“I’m a police officer,’’ Carlos kept saying, as he elbowed his way through the jostling mass.
Carlos did what he could for an unconscious Doc. A rider who was a nurse stepped forward to help, checking Doc’s vital signs and applying pressure to the gunshot wound. Then, Carlos assigned a few onlookers to help Sal with crowd control. The shooting scene was nearly impossible to secure. People had already trampled all over, beginning with Wynonna in her brown fringed boots.
As quickly as he could, with the rescue helicopter still in flight, Carlos turned his attention to her.
“Did you see who shot him, Wynonna?’’
She shook her head, eyes fastened on Doc and the blood leaking from his gut onto the nurse’s rolled-up towel. When Wynonna turned her face to Carlos, tears streaked her cheeks.
As she stood, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a tight hug. It looked more like he was checking Wynonna for a weapon than giving her comfort.
“Did Doc say anything?’’ he asked, stepping away from her.
“I think he was already out of it when I found him.’’ She rubbed a hand over her eyes, unaware Doc’s blood now streaked her forehead. “He just moaned and mumbled about being shot. Then, he said something else. It sounded like ‘I’m sorry.’ ’’
I glanced at my sisters. Maddie raised an eyebrow. Marty shrugged.
Wynonna was pale, and seemed to be swaying a bit.
“Can somebody find us a chair?’’ Carlos yelled to the crowd.
Within moments, he had a half dozen to choose from. He took one, faced it away from Doc and the nurse, and helped Wynonna sit down. As he did, he ran his hands from her calves to her ankles, giving the top of each boot a discreet pat. He might have been moving her legs to make her more comfortable. But I’d bet he was ruling out all the places she could have stashed a handgun.
He placed another of the chairs right next to her and sat down “Why don’t you tell me in your own words what happened?’’
She took in a shuddering breath. Placing her palms on her knees, she seemed to notice the blood on her hands for the first time. She scrubbed them hard across the fabric of her jeans.
“Wynonna?’’ Carlos prodded.
Finally, she began to speak in a robotic tone. “I left our RV, and was headed over to the trail boss’s campsite. We’ve set all the arrangements for Lawton’s funeral, and I thought maybe Jack would want to make an announcement about it at dinner.’’
Mama hobbled up to join us, using a hickory branch as a walking stick. Her desire to be in on the activity must have won out over her ankle pain. I leaned over and whispered, “A helicopter’s on the way for Doc, who got shot. Carlos is questioning Wynonna, who found him.’’
“Jesus H. Christ on a crutch,’’ Mama breathed.
“I was crossing the pasture when I saw Doc,’’ Wynonna continued. “I ran to him. When I saw the blood, and how bad he looked, I started yelling for help.’’
“And no one else was around when you arrived?’’
“Carlos, you’ve already asked me if I know who did it. I don’t.’’ Exasperation edged her voice. “When I ran up, Doc was on the ground. A cattle egret was the only other living creature I saw in this pasture.’’
“Did you hear anything?’’
“You mean besides the sound of these stupid Crackers all over camp with their cow whips? No, I didn’t.’’
She covered her eyes with a hand again. “I don’t understand who would have wanted to shoot him, you know?’’
She turned to stare at Doc, and all of our eyes followed hers. The nurse leaned over him, urging him to hang on.
“Will he be okay?’’ Wynonna asked Carlos, her voice small and scared.
Just about then, the chop-chop-chop of the helicopter sounded in the distance.
Carlos looked up with the rest of the crowd. “They’ll do what they can.’’
___
Dundee County sheriff’s deputies circulated through the camp, looking for a weapon, and for witnesses who might help explain the events leading up to Doc’s shooting. So far, they hadn’t found anyone who knew anything. Except for Wynonna, that is.
Carlos pulled me aside and asked me to take her back to her camp and keep her there while he briefed the local authorities. My sisters and Mama came with us.
The inside of the Brambles’ RV was all expensive-looking dark wood. The plush carpet was hunter green. The living area featured leather furniture and a flat-screen TV. The sink in the galley was porcelain.
“Can I get y’all something to drink? How ’bout coffee?’’ Wynonna asked, pulling out cups from an oak cabinet in the galley.
“Hot chocolate?’’ Maddie asked hopefully.
Mama punched her thigh. “Whatever you have is fine, Wynonna,’’ she said pointedly.
When the coffee was made, Wynonna started to pour the first cup. Her hand shook so much she spilled it on the countertop. Maddie grabbed a paper towel. Marty took the pot when Wynonna set it down.
“Why don’t you have a seat?’’ Marty said. “We’ll get this.’’
As Marty poured and Maddie mopped, I got up and opened the small ’fridge, looking for half-and-half. The only thing inside was a couple of shriveled apples and a chilled bottle of Champagne. French. I wondered about the special occasion it was intended to celebrate.
Rustling around in the galley, I found sugar, powdered creamer, and a spoon. I put out an open bag of chocolate chip cookies. Marty got up and arranged them prettily on a plate. Maddie scarfed down the first one before we even sat down again.
“Thanks,’’ Wynonna said, looking at us gratefully. “I guess I’m in a pretty bad state.’’
“Not without reason,’’ I said. “You suffered a terrible loss; and now you’re the one who finds Doc. You’ve handled yourself better than many people could.’’
Marty took a bird-like nibble of a cookie. “I think I’d be in the hospital if all of that happened to me.’’
Mama said, “No, you wouldn’t, Marty. The Lord always gives us the strength we need.’’
Looking at Wynonna, who seemed ten years older than she had just a few days ago, I wondered if the Man upstairs had shorted her on that ration of strength.
“Honey, I sure do hate to bother you.’’ Mama shifted to stretch her leg. “But do you mind if I use that little throw pillow to prop up my foot? The one that says When Things Get Tough, the Tough Go Shopping?’’
Wynonna said, “I’m so sorry, Rosalee! I plumb forgot about your ankle!’’
I truly hoped that with Doc Abel underway to the hospital, Mama wouldn’t launch into a dissertation about her sprain.
“Oh, it’s fine, honey,’’ she said, with a wave.
I let out a sigh of relief. Too soon.
“It’s just throbbing a little with all this walking around. Doc Abel warned me to stay off it.’’
At the mention of Doc’s name, Mama went quiet along with the rest of us.
“I know he’ll be all right,’’ Marty finally said, patting Wynonna’s hand. “Those air ambulances are something. And, they can do amazing things in emergency rooms these days.’’
Wynonna smiled shakily at Marty, and then turned to Mama.
“I do feel awful about what happened with Shotgun, Rosalee.’’
“I know you do, honey. And Belle came by to say the same.’’
“It’s sure strange y’all ran into the one thing that poor horse can’t abide,’’ Wynonna said.
My brain sent a signal to the hairs on my neck.
“What do you mean?’’ I asked.
“I thought Shotgun was the greatest horse in the world,’’ Maddie said.
“Well, he is, except for a fear of bees. When he was a colt, he knocked over a beekeeper’s hive in the pasture. He got stung all over. Most horses don’t like bees. But with Shotgun, it’s a real terror. The creatures make him act pure crazy. Didn’t Belle mention that?’’