Mama Rides Shotgun

All the questions I wanted to ask felt trapped in the parched gully behind my tongue.

“So now you plan to shoot me?’’ I managed to choke out.

She didn’t answer, just rested her wrist on her crossed leg, keeping the gun low and trained on me. It wasn’t big, but at this range it was deadly. “I’ll scream and yell.’’ I swallowed. “You’ll get caught.’’

She tilted her head toward the far end of the mostly empty staging area. Whistles and hollers came from the riders showing off fancy moves.

“Between that noisy bunch and this gusty wind, no one will hear you, Mace.’’

I weighed that, knowing she was probably right. I decided not to press my luck. If I made no sudden moves, maybe I could talk Belle out of whatever she had pla

“Was all of this to cover for killing your daddy, Belle?’’

“You’d never understand.’’

“Try me.’’ I looked deep into her eyes, trying to appeal to whatever feeling might be there. They looked empty, cold as green ice. I pushed away the thought that if Belle shot me, those might be the last eyes I’d ever see.

She gave a little sigh. “Doc betrayed me, Mace. He helped me get rid of Daddy, and then he wanted me to confess. I couldn’t do it. If I went to prison, who’d take care of our land?’’

I didn’t answer. My mind stalled on what Belle said about Doc and her daddy.

“We argued and argued about it. You heard me with Doc that night in camp, near your tent. I ran off before you could find us fighting.’’

“But what . . .’’ I started to say.

She interrupted, words rushing out like a dam had burst. “Doc kept pushing me, Mace. I had to shoot him, before he told and ruined everything. I learned something, though. It wasn’t smart to leave Doc out in the open like that.’’

“Wyno

She nodded. “So, this time, you and I are going to take a walk. You stick real close. Pull anything, and I’ll shoot you where you stand. You know I’ll do it, too.’’

I had no doubt she would.

“Get up.’’ She lifted the gun’s barrel, gesturing at me to rise.

“You should do like Doc said. Turn yourself in. He survived, and he’ll talk. What will Trey think of his little sister then?’’

Something flickered in her eyes.

“Trey doesn’t know, does he?’’

She shook her head. “No. But I did it for both of us. Trey couldn’t have done it. I love my brother, but he’s weak. Daddy always said so. And Trey’ll be the first to agree. Now stand up.’’

I did as she said. With her gun in my spine, Belle marched me toward the water. I took a last look at Val. I smelled sea air and the smoke from the brisket I wouldn’t get to eat. Spotting a cha

My mind raced furiously, thinking up and discarding hopeless plans. I’d find a rock, I thought, and then realized Belle would shoot me in the back as I stooped to get it. I’d whirl, and kick the gun from her hand. And wind up shot in the face, with Mama mourning over my unsightly corpse.

When we got to the bank of the river, every detail imprinted itself on my brain. The purple flowers of a railroad vine, tangled in green leaves against the sand. White sails catching wind on a catamaran, heading for open water. The screech of a seagull, crying a warning.

In reflex, my bird-watcher’s eyes shifted for a moment toward the gull’s call. And that’s when I noticed the sun glinting off something golden. In the near distance, Austin crept toward us in her sparkly vest and sequined hat. She laid a finger to her lips, just as I’d done to her that night outside the Brambles’ RV. She lifted her other hand to show me a cow whip, tip snaking off onto the shell-flecked ground.

I raised my voice to Belle over the wind, hoping my face hadn’t betrayed what I’d seen.

“Please, Belle! Don’t do it!’’ I prayed that between the gusts and my yelling, she wouldn’t hear Austin sneaking up.

Belle cocked the hammer and put her finger on the trigger.

Austin streaked forward like a golden arrow, cow whip unfurling in a graceful arc.

I heard a loud pop, and my eyes involuntarily squeezed shut. Was I saved or was I shot?

Belle screamed in pain as the whip lashed her hand. Her shot went wild and she dropped the gun. I dove to the sand, rolled, and hit her legs with the full force of my body. Knees buckling, she went down hard. The breath left her lungs with a whoosh.

“I’ve got her gun,’’ Austin called out. “You all right, Mace?’’

“Yes, and I’ve got her.’’ I straddled Belle’s body wrestler-style, my thighs pi

Sticking Belle’s .22 into her waistband, Austin worked the whip again, and then again and again. In olden times, three cracks of a cow whip signaled danger or an emergency. In this case, I think she was showing off. But I didn’t mind. Austin most likely saved my life.

“I see you got your whip back. You’re awfully good for someone who was just ‘practicing’ the day you ‘accidentally’ hit my horse.’’

“Yeah.’’ She studied the whip, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry about that. Your tent, too.’’

“I think this makes us even,’’ I said.

Austin shifted her gaze to Belle, who turned her head away. She pressed her cheek into the coarse sand and sobbed, narrow shoulders jerking.

“A little late for crying, isn’t it, Belle?’’ Austin sneered. “Mace had Carlos first. He’s not worth getting yourself thrown into jail over. I’ve been mad at Mace, too. But I’d never pull a gun on her. What in the hell is wrong with you?’’

Austin thought my near-murder was over a man! I was grateful for her timing and expert aim. But if brains were blue ink, she didn’t have enough to dot an i.

___

“Oh, honey. I can’t believe I almost lost you!’’

Mama sat with me on a bench by the river, stroking my hair. She fluffed, and then re-fluffed my greasy bangs, and I didn’t even pull away. Maddie pressed herself against my other side, clutching my hand. Marty had flitted around nervously, finally lighting on the ground at my feet. She gripped my knee with both hands, like a bird hanging onto its perch in a hurricane.

“I’m fine, y’all,’’ I told them for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Austin had left me pi

The Fort Pierce police came and took Belle into custody. She sat now in the back of a squad car, ducking her head from the stares of a growing crowd of riders and parade spectators.

“I knew all along it was one of the Brambles,’’ the big-bottomed cowgirl said to her friend with the permanent curls.

“Is it true Belle shot Doc Abel?’’ I overheard a latecomer ask her.

“That’s right.’’ The cowgirl spoke with the authority of someone who’d learned the news a few moments earlier. “And killed her daddy, too.’’

I still didn’t know exactly how, or more importantly why, Belle had done the things she did. She’d clammed up after Austin hit her with the whip.

“Are you sure she said she ‘got rid’ of Lawton, Mace?’’ Maddie looked at me doubtfully.