Mama Rides Shotgun

The two teen-aged eavesdroppers from the campfire sat right next to Mama and Sal. The girls stared as my sisters and I walked up. They were probably trying to gauge if I was packing a pistol in my jeans.

“Y’know,’’ I a

“I was not gossiping, Mace!’’

“I’m not talking about you, Mama.’’ I nodded pointedly at the two girls, who blushed and looked at the ground.

“Well, I never gossip,’’ Maddie said with a huff.

“Not talking about you either, Maddie. Though I’d never say never.’’

I continued to stare at the girls, who seemed fascinated by the scraps of biscuits and rinds of cantaloupe left on their plates.

Sitting down, I put a hand on the arm of the closest teen. “I didn’t catch your names last night, girls. I’m Mace Bauer, by the way.’’

“Lauren,’’ the closest one mumbled. “She’s Amber.’’

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you,’’ I said.

“We’vegottago.’’ Amber’s words tumbled out as she tugged at Lauren’s sleeve.

“Okay, y’all be good, hear?’’ I said, as they stumbled over one another ru

As the girls left, Mama shoveled a final forkful of sausage patty into Sal’s mouth. Marty said, “What was that all about, Mace?’’

I lowered my voice. “I overheard the mama of one of those girls saying I suspect Lawton didn’t die of a heart attack. I don’t want that bit of gossip getting out of hand.’’

“Looks like the cat’s already out of the bag,’’ Maddie said, spooning up some biscuit and gravy.

“Mama told us about your suspicions, Mace. You might have tried just asking those two kids not to talk about it, instead of scaring them with those mean looks,’’ Marty said.

“Mace thinks she can intimidate people into doing what she wants, girls. It’s because she’s so tall,’’ Mama said, patting her napkin to a smear of grease on Sal’s jacket.

“Who’s tall?’’

I turned toward the voice behind me, and immediately clapped a hand on my stiff neck.

“Mornin’, Trey,’’ Mama said. “Why don’t you join us?’’

I resisted the urge to stab her in the hand with my plastic fork.

“We’re all so sorry about your daddy, hon,’’ Mama said.

Now I felt guilty for being mean to a man who was in mourning.

“Please, Trey. Sit down,’’ I said. “Did you ever meet my sisters? Maddie was a class ahead of you at Himmarshee High; Marty was a couple of years behind me.’’

Trey took one of the chairs the teens had forgotten when they fled. He removed his cowboy hat, put it on his lap, and shook both my sisters’ hands.

“I just came by to apologize for the way I acted last night.’’

Ohmigod! He wouldn’t do this in front of everybody, would he?

“Sal, I sure do appreciate you hauling me away to cool off before I got really nasty to Wyno

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Fuhgeddaboutit.’’ Sal waved his toothpick at Trey, a forgiving gesture. “You’re under a lot of stress.’’

“That doesn’t excuse it. Even before I found out Daddy died, I was already plastered last night. I wasn’t even able to take care of my little sister, Belle, when she needed me most.’’

He looked down at his hat, working the brim with his fingers. None of us spoke.

“I’ve been a mess these last few years, but I’m ready to change. They always say admitting you have a problem is the first step, right?’’ He raised his head, looking hopefully at me.

“Admitting it and doing something about it are two different things.’’ Maddie’s tone revealed that she disapproved of drinking, like she did so many other things. “My advice is to go home right now and pour out every drop. Just take and pour the bottles down the drain.’’

“Maddie, as much as Trey surely appreciates the counsel of someone who’s never had a drink, he doesn’t have time to go home right now,’’ I said. “We’re riding out when the fog lifts.’’

“Sorry to say, there’s nuthin’ left at home to pour out anyway,’’ Trey said. “I pretty much drank it all up.’’

He ducked his head. The shame on his face about broke my heart.

“What do you think made you start drinking so heavy, Trey?’’ Mama placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t remember your daddy being bad to drink.’’

“No, ma’am. My daddy was a lot of things that I’m not.’’

We all stared at our boots. I couldn’t help but notice Maddie’s feet looked like bulldozers, while Marty’s looked as dainty as a baby doll’s in the same style lace-up.

“Fadders and sons can be complicated,’’ Sal finally said, pointing the toothpick at Trey. “My dad was a decorated war hero. That’s a tough act to follow. I never felt I measured up. My own boy went in the opposite direction. He didn’t even try to walk in his old man’s footsteps. He dances for the New York City Ballet.’’

Sal looked around as if daring one of us to comment.

“He’s damn good, too.’’ He jammed the toothpick back in his mouth, clamping his lips around it.

“I just never knew if people liked me for myself, or because I was Lawton Bramble III.’’ Trey swung in his chair to face me, blue eyes beaming with sincerity. “Even with Austin, it was that way, Mace.’’

Uh-oh. Here it comes.

“Who’s Austin?’’ Marty asked.

“That’s the gal who called Mace a tramp last night when Mace and Trey were making out in the woods. Mace thinks Austin took a knife and shredded her tent and sleeping bag for revenge,’’ Mama said.

Earth, please swallow me now, I prayed.

“What?!!’’ came a chorus from Marty, Maddie, and Trey.

Mama took her Apricot Ice from her pocket and circled her lips. She folded her napkin in half and closed her mouth over it to blot.

“What?’’ she asked i

I mumbled out an explanation about Austin, not even sure of what I said.

Trey looked thoughtful. “I swear to God, I wouldn’t put it past her. The girl’s not the sharpest tool in the box, and she’s got a hell of a temper. Austin could start a fight in an empty house. Did she threaten you, Mace?’’

“Not in words, no.’’

“Well, I’m going to find out what’s what,’’ he said. “If it was Austin, she’ll pay for your tent and bag and whatever else she ruined.’’

“I can take care of myself.’’ I heard the huffiness in my own voice.

Marty took pity on me and changed the subject.

“Trey, you were saying you’re never sure if people like you for yourself,’’ her voice was soft, caring. “That must be really hard.’’

“I wouldn’t think it’s so hard,’’ Maddie said. “You’ve just got to make sure you give people something to like.’’

“Maddie knows all about that subject, Trey,’’ I said.

Before my big sister and I could really begin to bicker, one of the trail outriders loped up to the breakfast crowd. She pulled up on her horse’s reins, leaned back in the saddle, and whistled for everyone’s attention.

“Twenty minutes, everybody,’’ she yelled. “It’s clear enough to go, so we leave in twenty. Remember to stay behind the mule wagons.’’

She turned and sped off to spread the news to the rest of the camp. We all stood and started packing up our breakfast trash.

“I’ll take that,’’ Trey said, piling plates and napkins into his arms. “And, yes, Marty. It is hard. Folks have always looked at my family’s land and money, and thought I was lucky. They thought it was a breeze being Lawton Bramble III. But my daddy wore some pretty big boots. And no matter how hard I tried, I never seemed able to fill them.’’

As Trey carried our trash off toward the garbage cans, Marty tsked. “That is so sad.’’

“That’s one way of looking at it.’’ Maddie folded her arms as she watched him disappear. “Another is that Trey doesn’t have to worry so much now about those big ol’ boots of Lawton’s.’’