Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (2 page)

“Did it bite you?” The girl reached Andy and helped him to stand.

“Keep Calvin away from it.”

“Go, Calvin,” she yelled angrily. “Go!” She stamped her foot.

The shaggy dog backed away and slunk under the porch. He didn't understand Leona's reason for being angry.
He knew better than to bite into a stinking skunk.

“I've got to bury it.”

“Did it bite you?” Leona's voice quivered with fear.

“I've got to bury it,” Andy said again. “Calvin might take a notion to drag it off. Skunks don't come out in daylight unless they're sick.”

“Rabies?”

“Could be. But there hasn't been any around here in a while.”

“I'll get a shovel. Watch Calvin.”

“I'll bury it after I get my …” His words trailed as the horror of what happened settled upon him. “That was a good shot, Lee.” His trembling voice squeezed through his tightened throat.

“I didn't shoot. I didn't have time.”

“Then who?”

“I don't know. I didn't see anyone.”

“It came from the woods.”

Andy scanned the edge of the timber from where the mysterious shot had come. As he watched, a man carrying a rifle rode out of the timber on a big buckskin horse. Andy squinted his eyes to get a better look at him. He was sure that he wasn't anyone he had seen before, nor was the horse familiar. The rider wore a dusty black Stetson and a blue shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

The horse reached the yard. The size of the man riding him struck a chord in Andy's memory. He looked into the dark, somber face and recognized him. A day or so ago, driving a big Hudson Super-Six, he had stopped for gas.

“Howdy. Thanks for killing the skunk.” Andy choked out the words. “It's not goin to smell very good around here for a while.”

“Did it bite you?”

“It might have. I'll bury it so that the dog won't get to it. That was a damn good shot.” Andy's voice trembled. He was obviously shaken.

“I didn't want to shoot between you and the woman, but I was afraid to wait.” Yates shoved the rifle down in the scabbard, swung down from the saddle and walked over to look down at the skunk. “It's sure to be rabid. We'd better pour a little gas on it and set it on fire.” He looked at Andy with narrowed, unblinking gray eyes. “What do you mean, 'it might have' bit you?”

“I'll get the gas. I …felt…something on my leg.”

“Daddy!” A small girl with blond braids came off the porch and ran out into the yard, her long nightgown flapping around her legs.

“Stay back, honey. Go back to the porch.” Andy started toward the child.

“I'll get her, Andy.” The woman who had gone to fetch the shovel came out of the barn. She dropped it when she saw the little girl jump off the porch and head for the dead skunk. She ran to her and grabbed her up.

“Stinks,” the child shouted. “Daddy, it stinks.”

“Daddy will take care of it. We've got to stay out of the way.”

“I smell skunk!” The door slammed behind another girl who stepped out onto the porch. She was older than the one who had run out into the yard.

“Stay there, Ruth Ann,” the woman called.

“Did Calvin catch a skunk?”

The slim woman with the bare feet had thick mahoganycolored hair that tumbled in loose waves about her shoulders. Gripping the hand of the little girl, she pulled her up onto the porch and hugged both girls to her.

Yates's narrowed eyes took in the scene. Although crippled, Andy Connors had done all right for himself. He had a pretty wife and two pretty little girls and was apparently making a living for them.

Leona watched the strange man stride forward and take the gas can from Andy's hand.

“I'll do it. I found blood spots we'd better burn off.”

His voice was deep and forceful, yet it wasn't harsh. It went with the strong planes of his face. He looked dangerous, dark, strong, yet graceful. He was a big man. Andy seemed small beside him.

“If the skunk bit you, you know what it means.”

The stranger poured the gasoline on the body of the skunk and made a trail of it for several yards. He recapped the gas can, moved a short distance away and set it down on the ground. After striking a match on the bottom of his boot, he held the flame to the trail of gasoline. The low fire traveled to the dead animal, where it burst into flames. He watched the fire for a minute or two, giving Andy time to come to terms with what had just happened to him.

“Andy?”

Yates turned when he heard the woman call. Andy had reached the back door of the garage.

“Watch that the fire doesn't spread,” Yates said to the anxious woman on the porch. He picked up the spade and, with one easy shove with his booted foot, sank it into the ground.

Inside the garage, Andy leaned on the hood of his '29 Ford coupe.
Dear God, on the way from the house to the garage his life and that of his kids had been changed—maybe forever.

“Let's take a look at where it bit you.” The stranger had followed him into the hot, semi-darkened garage. “If it didn't break the skin—”

“It did. I didn't want to scare Leona and the girls.”

“They'll have to know sooner or later.”

Andy leaned against the wall, then eased down onto a bench. He lifted the leg of his duck britches and looked down. His face paled, his hands shook, and he broke into a sweat when he saw the trickle of blood that ran from the puncture wound just above the top of his sock.

“Is there a doctor in Sayre?”

“New one. Hasn't been here long.”

“You'll probably have to go to Oklahoma City.”

“Oh, shit! I can't go and leave Leona and the girls out here by themselves. A lot of decent folks travel the highway, but robbers, bootleggers and murderers travel it, too. I sleep with a gun within reach every night.”

“The skunk was sick. I'm sure of it. It was running around in a circle when I first saw it in the woods. I followed it, hoping to get a shot at it.”

“There's not been any rabies around here …that I know of.”

“There is now. Without getting the inoculation shots you'll die of hydrophobia.” The man's voice was as matter-offact as if he were talking about the weather.

Andy took a deep breath, trying to control his fear. The breath didn't help. His heart was pounding like the beat of a drum in a Fourth-of-July parade.

“They'll have to go with me. I can't leave them here by themselves.”

“A series of shots might cover the span of a month or two. Can you keep them with you for that long?”

“Oh, Lord. I hadn't thought of that or how I'll ever pay the doctor.”

“Main thing is to get you treatment. Then worry about that. I'll turn my horse into your pasture, bury the skunk and take you to the doctor. If you have to go to the city, I'll come back here before dark and bunk down in the garage until we see which way the wind blows.”

Andy looked at the man standing over him for a long time.

“Mister, I don't even know your name.”

“Yates.”

“Name's Andy Connors. I'm obliged for your help. Hell, if you hadn't killed it, it might of got to Leona or the girls.” Andy followed Yates out of the garage.

“I don't know much about rabies, but to be on the safe side, we should get you to the doctor as soon as possible.” Yates pulled the spade out of the ground, probed the ashes where he had burned the skunk, then dug a hole and buried them. He came back, handed the spade to Andy and untied his horse.

“I still don't know why you're doing this, Yates.”

“It's payback time, Andy.”

Ignoring the woman and the children on the porch, Yates unsaddled his horse, turned it into the side pasture and carried his saddle to the barn.

“Andy, invite the …man in for breakfast,” Leona called from the porch.

“We're going to town for a while.”

“Can't you eat first?”

“No. I'll leave the key to the gas pump on the hook by the door. You know where I keep the sack of change. I'll be back as soon as I can. Behave while I'm gone, girls.”

“We will, Daddy.”

“Do you want your crutches?” Leona asked.

“No. I don't think so.” Without another word Andy, feeling his world collapsing around him, went back into the garage and stood with clenched fists.

When the stranger came around the end of the porch, a single close-up look told Leona two things: She had never seen a more unapproachable man, and she had never seen one who oozed more confidence. If his size weren't enough to distinguish him, certainly the raven-black hair showing beneath the dusty Stetson and the steely gray eyes would have been. His face was still, absolutely expressionless, although his eyes, when they met hers, seemed to sink right into her.

“Ma'am.” He put his fingers to his hat brim and continued on toward the garage without breaking his long-legged stride.

Leona's instincts whispered that something serious had happened to Andy that he didn't want to talk about.
Oh, my God, don't let it be that the skunk has bitten him!

With a feeling of fear and dread, she watched the tall stranger go through the small door in the back of the garage and close it behind him. Minutes later, Andy's car backed out of the garage and turned onto the highway toward town.

The stranger was at the wheel.

Chapter 2

W
HEN IS DADDY COMIN BACK
?

“He didn't say. Drink your milk, honey.”

“He was goin' to fix the swing today. That old passerby kid broke it down.”

“He didn't mean to break it, JoBeth. The rope was rotten.”

“I don't care. I want Daddy.”

“Shut up whinin'. You're just a …baby.” Eight-year-old Ruth Ann kicked at her younger sister under the table.

“She kicked me! Make her stop,” JoBeth demanded.

“That's enough,” Leona said sternly. “Eat your lunch. I've got to go back to the garage. While you two are fighting, someone could drive in and steal us blind.”

“When is that stink goin' away?”

“Yeah, when's that stink goin' away?” JoBeth echoed her sister.

“In a few days. When you finish eating, put your dishes in the dishpan and cover them with water.”

“I'm not washing
her
dishes.” Ruth Ann's mouth was turned down at the corners, and her blue eyes held the familiar look of rebellion.

“You'd better get that look off your face,” Leona teased lightly. “It may freeze like that, and the kids in school will think that you're just an old sourpuss.”

“It won't freeze. It's not cold outside.”

“When is Daddy comin' back?” JoBeth asked for the tenth time.

“He didn't say.” Leona left the window and hurried to the door. “There's a car at the gas pump. Stay here and do the dishes, Ruth Ann. JoBeth, dry them,” she called over her shoulder as she went down the well-worn path to the back door of the garage.

Leona was so worried about Andy that she hadn't been able to eat. The last glimpse she'd had of his face had told her what he and the stranger hadn't.
The skunk had bitten him.
People went mad when bitten by a rabid animal, didn't they? Please, God, don't let that happen to Andy. He's already had enough trouble in his life.

Passing through the garage, Leona came out into the bright sunshine to see a shiny black sedan parked beside the gas pump and a man in a white shirt and a black felt hat waiting beside it. He was almost as wide as he was tall and was sweating profusely.

“Hello,” Leona said pleasantly. “Need gas?”

“Why else do you think I stopped here?”

Leona lifted her brows, pushed the lever back and forth and watched as the gas gushed into the round glass cylinder at the top of the pump.

“God, it stinks here. Somebody run over a skunk?”

“How much do you want?”

“How much is it?” the man asked.

“Fourteen cents,” Leona replied and nodded toward the sign on the pump.

“Little high, but I guess by being out here on the high-way you can sucker folks out of their money.”

Leona's shoulders tensed. She stopped pumping the gas and turned to look into the man's eyes, made to look small by his fat cheeks. He had the blotchy red and gray complexion of an unfit, overweight…mess.

“What do you mean …sucker?”

“You know what I mean, sister. You've got 'em where the hair is short. Poor, miserable bastards are out of gas. You can charge whatever you want.”

Leona's temper flared. “I don't have to take your insults. You saw the posted price. Why don't you go on down the road and try to chisel someone else out of a profit?” She hung the pump hose back on the hook and headed back toward the garage. She had never lost her patience with a customer before, but this one was a miserable …toad!

“You don't have to get in a huff,” he called. “Is fourteen cents the best you can do?”

“Listen, mister.” As Leona spun around, the skirt of her cotton dress danced against her bare, tanned calves. “We make five cents a gallon on gas. You saw the sign. You knew the price when you pulled in here. If you don't want to pay it, get on down the road and quit wasting my time.”

“If I buy ten gallon, you've made a half a buck for about five minutes work.”

“Yeah. We're getting so rich we plan to buy out Phillips 66 any day now.”

“Being a smart-mouth won't get you many customers.”

“Thank God they're not all like you!”

“A man's got to be careful. Money doesn't grow on trees, you know.”

“Well, whatta ya know! All this time, I thought it did.”

“I'll take two gallons.”

“Are you sure you can afford it?” Leona spat the words as she returned to take the nozzle from the gas pump.

The man watched the cylinder to be sure he got the full measure. When the gas was in the car tank, Leona hung up the hose and held out her hand. After counting out two dimes and eight pennies, he dropped them in her hand. She put the change in her dress pocket and walked away. Customers like him were few and far between. Why did she have to get one on a day when her patience was thin from worry over Andy?

“Why didn't you bite him, Calvin?” Leona said to the brown dog stretched out on the hard-packed-dirt floor of the garage. The dog's tail swished back and forth, as he acknowledged her words and eyed the progress of the car moving out onto the smooth highway and disappearing down the road.