Mama Rides Shotgun Read Online Free PDF

intelligent.
    “Well?’’ she said.
    Finally, Wynonna spoke. “Belle, why don’t you sit down? Doc Abel has something he needs to tell you.’’
    ___
    The news about her father’s death left Belle’s body rigid, her face pale. She gripped the arms of a cane-back chair like she was afraid it was going to fly away on her. The veins atop her hands bulged out, blue-grey against fair, sun-freckled skin.
    “I want to go to Daddy’s cook site right now,’’ she said.
    “Honey, I don’t think you should . . .’’
    “Right now.’’ Belle interrupted Mama. Her lower lip quivered, but her eyes were dry.
    “All right, then. This is Rosalee, Belle.’’ Doc nodded toward Mama. “She and I will take you over to see your father.’’ He glanced at Wynonna. “Are you up to making the call to the funeral home?’’
    Pressing her lips together, Wynonna nodded.
    “I wrote the number for you on the pad in the kitchen, by the phone,’’ Doc said.
    After Doc left with Mama and Belle, the big living room was quiet, except for Trey’s snores. Wynonna’s voice was a low murmur from the kitchen. Here, it was just me and Trey, sleeping off his drunk. I hated to admit it, but he was still a handsome guy—even with a line of drool on his chin. Was it a bar fight, or something else, that had left him scratched and bruised? Where were the buttons off his shirt, which hung open to reveal his smooth chest?
    I sat and studied Trey, like he was an animal in the wild. On the side, I make a little extra money trapping nuisance critters for newcomers. These are people who move to Himmarshee imagining they’ll love the country, until the country comes to call. And then they’re desperate to evict it, from the attic or the swimming pool or whatever part of their home the country has crashed.
    My business depends on understanding animals well enough to predict their behavior. I like to do the same with the human animal, but that’s usually a lot more complicated.
    I understood how Trey grew up: Money. Privilege. God-given talent. But I couldn’t have predicted this behavior: Drunk. Passed out. Failing to achieve his potential. He seemed wounded. I always stop to help injured animals. I just hoped Trey wouldn’t bite.
    “Mace?’’ Wynonna’s voice snapped me out of my reverie. She handed me a cup of coffee, and put one for herself on an end table mounted on a wagon wheel. “Thanks for sticking around.’’
    “Don’t mention it,’’ I said. “Listen, would you mind if I used your phone? I’ll keep it short. I just want to let my sisters know Mama and I are okay, in case they hear something happened on the Cracker Trail.’’
    Waving me toward the kitchen, she sank into a chair next to the couch. Wynonna looked like she could use that cup of coffee.
    Fortunately, I reached Maddie’s answering machine. No half-hour back-and-forth about how if Mama and I were more careful, we wouldn’t be in the position of finding another dead body, and by the way, we should watch out for snakes if we’re foolhardy enough to sleep out in the wilderness in a tent. At the sound of the beep, I simply said:
    “Maddie, it’s Mace. It looks like Lawton Bramble had a fatal heart attack just as the Cracker Trail riders were arriving on his land. Wanted to let you know Mama and I are fine. I’m not sure if the rest of the ride is off or on, but I’ll be in touch. Be sure and tell Marty everything’s okay. We haven’t seen a single snake.’’
    That last part was a lie. But I didn’t want to worry our little sister, Marty.
    I used the toilet and washed up, using a bathroom off the kitchen. By the time I was done, my coffee had gone cold on the counter. I nuked it in the microwave, looking for the sugar bowl while I waited. I added two teaspoons to my cup, and then rooted around in the ’fridge for some half-and-half. All I saw was skim milk. I’d sooner drink it black than ruin good coffee with that thin gruel.
    Carrying my cup, I