The hideous head swayed in her direction.
Lou prayed that by not moving she wouldn’t provoke it. She wanted to look to see if Zach had noticed, but she was afraid to even move her eyes. The snake might strike.
The buzz of its tail grew louder. For some reason the snake was becoming more agitated.
What could she do? She could try to shoot it, but it was bound to bite her before she got off a shot. She had heard they were lightning quick. And besides, she wasn’t Zach. She couldn’t shoot without aiming. In the time it would take her to take aim the snake could bite her three or four times.
All Lou could do was stand there and hope. She began to sweat. She hated when that happened. Sweat made her feel sticky, and she wasn’t fond of how she smelled.
In her ears the buzzing rose to a crescendo. Although “buzzing” didn’t quite fit. It was more like the rattle of seeds in a dry gourd. Its tail was sticking up in the air and vibrating fiercely.
Any moment now.
Lou resigned herself. It was going to strike. She must be ready and try to jump out of the way. She knew she would still get bitten but she had to try. She also knew that if she slipped and fell on the boulders, she might harm the new life taking form inside her.
The rattler’s thick body was in an S, the head at the top of the S with the mouth parting.
This was it. Lou tensed and was on the verge of springing when the stock of a rifle flashed out of nowhere and struck the snake on the head with such force the reptile was flung against a boulder. It immediately started to coil and rear, but a moccasin-clad foot stomped on it just below the head, and the next thing, Zach bent and grabbed hold of the tail and began to swing the snake as if it were a rope. With each swing he smashed it against a boulder, again and again and again, smashing and smashing.
“Zach,” Lou said.
Zach didn’t hear her. He was making small animal sounds deep in his throat, snarls and growls as if he were a wolverine gone berserk. He swung and smashed and smashed some more so that the snake was turning to pulp.
“Zach?”
The snake was limp and had to be lifeless, but Zach suddenly slammed it down one more time and let go and drew his tomahawk. With a swift blow he separated the head from the body and then went on swinging, chopping the body to bits and pieces.
“Zach,” Lou said, and put her hand on his arm.
Zach stopped chopping. He looked at her, his eyes wild with savagery and his lips curled back so that he looked as if
“I think it’s dead.”
Zach glanced down. He slowly straightened. The savagery faded from his eyes and he slowly became his usual self. He stared at the gore on his tomahawk. “I think you’re right.”
“I’ll say one thing for you. When you kill a snake, you
“It was going to bite you,” Zach said quietly.
“I know.”
“I couldn’t let it. I’ll never let anything or anyone harm you so long as I’m breathing.”
“No need to justify what you did.” Lou gently squeezed his arm. “You did what you had to. You always do what you have to.”
“That’s what a man does,” Zach said, and his voice was husky and almost hoarse.
“You do it well.”
Zach coughed again, and set down his tomahawk and took her into his arms. “God,” he said. “I almost lost you.”
Lou snuggled against him. She was still holding her rifle and it was pressed between them and gouging her, but she didn’t want to break the hug to set it down. She snuggled and kissed him on the neck, and said, “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
“I know I can always count on you.”
“It was ready to strike. If I’d come a second later…” Zach stopped.
“It’s over.”
“From this day on I’m killing every damn rattler I see.”
“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“You might have died.”
“You can’t blame all snakes over this one. Another might have crawled off.”
“I want you and the baby safe. So I mean it. Every rattler from now on is dead.”
Lou snuggled and kissed his neck. “That’s another thing I like about you. You don’t do things in half measure.”
“We should show it to my pa.”
“Which piece?”
Zach started to laugh and caught himself. Lou started, and didn’t stop. She let herself go. It felt good to laugh and feel the tension seep from her and leave her restored and happy. “I’m all right now.”
“I lost control again,” Zach said.
“You had cause.”
“I told myself I would never lose control again, and I did.”
“The important thing is that the snake is dead. Now we can get on with the hunt.”
Zach let go of her and stepped back. “
“We’ve been all through that. I’m not helpless. I’m taking part.”
“No,” Zach said firmly. “You’re not.”
Lou went to say that she was a grown woman and could do as she pleased, and looked into his eyes. “Oh,” she said. “I guess I’m not.”
Zach stepped to the lake and dipped the tomahawk in the water, swishing it until the gore was off, and wiped the tomahawk dry on his pants. Tucking it under his belt, he retrieved his rifle and held out his hand to her. “I’m sorry, but we can’t risk the baby.”
“No, we can’t,” Lou agreed.
“I’m sorry I lost control, too.”
“Enough about that.”
“I worry that one day I’ll lose control and bring more trouble down on our heads, like I did with the army that time.”
“Stop fretting. You were just being you. It’s not the most important thing, anyway.”
“What is?”
Lou turned to him. “Our love.”
“I think a rattlesnake just crawled up my leg,” Shakespeare McNair remarked.
Nate was looking under a rock. “You’re not half as humorous as you think you are.” They had scoured most of the south shore and not come across a snake of any kind. He and McNair were near the grass, Winona and Blue Water Woman were over by the lake. They had been hunting for an hour now and would soon be at the east end.
“You think I jest, Horatio?” Shakespeare gave his right leg a vigorous shake and then bent as if to check if
