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“There’s Johnny, Mace!’’ Maddie jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow. “Let’s go talk to him.’’
“Don’t be so rough, Maddie! I have eyes. I can see the man.’’
“Stop squabbling,’’ Marty said. “Hey, do you think Johnny has any hot chocolate left?’’
The three of us had been on our way to Maddie’s tent to turn in. About twenty feet from the food trailer, we stopped and watched as Johnny finished his cleanup.
The mini-concert was over. Sal and Mama had headed off to Home Sweet Cadillac. Carlos must have caught up again with his fellow lawman from the FDLE, because he hadn’t come to the show. And, after Trey’s drunken scene, none of the Brambles returned either.
Marty shivered in the chilly air. She’s only about half mine or Maddie’s size, and her body never seems to have enough energy to keep her blood circulating right. Her hands and feet, especially, are always cold.
“Can’t hurt to ask Johnny for something warm,’’ I said to her.
“Forget the hot chocolate,’’ Maddie whispered in my ear. “I want to hear how Lawton stole his woman.’’
Johnny answered our hellos with a frown.
“I don’t have any more pie for your mama. Tell her I said she’s had enough, hurt ankle or not.’’
I was about to take offense on Mama’s behalf, when Marty chirped, “Thanks so much for spoiling her, Johnny. Sometimes Mama’s sweet tooth makes her forget her manners. I hope she didn’t get too greedy?’’
“Well, three pieces is a lot of pie,’’ Johnny grumbled.
I didn’t mention Mama had actually eaten four pieces over the day, plus the chocolate chip cookies.
“Well, we appreciate it,’’ Marty said.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got any hot chocolate?’’ Maddie asked, as direct as any Northerner.
Johnny stopped wiping down a folding table and looked at her hard.
“Sorry,’’ Maddie said. “I was just asking because our little sister is iced to the bone. She’s prone to catching colds.’’
Marty gave a delicate cough. Johnny caved.
“Oh, all right. I’ve got about one cup left in the urn. I was just about to toss it.’’
He put a mug on the table and lifted a silver serving urn almost upside down. The final cup flowed. He’d stripped off his long sleeves to a white T-shirt underneath. Cords of muscle stood out on his thick arms. If Johnny had wanted to go up against Trey, he probably could have taken him, especially with all the booze Trey had obviously consumed.
“You showed a lot of restraint tonight,’’ I said. “Trey was itching for a fight.’’
Johnny stared into the dark distance.
“Well,’’ he finally said, “his father was a good friend, once. And I won’t take advantage of a man who’s mixed grief with liquor. That’s a bad combination.’’
I wondered whether he spoke from personal experience.
“That sure sounded like a lot of nonsense Trey was yelling, didn’t it?’’ I asked, watching Johnny’s face to see what it might reveal.
“Hmmm,’’ he said, showing nothing as he handed Marty the cup of chocolate.
Maddie decided to go with directness again: “Was there any truth to what Trey said?’’
Johnny clattered the urn upright onto the table. I hoped its parts weren’t breakable.
“Well?’’ I asked. “Was there?’’
A vein throbbed at his temple. He looked at me like he wanted to take that swing he hadn’t taken at Trey.
“I’m not in the habit of telling my personal business to strangers.’’ His eyes were dark; his voice cold. “Now, if y’all don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.’’
Marty had been quiet, sipping steadily from the mug he gave her. She drained it and put it down on the table. “Thanks for the chocolate,’’ she said.
He turned his back, crossed the cook site, and stomped up the stairs into the food trailer.
“Well, that was rude!’’ Maddie said.
“Shhh!’’ Marty scolded. “He’ll hear you.’’
As we left, Maddie and I each took one of Marty’s elbows, pulling her close to share the warmth of our bodies.
“Did y’all notice anything funny about Johnny?’’ she asked, once we’d put ample distance between us and his trailer.
“He was in a T-shirt, even though it’s cold,’’ Maddie offered.
“His eyes were hard,’’ I added.
“Think about his hands,’’ Marty said.
I’d been concentrating on Johnny’s face. When Maddie didn’t speak either, Marty said, “His right hand was red and swollen.’’
“So?’’ Maddie said. “He works around hot food and fire. He probably burned it.’’
Marty said, “Maybe so.’’
“What else, Marty?’’ I asked.
“Well, I just thought it looked an awful lot like my hand did that time in the orange grove, when I got stung by those bees.’’
Marty crouched at the entrance to the tent, nerves showing as she shone and re-shone the flashlight into the corners. Maddie and I had already laid the sleeping bags outside, turning them inside out.
“See, Marty?’’ I said. “No snakes.’’
She peered inside a bag. “I know I’m being a scaredy cat,’’ she said. “I’m sorry.’’
“Don’t you apologize, Marty. The one who should be sorry is the one who stuffed that rattlesnake in Mace’s jacket.’’ Maddie gave her own bag a good shake. “And he—or she—will be sorry once we find out who it was.’’
“My money’s on Austin,’’ I said, tossing my bag onto the tent’s canvas floor. “I know she snapped that whip at Val on purpose. She’s also the best candidate for shredding my tent.’’
Marty followed my bag inside, the flashlight’s beam strafing any possible hiding place. “Jealousy is a good motive, Mace. But what about her snake phobia?’’
“Oh please, Marty! You are so gullible. Can’t you just see Austin pitching a fit at that reptile house so that big, strong Trey would take her in his arms to comfort her?’’ Stretching my legs half out the zippered door, I pulled off my heavy boots. “Austin’s exactly the type of woman who would pull that damsel-in-distress crap.’’
“We all know you’re not that type, Mace.’’ Maddie put a toothbrush and a bottle of water on top of her sleeping bag. “Would it kill you to pretend, just a little, that you could use some help from Carlos? Men like to be needed, you know. And you about bit off his head when Shotgun threw Mama.’’
I made a face, but I wasn’t sure she could see me in the lantern light.
“I’m rolling my eyes at you, Maddie,’’ I said. “By the way, how come you never simper around, all helpless, with men?’’
“I don’t need to, Mace. I already have a husband.’’
“It must be this relic of a tent,’’ I said. “I think somebody just opened a time warp into 1950.’’
“Could you two please stop bickering?’’ Marty put a hand on each of our arms. “You’re making my head hurt.’’
Maddie and I were quiet for a few moments, like two kids reprimanded by their favorite teacher. I tugged off my jeans, leaving on my socks and long undies to sleep in. Maddie went outside to brush her teeth. Marty wrapped a woolen scarf around her neck, tucking the ends into the collar of a long-sleeved thermal T-shirt.
“Hand me one of those flashlights, would you, Mace?’’ Maddie leaned in. “I need to use the little girl’s room before bed.’’