Dark River Road (5 page)

“She had nine pups last night. The last one, it’s so little. A male. The others keep pushing it out of the way.” Chantry paused, not sure how to continue.

“And you want to save it.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Can’t save everything, boy.”

“I know. But I can save this one. Tell me how.”

Dempsey pursed his lips, rocked back and forth a few times. “What’s ole Rainey say?”

“The pups are worth three hundred each. He won’t want to lose one.”

“Hm.” Dempsey’s skepticism was obvious. Not that Chantry blamed him. Rainey often did inexplicable things. After rocking a few more times, Dempsey said, “Need bitches milk for it to get enough. Feed it six, seven times a day yourself until it gets strong enough to make it on his own. Might make it, might not.”

“Where do I get the milk?” Chantry had a sudden vision of trying to milk Belle like a cow or goat. That’d be weird.

“Buy it. Vets have it. It’s cheapest in powder, but comes in cans too.”

“Oh. So, Doc Malone would have it?”

“Yeah, most likely. I might have an old can of it here somewhere from when I raised beagle pups. I’ll look for it. Won’t last long, but should get you through until Malone opens his doors tomorrow.” He set his iced tea on his knee, fingers balancing it lightly. “It’s not easy to take on feedin’ a pup, Chantry. And Rainey most likely won’t thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for Rainey.”

Dempsey nodded. “All right. Think Rainey’ll pay for the milk?”

Probably not. Chantry chewed his bottom lip a minute, then looked up. “Got any extra work I can do?”

“Sure. Be at the end of the street by six in the mornin’. Bring heavy gloves. We got a lot of diggin’ to do.”

Chantry was right about Rainey not wanting to pay for milk. When he took Belle out some of the cheap food Rainey’d brought home for her that afternoon, Beau and Rafe were out there too, looking at the pups.

“Might just as well drown that li’l un,” Beau said. “It ain’t gonna live anyway.”

Chantry set the pan of food down carefully and looked up at Rainey. He was nodding his head like he agreed.

“And lose three hundred dollars?” Chantry said as if surprised, but he felt all tight inside.

“Huh,” Rafe said, “lose that much just tryin’ to keep it alive. Cut losses, I say.”

Rainey nudged the tiny pup with his boot toe. It made a weak sound and barely moved. “Yeah. It ain’t gonna make it.”

“Yes, it will.” Chantry stepped forward to put himself between Rainey and the pup. “I’ll help.”

Beau gave him a funny look, kinda surprised and suspicious all at once. He was near as big as Rainey but more solid, thick through the shoulders and just as freckled, big splotches across his square-jawed face. Rafe was taller, not as brawny, with close-set eyes in a thin face. Both of them looked at him like he’d just said something really stupid.

“What you wanna go and do that for?” Beau asked. “You think you’re gonna get the money for it?”

“No. Nothin’ like that. I
 . . .
it just seems like a waste to not try to save it. Won’t cost much to feed it a little extra. I’ll make sure it gets it. Hate to lose that three hundred dollars.”

It was the thought of the three hundred dollars that finally swayed Rainey, as Chantry had hoped it would.

He gave him a narrow look but nodded. “You can try, but I ain’t wastin’ a lot of time or money on it. And don’t be thinkin’ you’ll get to keep it if it lives, neither. I’ll sell it first if I can.”

“I don’t. Won’t. It’s okay.” He put his head down so none of them would see his relief. It didn’t matter if the dog got sold as much as it mattered that it had a chance at living.

Beau gave him a shove that almost knocked him into the pups. “Candy ass.”

He didn’t care. He let it pass without saying anything. It wouldn’t do any good anyway. Not with Rainey standing there watching and listening. He’d only laugh like he usually did when Beau and Rafe ganged up on him. He liked to brag about how well his boys were doing, making good money as rod busters, buying new trucks and giving him money sometimes. Chantry thought they probably spent more than they made, but that wasn’t his concern.

He’d already mixed up the bitch’s milk just like the directions said, and when they all left to spend father-son quality time over at the Tap Room, he took it out to the pen.

“Come here, little bit,” he murmured to the tiny pup, and lifted it in his hand. The pink mouth nuzzled his palm. He remembered what Mama had called it. It did look almost like a shadow, a bare whisper of life. “Come on, little Shadow. Let’s get you fat.”

He took a soft rag and dipped it into the milk, then let the pup suck at it. It wasn’t the best substitute, but all he could manage for the moment. He just felt so big and clumsy and the pup felt so small. He tried squeezing milk into the little mouth but that didn’t seem to work well either.

“That ain’t gonna work, Chantry.”

When he looked up, Tansy knelt beside the pen. She grinned at him. “Daddy sent me down with this. I used to use it to feed my dolls.” She held up a small plastic bottle, waggling it between her thumb and finger. “And I can help. Everybody knows girls are better than boys at this kind of stuff.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Move over.”

Tansy opened the gate and stepped inside. She wore a pair of yellow shorts and a bandana top that left her middle bare. Tansy was Dempsey’s daughter, his only child, but she looked more like her mother. She had pretty light skin and eyes like chunks of polished amber, with thick heavy lashes. She’d matured earlier than other fourteen year old girls, too. She already had a chest that made the boys stare. She wore her hair long most of the time, but now it was pulled back from her face into a ponytail high on her head. It wasn’t at all kinky, but soft and wavy and not nearly as dark as Chantry’s own hair. Sometimes in the sun, it almost had a red shine to it.

She knelt beside him, long legs folded up under her, bare toes digging into the dirt. “Here. You’re holding it like it’s gonna break. Give her to me.”

“It’s a he.”

“Fine. Give
him
to me, butthead.”

He handed Shadow over, and she took the puppy gently, cradling it in her slender palm as if she had indeed done this a lot. Tansy’s long fingers worked the puppy into position while Chantry filled the baby bottle with some of the milk. He handed it to her, and she turned the pup and slid the end of the nipple into its searching mouth. Greedy sucking sounds quickly drained the bottle. Chantry put more in it and handed it over again. This time some was left.

“There you go. That’s all there is to it,” Tansy said and looked up at him.

“Don’t you have to
 . . .
burp him or something?”

“Only if you intend to put diapers on him. Don’t you know nothin’?”

“Obviously not.” He sat back with his spine pressed against the side of the garage. “You do pretty good for a girl.”

“I do pretty good for anybody.” Sometimes Tansy talked that way, like she had all the confidence in the world. Only Chantry knew any different. They’d grown up together. He knew she felt a lot like he did. Two years ago her mama, Miss Julia, had died, and since then they’d talked a lot about how it felt to have only one parent. Tansy said Chantry was lucky to still have his mama. He said she was lucky to still have her daddy. Both of them knew what they meant.

“You like this color?” Tansy stuck out one foot so he could see the polish on her toenails. He squinted at her foot. Her toes were neon pink.

“Looks like you’ve been stompin’ on strawberries.”

She stuck out her tongue at him and he grinned. They watched the puppies a while, then he cleaned up after Belle and gave her fresh water. Tansy helped, knowing what to do without him saying anything. She was always good that way.

“So what now?” she asked. “Rainey gone for a while?”

“Probably. Sunday night services at the Tap Room.”

There was no Blue Law in Quinton County that prohibited the sale of alcohol on Sundays. Besides, the sheriff owed his job and salary to old man Quinton, and old man Quinton owned the Tap Room.

“Daddy said you’re gonna go to work with him in the morning.”

“Yeah. You gonna go, too?”

“Maybe.” She cut her eyes at him, lashes low to hide what she was thinking. It was such a girl trick. He waited, and in a minute she said, “We’re gonna do some work at Six Oaks.”

Damn. He frowned, looked down at his feet, kicked at a dirt clod. Chris Quinton’s house. He hated going out there. But he’d already asked for work, and he’d given his word. And he sure needed the money.

“You think Chris will be there?” Tansy asked.

“I hope not.”

“I hope he is. He
 . . .
looks at me sometimes like he wants to
 . . .
to talk to me.”

“Don’t be stupid. That ain’t what he wants to do.”

“Jealous?” Tansy arched a brow and put one hand on her hip, poking out her lower lip at him. She was teasing and he knew it, but it still made him mad.

“Damn, Tansy, you’re smarter than to like Chris Quinton. He’s a asshole.”

Tansy stood up straight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Chantry Callahan. He took me for a ride the other day in his new truck, and all we did was talk.”

“Jeez, are you crazy? You went off alone with him?” He stared at her. She stared back at him, her eyes all slitted like one of the stray cats that always hung around her house.

“Why not? He didn’t hurt me. He didn’t even touch me. He just
 . . .
talked to me.”

It made him uneasy, but he couldn’t say exactly why. He just knew Chris wouldn’t be nice to Tansy unless he wanted something from her. He was pretty sure he knew what, but how did he say that to Tansy without her getting all mad again? She flipped her ponytail and thinned her lips.

“Look, Chantry, I know what you’re thinking. Boys like him don’t ever look at girls like me. I know that. But
he
does. So what if I want to see if Chris really likes me? It can’t hurt.”

“You’re wrong. Chris
 . . .
he’s just not the nice guy he pretends to be. It’s only a mask he puts on when he wants something. Tansy, look—just don’t go off alone with him, okay? Don’t get in his truck anymore, and
 . . .
and if you want to see him I’ll go with you.”

“Oh yeah, right. I’d be smack in the middle of a fight then. Why’d y’all fight last year, anyway? You never did tell me.”

“He’s a asshole. That’s why.”

Tansy shrugged. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’m going home. See you in the morning.”

He watched her walk off through the side yard and down the street, bare feet flashing pink and tan through the high weeds along the road. As bad as he wanted money, he didn’t want to go to Six Oaks in the morning. He’d just hope Chris wouldn’t be at home.

Mama had packed him a lunch
in a brown paper bag. He stood at the end of the road to wait for Dempsey, listening to the morning sounds of birds just coming awake. The day smelled fresh and new, not hot yet like it would be later. He’d gotten up real early to feed Shadow again, and the pup seemed a lot stronger. Mama had said she’d feed him a few times during the day, too. He should earn enough money to buy plenty of milk for him, and good food for Belle instead of the cheap crap Rainey bought for the dog. Not that Rainey’d notice, or care if he did notice. He’d be like Beau and Rafe and think Chantry was crazy. Maybe he was, ‘cause he sure didn’t want to be at Six Oaks today.