hunting, so Zack must have been right about the area. Travis had no intentions of complaining, but the longer they walked, the heavier the rifle grew. Now he understood what Grant Andrews meant when he said that the only thing that kept him in good shape was regular trips to Morgan’s or Bonnie’s ranch. They walked farther into a low-lying area where black mud oozed up midway to their boots, but they could see deer prints.
“I do have a hankerin’ for fresh venison,” Travis said.
“I can almost smell it cooking. Juanita and Mama can make the best venison sausage. My mouth waters just thinking about it with a big mess of fried taters and jalapeño peppers.”
“I’ve never in my life seen anyone eat food as spicy hot as you.”
“Mama says that’s the Grandpa Andrews in me.”
“Still, it would set my stomach on fire.” Travis peered into the thick woods. “Two deer, you say?”
“We could smoke ’em and be set for a long time.”
“I was thinking about the hide, too.”
“Yeah, we’d have a fine time. Brother Travis, can I ask you a personal question?”
Travis let the request roll around in his head for a moment. “I reckon so. You already know more about me than anyone in this town.” Then he remembered Frank and Ellen Kahler. “Ellen Kahler grew up where I’m from, and she has a little of the story.”
“This is nothing about that.”
“All right. Ask me.”
“Do you like my mama?”
Travis thought he’d been doused with cold water. “She’s a godly woman, and I admire her determination to run the Morning Star and raise her children according to the Bible.”
“I mean, do you like her enough to marry up with her?”
He forced a laugh. “Whatever made you ask that?”
“Because she’s pretty, hasn’t a husband, and you’re not married.”
“Zack, two people are supposed to love each other to consider marriage. And look at me. I’m no prize. Besides, your mama is a beautiful woman.”
“Remember our Bible reading the other morning about God looking at the heart?”
Travis was snared and skinned. “Yes, I remember.”
“Your not wanting a haircut or shave has nothing to do with it. I’ve seen how you two look at each other. I’m not a man, and I don’t understand all the things that go with love, but I’m not blind.”
Out of the mouths of babes, Lord. “I sure hope you haven’t had this conversation with your mother.”
“She’d deny it too.” Zack stopped in the middle of the path and pointed. “We need to be quiet from here. Don’t want to scare them off. You can think on my question and answer me later.”
Amused, Travis nodded. They veered off the path and made their way through the woods. What a fine young man Zack was turning out to be, even if he was entirely too observant. Since the tornado, he’d been real company. Still, he hadn’t said a word about returning home. Maybe he thought the old Zack might take root again.
Travis reached out and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. They’d both seen a buck not thirty feet from them sporting a magnificent pair of antlers. “You take it,” he whispered. “I’ll get the next one.”
Grinning, Zack lifted the Springfield to his shoulder and braced himself for the recoil. He took aim, squeezed the trigger, and almost lost his balance. The buck startled then fell. With a whoop, Zack regained his balance, handed Travis his rifle, and rushed toward the downed deer. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. Not a muscle moved.
“Brother Travis.” His voice trembled, and not with the sound of a young man’s voice journeying into manhood.
“What’s wrong?”
“I see something awful over here. A body. It’s a woman, and I think she’s . . . dead.”
Travis’s heart pounded hard. He thrashed through the underbrush to Zack’s side. The boy pointed.
“Stay here while I take a look.” Travis recognized the color of her hair, and a moment later he recognized the face. Rosie. Her chest was stained red with blood. She’d been stabbed. He bent to her side. No one would hurt her again. She now lay in the arms of Jesus.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Miss Rosie.”
“Is she—”
“Yes, Zack. She’s dead.” Travis swallowed hard. “Son, I need you to head back to town for the sheriff. Tell him what happened. He’ll know what to do. You might want to fetch your grandpa and do whatever he asks of you.”
“Did Lester do this?”
“We can’t judge a man without proof.”
“Yes, sir. I’m real sorry. She treated me nice, and