Love Mercy Part 28

Rett called out to her great-grandpa again. "It's Aggie. Your baby sister. Can I come see you?"

There was a long silence, and she thought that maybe she'd done something really stupid, when she saw August move back in front of the window and hold up his lantern. His face glowed from the light. "Aggie? Is that you? Are you all right?"

She swallowed hard, then stood up, ignoring the sound of Love's voice behind her telling her to get down.

"Yes, August, it's Aggie. I'm fine. I just want to talk to you. Can I come see you? I have . . ." Her mind went blank for a second. "I . . . uh . . . I have supper. Mama sent it. I have fried chicken."

His laugher rang out, and he opened the old window. "Mama's chicken? That'll sure hit the spot."

Rett moved slowly around the front of the jeep. "Can I come and bring it to you? It's getting cold." She held her breath, watching his figure in the window. He brought the lamp up closer to his face. One hand held the lantern, the other was empty. He'd set his gun down. She exhaled in relief.

"I'm coming to the barn now," she said, walking slowly toward the building. Beneath her feet, the snap of dried gra.s.s sounded as loud as gunshots.

Please don't let him shoot me, Mr. G.o.d, she silently prayed. I really kind of want to live. She continued walking toward the barn. "I'm almost there, August. Don't forget, it's me, Aggie."

"For heaven's sake, I know who you are," his deep voice said in a slightly peeved tone.

His tall figure in the window bent down to pick up something. She froze. "August?" Her voice wavered.

"Who's that behind you? Stop!" August's voice was harsh. "Who goes there?" He pointed his rifle at something behind her.

Surprised, Rett turned around to see her grandma Love, still clutching the soaked gauze pad to her shoulder. In the moonlight, Rett could see the pain in her shadowed face.

"August," Rett cried in a panic."Don't shoot. It's . . . it's my friend . . ." Her mind frantically searched for a name that sounded old-fashioned, someone who might be friends with his sister, Aggie. "Lucille. Lucille . . . uh . . ." She almost said Ball. "Jones. Lucille Jones. She's spending the night with me."

"Luci?" he said, lowering his rifle. "Why, I haven't seen her since she was a little girl. How's your mama feeling?"

"She's fine," Love said in the calmest voice Rett had ever heard. "She's gotten over her shingles now. Feeling much better."

"Shingles," August said. "That's a shame. Never had 'em, but I know they can hurt like the d.i.c.kens. You two come on in and stay for supper. I want to hear more about your mama."

"Okay," Love said, coming up beside Rett and putting her good arm around her shoulder. "We're coming through the door now. Don't you shoot us."

August's deep laugh echoed through the empty barn. "What a crazy thing to say, Luci girl. Why in the world would I shoot you? Aggie, you say you got fried chicken?"

Rett and Love walked inside the barn. He'd set the rifle down on an old wooden box, but it was still within his grasp.

Rett immediately went over to August and slipped her arm through his, pulling him out of reach of the rifle. "The chicken's out in the car, August," she said, glancing over at Love, who had already placed herself between August and the rifle. "Let's take the lantern and go on home."

"Fried chicken," August said, picking up the lantern, not even glancing at Love or at the rifle. "That sure would hit the spot right now. You know, after supper, I think I'd like to take a nap. I'm feeling a little tired."

"That's a good idea," Love said, coming up behind them. "I think maybe we all could use a nap."

Rett hugged August's arm to her side, smelling the sour-sweet old man scent that came from him. He stumbled when they stepped over the barn threshold, and she caught him before he could fall.

"It was a long day in the fields," he said, sighing.

"Yes, I bet it was," Rett agreed, tears suddenly burning her eyes. This man, it just occurred to her, was her blood, her daddy's grandpa. Without him, she would not be here right now. She would not be anywhere. By some mysterious meeting of sperm and egg and sperm and egg and sperm and egg, Loretta Lynn Johnson was on this earth, able to sing and write songs and fall in love and get scorned. And live. Most of all, live. Just like Patsy's baby. Patsy and Dale's baby. For some reason, that baby was now a part of this world, and someday, someday, Aunt Rett would tell him or her this story. The story of the day great-great-grandpa August thought Aunt Rett and Great-grandma Love were German soldiers and how he shot Love without meaning to and how Rett pretended to be his long-dead sister.

She glanced behind her to make sure her grandma was all right. Love walked slowly behind them, carrying the rifle.

"Are you okay?" Rett asked. "Do you need some help?"

"I'm fine," Love said. "Just needs a little antibiotic cream and a Band-Aid."

August stumbled again, and Rett slipped her arm around the old man's waist. "We have some water up in the car. Bet you could use a drink."

He looked down at her, his watery eyes blank. "Who did you say you were?"

She inhaled, no longer needing to lie because they were all safe. "I'm Rett. Your great-granddaughter. Your grandson, Tommy's, daughter."

He c.o.c.ked his head. "Tommy's daughter? Why, I didn't even know he had a daughter. How is Tommy doing?"

Her heart ached at his question, but she smiled up at him. "He actually has three daughters. I'm number two."

"Tommy's a good boy," August said. "Real smart. Always quick with figuring things out. He can think on his feet, that boy."

"Really?" Rett said, leading him toward the jeep. She turned her head again to check on Love, who was slipping the rifle under some blankets in the back of the jeep. "You still okay back there?"

"Yes, I am. You're going to have to drive, though."

"I can do that," Rett said.

"I know you can," Love replied. "And I can't wait to get back to the ranch and tell everyone how proud I am of you. Sweet Pea, you really saved the day." Rett could tell that her grandma wasn't being sarcastic, that she really was proud of her. It felt good. It had been a long time since someone had said she'd done something right.

"You saved the day?" August asked, c.o.c.king his head. "What did you do?"

"Oh, nothing," Rett said, helping him up into the pa.s.senger seat. "Just a little quick thinking on my feet."

"Just like Tommy," August said, patting her hand. "He's a good boy. A smart boy. Never had a bit of trouble figuring things out."

"So I've been told," Rett said and laughed.

THIRTY-ONE.

Love Mercy They settled August in the front pa.s.senger seat, wrapping an old blanket around his trembling shoulders. Love slipped into the back of the jeep. The bleeding on her shoulder had slowed, so she told Rett not to rush, that these fire roads were tricky at night.

"I'll get us home in one piece," Rett said.

August had grown silent, his head lolling to one side in exhaustion. Oh, Pops, Love thought, tucking the blanket around his exposed neck. I'm so sorry I didn't do something before it came to this. She would never forgive herself for what happened. It would be something that would haunt her for the rest of her life-what could have happened. She'd never forget those terrifying seconds when her granddaughter stood up and started walking toward the barn. Love never prayed more desperately or more sincerely: Lord, please, not Rett. Take me, not Rett. Please.

He was gracious and spared them all.

Halfway back to the ranch, Love was finally able to reach Gabe on his cell phone. "We found August. He was at Big Barn. We're on our way home."

"I'll let the others know," Gabe said. "Is everything all right?"

Other than her shoulder feeling like someone had burned it with a blow torch? "Yes, we're all fine."

By the time they reached the pasture nearest the ranch house, Zane and Mel were waiting for them on horseback. In the distance, Love could see a trio of police cars and dozens of people milling about the ranch's back patio, lit up like daylight from security lights that August installed years ago.

Zane hopped off his horse and undid the last gate.

"Hey, there, cowboy," Rett called, laughing. "Thanks! I've been having to latch and unlatch every gate myself."

"Why didn't Love-" Mel started, then she spotted Love's bandaged shoulder. A small amount of blood had seeped through. She scrambled off her horse and ran over to Love. "What happened?"

"I'm fine," Love said, nodding over at August. "We need to get Pops home. He's very tired."

Mel glanced over at August, whose chin touched his chest now. "What-"

"Let's get him home," Love said firmly. "We'll tell you everything once we get him settled."

Because Gabe had called search and rescue, and they'd been setting up plans for a search if August didn't show up, paramedics were on the scene. Despite his cranky protests, they gave August a quick exam and said that he seemed okay physically. They suggested it might be good to take him to the hospital for a more thorough exam.

As Love kept trying to tell them as they undid her clumsy bandage, her wound had turned out to be superficial. They cleaned it up, bandaged it much more professionally and also recommended that she stop by emergency. She a.s.sured them she would at the same time they took August. When questioned by the sheriff's deputy in charge of search and rescue, Love remained obstinately vague about how she got the wound, insisting that it was accidental; she might have fallen on something in the barn; she really didn't remember.

Rett went along with her story, saying that she hadn't really seen what happened. When the deputy tried to probe a little deeper, suspecting there was more to the tale, her granddaughter looked straight into his disbelieving eyes and said, "Are you saying that my grandma is a liar?" When he turned his back in frustration, she shot Love a wide, goofy grin.

Love couldn't help smiling back. Teaching her granddaughter to lie to the police probably wasn't the most moral thing to do, but since they didn't know what would happen to August if the police found out he shot at them, Love decided that this needed to be a family problem. Before she left tonight, she'd make sure that every gun in the house was gone.

Though August was annoyed about Love for calling an ambulance rather than letting Polly or her drive him the twelve miles to General Hospital in San Celina, Love wouldn't back down. He needed to be under observation, and they needed time to search the house for guns.

"I'm tired, and so is Polly," Love said. "We just want to make sure you get there in one piece."

"Waste of money," he grumbled.

"I'll pay for it if that's your worry," Love said.

He sat up straight in his chair. "I pay my own debts."

"Do you want us to come along?" Benni asked. Gabe was outside, tying up things with the police, while Dove helped Polly pack an overnight case for August.

"Thanks, but we can take it from here," Love said. "Y'all have already done so much. Thank you for coming so quickly . . ." The rest of the words choked in her throat.

"That's what neighbors do," Benni said, her wiry arms gently hugging Love. "We were glad to help. Let us know if there's anything else we can do."

"I will." Then Love went over to Magnolia and Mel, who were seated at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Zane and Rett lingered behind them, sipping cans of c.o.ke, their young faces looking a thousand times less tired and worn than the rest of them.

"Mel, Magnolia, I need your help," Love said. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Polly or August wasn't within hearing distance, she gave them a quick rundown of what happened.

"Lord, have mercy," Magnolia whispered. "Y'all could've been killed!"

"What do you need us to do?" Mel asked.

"Search the house for any firearms and take them out of here," Love said. "We can't take the chance of this happening again."

"I can help," Zane said.

"Thanks," Love said. "You'll have a pretty long time to look, because I'm going to ask them to keep August overnight. I'll be making an appointment first thing tomorrow with his doctor to see what we can do about . . . his memory problem."

She couldn't say the word yet-Alzheimer's. If it wasn't that, there was certainly something firing wrong in his brain. They couldn't ignore it any longer. And it was up to her to talk to him and Polly about it. She was all the family they had now.

"We'll let you know tomorrow what we find," Mel said. "I'll keep any guns at my place."

"Thanks, Mel. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Rett drove Love to the hospital in San Celina. The ambulance allowed Polly to ride with August to keep him from becoming agitated. Love took the doctor aside and explained how August had temporarily lost himself, how he thought he was back in the war. He agreed that having him stay overnight for observation might be wise. He knew August's family doctor and would confer with him in the morning.

So they checked him into a room with a small bed for Polly so she could stay with him. Once they were settled, Love promised she'd be back first thing in the morning. She found Rett in the front lobby, watching a Leave It to Beaver rerun on the television. Her face looked pale and vulnerable in the dim light of the lavender and gray lobby.

"What about your arm?" Rett's forehead wrinkled with worry.

"I'll see a doctor tomorrow," Love said. "I'm tired. I want to go home. The paramedics bandaged it fine."

Rett sat back on the nubby sofa, her arms crossed over her chest. "They aren't doctors. What if it gets infected? You probably need antibiotics, or you could get really sick. Then who would take care of Polly and August?"

Love stared at her granddaughter, speechless for a moment. Then she laughed. "Well, you certainly know how to make a person feel guilty."

"You have, like, insurance, don't you?"

Love shook her head in disbelief. "Yes, I have insurance."

Rett stood up, resting a hand on her c.o.c.ked hip. "Then what's the big deal?"

"Okay," Love said, turning around and marching up to the emergency admitting desk. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll have a doctor look at it." After having to lie, yet again, about how she came to have the wound, the emergency room doctor bandaged it again and wrote her prescriptions for antibiotics and pain pills, in case she needed them. They stopped at an all-night drugstore in San Celina and got them filled.

Love took the first one with a bottle of water she also bought. "There," Love said, shaking the half-empty bottle at Rett, who insisted on driving. "Happy now?"

Rett smiled without taking her eyes off the road. "Yes, ma'am, I am."

It was almost one a.m. by the time they got home. Ace greeted them like they'd been away on a ten-day trek through the Congo. Rett sat down on the floor and let him jump all over her, giggling as he licked her face. Then he ran over to Love, poked his nose on her calf, let her scratch his neck, then darted back to Rett.

"Flyboy," Love said, laughing. "I think you might be overacting a little."

"He missed us," Rett said, pushing herself up from the floor. She stretched her long arms and yawned. "Wow, gnarly night."

"The gnarliest," Love agreed. "I think I'm going to have some toast and peanut b.u.t.ter before I go to bed. Would you like some?"

"Sure," Rett said. "I'm going to change clothes." She turned her head and sniffed her shoulder. "I smell like rotten leaves and kind of mediciney."