Mama Rides Shotgun

“This fog is go

Jack looked down, smiling encouragingly. My gaze followed his until I found Belle, leaning on Trey for support. He had a firm arm around her shoulders. She cocked her head, resting it on her brother’s broad chest. As fragile-seeming as a baby sparrow, Belle had obviously been crying. Her pretty green eyes were swollen, and rimmed with red.

Trey squeezed her shoulders, and then nudged her to climb the log.

“Hey, everybody.’’ Belle’s voice was low, barely a whisper. People strained to listen. Some even abandoned spots in the breakfast line to crowd in. I lost sight of Carlos in the shuffle.

Tucking a wild curl behind her ear, Belle tried again, louder this time.

“I’m so glad everybody’s here. Daddy would have been happy to know the ride wasn’t cancelled on his account. He loved Florida history, and especially the Cracker Trail. I can remember him telling us stories about the old-timey cowmen, hunting up half-wild cattle right here in this brush.’’ She waved her arm to the distance, taking in palmetto scrub and stands of sabal palms shrouded in fog. “Growing up, we always had a dog named after the cattle catchdogs Patrick Smith wrote about in A Land Remembered. It was always a Nip or a Tuck.’’

Lawton’s dog, hearing his name, gave a little yip.

“Remember Daddy reading to us from that book?’’ She looked into the crowd, her eyes meeting Trey’s.

“I do,’’ he said, his voice thick.

“Trey and I have decided we’d like to ride along with y’all for a couple of days, if you’ll have us.’’

“Of course we will,’’ someone yelled. “Glad to,’’ shouted someone else.

“Daddy left a capable ranch foreman in charge and detailed instructions about what to do in the event that he ever …’’ Belle paused, swallowing hard. “In the event he passed away.’’

Trey stepped closer to the log, reaching up to hold his sister’s hand.

“Anyway, there’s not a whole lot for the two of us to do until the funeral,’’ she said. “We’d like to honor him by riding along, honor how much he cherished our Florida land.’’

Maddie leaned over to whisper in my ear, “‘Cherish’ might be too strong a word. I heard Lawton pla

“No!’’ I whispered back.

“Hand to God,’’ Maddie said, relishing telling me news I hadn’t known.

“Shhh!’’ Marty shushed us.

Lawton’s daughter opened her mouth to speak again, just as a murmur spread through the crowd. People began to push and move this way and that. Someone in the rear shouted, “Let her through!’’

Belle put a hand to her forehead and peered toward the back of the clearing, trying to see what the interruption was. Heads turned. The crowd parted. Everyone stared at Wyno

“As I was saying. . .’’ Belle tried unsuccessfully to regain the crowd’s attention. Most eyes were on Wyno

“Go ahead, sweetie,’’ she said, waving the black neck scarf up at Belle. “I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.’’

Sure, I thought. And Eve never meant to tempt Adam with that apple, either.

“Did you have something you wanted to say, Wyno

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt.’’ Wyno

“Thanks, sweetie.’’ Wyno

Belle’s head jerked up. Trey’s mouth hung open.

“Lawton’s business manager will follow his instructions in the next day or so. We won’t be missed. And I think doing what Lawton would have loved to do is the best way for us to remember him. As a family.’’

“Belle and Trey look like they’d rather be mothered by a rabid she-wolf,’’ Maddie said in my ear.

Trey’s mouth was closed now, his face a furious red. Belle didn’t seem as fragile as before. Her back was plank straight. Her tiny hands were clenched into fists. And the eyes she turned on Wyno

The breakfast line inched forward like pickups in the parking lot after a Monster Truck rally. The smell of bacon and fresh coffee was painfully mouthwatering. I reached around my sisters, trying to grab a plate and plastic utensils so I’d be ready when I finally did get to the front. Maddie slapped my hand.

“I don’t believe it’s your turn yet, is it Mace?’’

“Maddie, I left middle school twenty years ago. Stop principal-ing me.’’

“Well, Lord knows somebody’s got to watch your ma

Marty picked up a plastic serving set, making a show of handing it around Maddie to me.

“Stop fussing, you two. We’re all hungry. And nobody’s an animal. Now, Mace, tell us what’s going on with Carlos. Is it true he plans to ride?’’

The speeches from Belle and Wyno

“I haven’t actually talked to the man, Marty. But that’s what he told Sal. Carlos came up this morning with that group from Homestead. Somebody down there loaned him a horse. Though it’s hard for me to believe he knows much about trail riding. I’ll bet the closest he’s ever come is cruising asphalt in a squad car on Tamiami Trail.’’

We finally loaded up our plates—eggs and bacon with a side of biscuits and sausage gravy for Maddie and me; the same minus the meat for Marty. Mama waved us over to where she sat with Sal.

As we passed by the riders still standing in the chow line, I overheard a snatch of conversation that almost made me drop the breakfast I’d waited so long to get.

“. . . and this gal doesn’t think Lawton had a heart attack. My daughter Amber told me she and Lauren heard all of them discussing it last night at the campfire.’’

I slowed down to listen in on two women in their thirties, standing with their backs to me. “Do you know her?’’ one asked the other.

“Never met her.’’

“Well, I heard she cracked a murder case last summer down in Himmarshee, so she must know something.’’

“Really? I heard it was her mama who actually caught the murderer.’’

I nearly poked my head in to say they had it all wrong about what happened last summer. Mama didn’t catch a murderer. She was accused of being the murderer.

“Hurry up, Mace,’’ Maddie called over her shoulder, her face scrunched in a