna tell you because either she was in denial herself or, if she told you she’d been raped, she expected you’d try to get her to report it, something she didn’t have the strength to see through. She picked me because she knew you’d let that slide and she picked Craig for the birth certificate because she wanted me and Feb to have no more harm. Now the bones are exposed Doc, let’s all let them lie.”