“That’s not always easy for the old blood to do,’’ Sal said.
He’d been quiet, fooling with his beloved cigar case. He lined up his cigars on a log, and then loaded them into the leather case. Then he removed them again. He likes to play with the stogies as much as smoke them.
He peered inside the empty carrier. Upending it, he shook it hard.
“My stars and garters, Sally! What are you doing?’’ Mama asked.
“There’s some tobacco caught underneath one of the seams on the bottom,’’ he said. “I’m trying to get it out.’’
“It’s a cigar case, Sal. It’s bound to collect tobacco,’’ Maddie said.
He knocked the carrier against his camp chair, looked inside, then knocked it some more.
“I know that, Maddie. I want it to be clean!’’
He hit it firmly against the chair again. I’m sure the final few taps were solely to annoy my big sister.
I glanced at Mama to see if she thought so, too. Her head was cocked to listen, and she wore a puzzled expression.
“What?’’ I asked her.
The expression was gone as quickly as it came. Her blank eyes now focused on me.
“Nothing,’’ she said. “I was about to think of something important, but then I lost my train of thought. I guess I’m having one of those senior moments a few years early.’’
“Fuhgeddaboutit, Rosie. You’ll be the world’s sexiest senior citizen.’’ Sal planted a loud, sloppy kiss on Mama’s lips.
“Ewww,’’ my sisters and I groaned.
A stiff wind blew off the Indian River, snapping parade flags and banners, and carrying the smell of the sea. Some of the horses pranced about, nervous over new sounds and scents. Their riders worked to steady them. Nobody wanted to make headlines as the Cracker Trail participant who plowed into a group of parade-goers in Fort Pierce.
We were mounted and waiting for the signal to go, assembled in a large field serving as the parade staging area on the outskirts of downtown. I watched a petite rider wrestle with a big, skittish Appaloosa. The poor girl had probably spent the last week getting her horse accustomed to the crack of cow whips. Now, the Appaloosa looked ready to bolt for the bridge over the Intracoastal Waterway, not stopping until it got to the wide beach and the Atlantic Ocean beyond.
I heard a syrupy voice beside me.
“That’s a lot of animal for such a little girl.’’ It was Austin, sounding like we were the very best of friends.
“Hmmmm,’’ I answered.
I edged Val away from Austin’s Arabian. She’d braided golden thread in the horse’s mane, a match to her own sequined hatband. She also wore a glittery gold vest, showing off her tiny waist and ample bustline. So much for authentic Florida Cracker garb.
“Are you still mad at me, Mace?’’
“Not mad. Just wary.’’
“I’m sorry about the bottle.’’ She looked down and picked at the leather of her reins. “I don’t know what gets into me. When I get angry like that, it’s like a spell takes over. I’m not myself.’’
“You ought to try to find the antidote for those spells, Austin. They’re pretty scary.’’
She ignored my advice-giving. “I really did appreciate it that you didn’t make a big deal about our little scuffle the other night.’’
“By ‘little scuffle,’ you mean when you threatened to fillet me with a broken bottle?’’
She nodded, casting her eyes down at the reins again.
“Forget it,’’ I said. “It’s over.’’
She raised her pretty face at me. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Mace. I feel like I blew it. I was hoping you and I could still be friends.’’
I stared at her. Sincerity oozed from every pore. And, finally, I was fed up. I was fed up with all the crazy and dangerous things that had happened on the ride. I was tired of people who lied and left out and twisted the truth. And, especially, I was sick to death of the nutcase now smiling at me hopefully from under her stupid, sparkly hat.
“We’re not gonna be friends, Austin,’’ I said flatly. “I’d sooner jump naked into a swimming pool filled with snapping turtles than spend another second with you. In fact, I think you need to get yourself some psychological help before you wind up killing somebody. If you haven’t already killed anybody, that is.’’
The smile left her face like a shift in the wind. Anger sparked in her eyes. Uh-oh, I thought.
“Looks like the parade’s getting started.’’ I began to maneuver Val into the line of horses and wagons that was forming.
Austin screwed up her mouth like she was going to spit at me, and then turned her horse into my path. Val was blocked in by riders on either side. Austin kept pushing her Arabian closer, forcing us to the gutter of the street. Val stumbled over a high concrete curb. I bobbled in the saddle, but held on as she regained her footing.
“You crazy witch,’’ I said to Austin. “I should have sent you to jail.’’
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Mace. What’s a little horseplay between friends?’’ Her smile was chilling.
Spurring her horse, she yelled over her shoulder, “And you better watch who you call crazy.’’
Maddie rode up. “Who’s crazy?’’ She watched Austin dart away through the crowd.
“She is.’’ I was shaking, more from anger than from fear. “Austin’s a total head case.’’
___
“I’m so glad we made it, girls!’’
My sisters and I flanked Mama in her mule wagon, as we made our turn onto Orange Avenue. We were on horseback. Mama was in the passenger seat with her ankle on a pillow, doling out waves like Queen Elizabeth in a peony-pink cowgirl hat.
Spectators lined both sides of the parade route, whooping and cheering as the Cracker Trail riders streamed past. Historic murals and sturdy brick buildings hinted at olden times. Waterfront condos and sleek yachts in the city marina spoke to the new Florida.
Ahead, the crowd erupted into shouts and loud applause. Maddie’s eyebrows went up.
“You got me,’’ I shrugged.
We angled our horses for a better view. Wynonna had reached the downtown roundabout on Indian River Drive. She reared up on a perfect palomino, the animal’s forelegs pawing at air. The breeze ruffled the horse’s golden mane and tail. Wynonna, dressed all in white except for her red alligator boots, demonstrated complete control. She waved her white hat over her head.
The crowd roared its approval.
“So much for the ban on theatrics in the parade,’’ Maddie said dryly.
“She’s a heck of a rider,’’ Marty said. “You’ve got to give her that.’’
“That horse is gorgeous and well-trained.’’ I sniffed. “He’d make anybody look good.’’
Mama said, “Speaking of Wynonna, what did y’all find out about that business with Johnny?’’
I hadn’t had time to snoop. I looked at my sisters. They shook their heads.
“Well,’’ Mama said, “I saw Johnny’s food trailer pulling into the park where we’ll have our picnic. I’m betting we’ll get the full scoop before dessert.’’
I wasn’t so sure. Johnny hadn’t been inclined so far toward revelations. I didn’t think our quadruple-teaming him was going to change his mind.
“Ooooh, look girls! There’s Sally!’’ Mama doffed her pink hat, shaking it frantically in his direction. “Yoo-hoo! I’m over here, honey!’’
He aimed a video camera at us. He needed an extra light to compensate for the glare off his neon Western wear. “You’re looking good, girls,’’ he yelled. “Now, everybody wave hello! Smile, Mace!’’