“Well, maybe I do,” he smiled and embraced his son.
“It’s good to see you, Dad,” Heck said. “What’s for lunch? Something smells great.”
“Venison stew,” Wyatt Sr. answered.
“Venison? Where did you get it, gramps?” Lindsay looked a bit worried.
“Does it matter?”
“I prefer to eat meat that’s only ethically butchered,” Lindsay commented.
Wyatt Sr. looked slightly confused, “I was very ethical when I killed this deer. He didn’t feel any pain at all. In fact, he didn’t even see it coming.”
“How can you be so sure?” Lindsay frowned and placed her hands on her hips.
“Because I shot him right between the eyes with a .308 rifle. There wasn’t much left of his head after that. Too bad that I couldn’t get a trophy,” he shook his head but smiled. Lindsay went very pale.
“Honey, he’s just messing with you,” Wyatt looked at his grandpa to nudge him along and shook his head when Lindsay was looking away.
“Of course. I’m just messing with you, dear,” he smiled and gave her a big hug. He pulled an innocent expression at Wyatt when Lindsay wasn’t looking, which made Ness giggle under her breath. “Let’s all head inside and get something to drink.”
They walked up the porch, and although the cabin wasn’t large, it was absolutely beautiful. It was an open plan log cabin with a single bedroom at the back. It did have running water and solar power, but Heck didn’t mind that the cabin was only equipped with an outhouse and not a flushing toilet.
Everyone sat down in the small living room. “Alright, I have coffee and I have beer. Who wants what?” Wyatt Sr. asked.
“It’s pretty hot out, Pop, so I think beer will be good. I also brought some extra. Just grab it out of the truck,” Heck said, standing up and heading out the door.
“Thanks, son,” Wyatt Sr. said as he moved to the kitchenette and removed a six-pack of beers from the fridge and placed them on the small coffee table in the living room.
“Should we pour those into glasses?” Lindsay asked.
“I don’t think I have enough, so the bottles will have to suffice,” Wyatt Sr. laughed raspily and sat down in his old recliner.
Ness grabbed the bottles and screwed off the caps before handing them around.
“So, what’s new, Pops?” Heck asked, returning to his seat after putting more beers into the fridge.
“Nothing, really. I’ve been reading a lot and do work around the cabin. I go hunting and fishing every so often, but I mostly just do woodwork in the small cabin outside. How are things at the station?” Wyatt Sr. coughed loudly before removing his pipe and compressing tobacco inside. He struck a match and started puffing.
“You know that’s going to kill you one day?” Heck scowled at his dad.
“Hey, at least I’ll die happy,” Wyatt Sr. took a long puff on his pipe and blew three consecutive smoke rings.
“The station is doing well. It’s very much the same as it was. You should pop in sometime. There are many folks there that would love to see you.”
“I’ll think about it,” Wyatt Sr, said, standing up and walking to the stove on the other side of the cabin. He removed the lid from the pot and stirred the stew.
“I hope that’s almost done,” Ness piped up. “I’ve been so hungry nowadays.”
“It is actually. Everyone grab a bowl and come and dish up for yourselves” Wyatt Sr. said as he placed freshly baked bread and butter on the dining table.
Everyone jumped up and started dishing up healthy portions of the thick, venison stew and moved toward the table. Once everyone was seated, Wyatt Sr. said grace for the meal, and they started eating. There wasn’t much conversation while everyone was eating because Wyatt Sr. was definitely a fine stew maker. Even Lindsay wiped her bowl clean with a slice of bread, obviously forgetting about her previous reservations.
“Hey, Pop, did you make this bread yourself?” Heck piped up as he was having his last bite.
“I most certainly did.”
“I’m impressed. You were never really the baker in the household.”
“Yeah, well, times change,” Wyatt Sr. smiled, but there was a lot of pain behind it. Heck regretted saying anything.
“I think Wyatt and I will clean up. Why don’t you three go outside and sit on the porch for a while?” Lindsay said, collecting the dishes.
“Actually, Pop, would you mind if I had a quick nap on your bed? That meal has really made me lazy,” Heck said.
“No problem, son. Actually, Ness, I’d like to show you the furniture I’ve been making in the cabin outside. You were always the most interested in carpentry around here,” Wyatt Sr. shot his grandson a look. “Hey . . . I didn’t say I didn't like it,” Wyatt looked defensive.
“Yeah, yeah. Listen to your wife and go help her with dishes. Come on, Ness,” Wyatt Sr. led Ness outside and toward the cabin out back.
Ness smiled as she breathed in the scents of pine and clean air. She could hear the creek babble a few yards away. “Gramps, can I ask you a question?” Ness asked.
“Fire away.”
“What can you tell me about the En Passant Killer?” Wyatt Sr. turned and looked at Ness sternly: “Why on earth would you want to know about that monster?”
“Because he’s one of the few bad guys that you were obsessed with. Please Gramps. It’s important.”
“Fine, come inside,” Wyatt Sr. opened the cabin’s doors and they walked in. It
