“Eat your cornbread and shut up, CousinDennis,” Bill said pleasantly, and Taylor laughed.
“Anybody want another beer?” Will asked,rising.
“I will,” Cousin Dennis said. Taylor nodded.Will’s father shook his head.
Grant said suddenly, “Jem Dooley gotreleased from prison last week.”
“Let’s not ruin a good meal talking aboutthe Dooleys,” Bill said in a tone Will remembered well from hisyouth.
“Have you heard from him?” Will asked hisfather, frowning.
“Nope. And I don’t expect to.”
Will had gone to school with Jem Dooley,with all the Dooleys. No-accounts and troublemakers pretty muchsummed them up. Jem had taken his no-account status to a whole newlevel when he’d tried to rob a local gas station and ended upkilling the owner when the man had opened fire on him. Bill Brandthad been the Columbia County Sheriff at the time, and it had beenhis job to track Jem to Deer Island and arrest him. It had notendeared the Brandts to the Dooleys. Not that they had ever beenneighborly exactly. But after Jem went to prison, it had felt morelike the Hatfields and the McCoys. No one had been killed, but ithad come close a couple of times.
Jem had sworn to seek revenge on Bill Brandtonce he got out of prison, but he’d had his sentence extended twicefor committing assault and battery on fellow inmates, so Will hadstarted thinking Jem would spend his entire life behind bars.
Will continued his trip out to the kitchento get the beer. He could hear Cousin Dennis asking, “Who are theDooleys?”
He sounded like an easterner to Will. NotJersey. Not New York. Maybe Connecticut? Maryland? Not a tough guy.Definitely not a tough guy. A smart-mouth. Atoo-smart-for-his-own-good guy. Maybe an accountant or a businessowner who’d made the mistake of hooking up with the wrong partner.It happened.
“A local family with more than their shareof bad luck,” Bill said with finality. “Taylor, son, you don’t haveto stand on ceremony. Have some more chili.”
“Here you go.” Will tossed the plasticbottle of Tums to Taylor, who was already in bed and looking verymuch at home. Taylor popped the lid and shook two tablets out. Hegrimaced, chewed the orange tablets, and set the bottle on thebedside table.
“What do you think of Cousin Dennis?” heasked.
It was nearly midnight and everyone hadretired for the evening. In fact, Grant had turned in not longafter dinner, claiming he wanted to get an early start fishing thenext morning. It was disappointing that Grant was being such anass, but Will was hopeful once he’d had a little time to thinkthings through, he’d come around.
Or maybe he wouldn’t.
Painful to think, but it was possible.
Will shrugged. “Seems harmless enough.Hopefully the marshals will yank him out of here tomorrow.” Heopened the cedar chest at the foot of the bed and pulled out aheavy wool Indian print blanket. The blanket smelled of camphor andwood and something he couldn’t quite place but that reminded him ofhis boyhood. Liniment? His first aftershave?
“He’s no wise guy, but he’s no innocentbystander either,” Taylor commented.
“He’s also not our problem.” Will shook outthe red zigzagged folds and let the blanket drift down and settleover the bed. “You warm enough?”
“Sure.”
“You want a pair of wool socks?”
“Nah.”
“It gets cold in this house at night.” Willpulled an extra pair of socks out of his suitcase and dangled thementicingly. “Pop doesn’t run the heater.”
“Thanks, but they make my feet sweat.”
Will went around to the side of the bed,pulled the blankets back and slid between the blue flannel sheets.“My, this is cozy.”
Taylor laughed. At home they shared aking-sized bed, so this was definitely a tighter fit. “If I wasn’tyour boyfriend before, I would be now.”
Will snorted. He reached over and turned offthe lamp.
The darkness was instant and allencompassing. For a few moments they lay quietly, simply absorbingthe depth and silence of night in the forest.
“That is one beautiful moon,” Taylorremarked as the window slowly filled with bright silver light.
“Yeah. Nice.” Will turned his head on thepillow, trying to make out Taylor’s features in the uncertainlight. “So what do you mean you’re not going fishing tomorrow? Ithought that was the plan. You love fishing.”
“I do, yeah. But I don’t want to breakGrant’s heart.”
Will said tersely, “Grant is going to haveto adjust.”
“Sure. And tomorrow you can break that newsto him.” Taylor yawned, wiggled his jaw. “Anyway, there’s plenty oftime for you and me to go fishing, right?”
“Yep. What are you going to do then?”
“I’ll find something to keep me busy.”
“Don’t wander off into the woods.”
Taylor spluttered. “Right, because going fora long hike by myself in the woods is the first thing I’d think ofto amuse myself.”
“I know, but you can’t do the other thingall day. You’ll go blind.”
Taylor started to laugh.
Will’s feet brushed Taylor’s and he jumped.“Christ, MacAllister. Your feet are like popsicles!”
“You’ll take care of that.”
Will did his best, folding Taylor’s feetbetween his own and rubbing them.
Taylor, who was extremely ticklish, gave alittle gasp. Actually, it was kind of a squeak. Almost asqueal.
“That was manly,” Will muttered, trying notto laugh.
Taylor started to respond, but there was aheavy thump against the wall, as though someone had kicked it orthrown a boot at it.
“Are you kidding me?” Taylor lungedup and whumped the wall back, hard. Will winced, but Taylor was inthe right. Grant was pushing his luck.
Taylor flopped back and gave that littleirritated huff he made when he was nervous or worried.
“Hey.” Will wrapped his arm around Taylor’sbony shoulders and tugged him still closer. “I’m going to haveanother talk with him, don’t worry.”
“I know.”
“He’s my only brother. Please don’t killhim.”
“I won’t touch him. I won’t touch a hair ofhis backwoods head.”
Will grinned fiercely into the darkness andpressed a kiss on top of Taylor’s city boy head.
They lay in companionable, warm silence.
“What’s funny?” Taylor mumbled.
“Hm?”
“I can feel you smiling.”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“You.”
“What about me?”
“I don’t know. Something about you beinghere now. All those years I used to lie here and think about…Idon’t know.”
Taylor tilted his face up, as thoughlistening for what Will wasn’t putting into words. “What?”
“The usual
