somehow miraculously vanished during the previous nightâs tussle with evasive sleep, I grunted my disapproval at the slowness of their healing and shuddered. Figured I might as well resign myself to the fecklessness of Irby Tealâs questionable aim and just try to forget about the angry-looking wound. Fat chance.
I hobbled across my sultry bedchamber. The shadow-filled room was ever so slowly, but very certainly, growing brighter with the unhurried rising of the sun.
Stopping at the nightstand, I snatched the ewer from its matching bowl. Poured lukewarm water into one hand and sucked it across dry lips, like a wary animal drinking from a tiny pond. Slapped some of the liquid onto my face and neck. Sure as hell felt good. I rattled the jug back into place, then lurched for the roomâs open door.
âAlways darkest just before the dawn,â I muttered and stared into the framed dimness of coming sunup outside.
One hand pressed against my knotted spine, I paused in the roomâs entryway. The broad porch of our rented, dog-run ranch house lay at my feet. I cocked an inquisitive ear and twisted my head to get better focused on the question that plagued my sleep-fogged mind.
A hundred yards away, in the trees near the river, frogs quarreled. Whip-poor-wills called back and forth to one another. Off to the north, near a barely silhouetted, rock-strewn hill, a solitary coyote yipped. Doves, surprised by something unseen, fluttered up in a flurry of racket just a few feet from the front steps and clattered their way to raucous safety. Crickets chirped and buzzed in every direction.
âMite noisy this morning. But itâs better than living up north around Fort Worth. Have to put up with the constant racket from all the damned locusts,â I said to the fast-approaching light. âGod Almighty, but I do hate their infernal buzzing.â
Pleasant fragrance of wildflowers, carried on the approaching morningâs barely detectable breezes, wafted across the grass-poor yard. The refreshing aroma tickled the edges of my flared nostrils. Distracted, I momentarily abandoned my mission and tilted an inquisitive nose up to get a better whiff of the delicate bouquet.
Lilac. But then again, maybe not. Still hadnât acquired the talent for telling one flower from the other just by the smelling. Hell of a failing for a man who spent most of his waking life out on the raw edges of civilization.
Maybe the perfume came from bluebonnets blooming somewhere nearby. Yeah, that made perfect sense. Bluebonnets. No women around this haven for us ole shot-to-a-pulp bachelors to tell me for sure.
Clad in nothing but a pair of cotton, calf-length, faded-red drawers, I grabbed the doorframeâs crossbeam to steady up a bit, then leaned forward, ever so slightly. Scratched an itchy belly, then tried to pick anything by way of odd, inappropriate sounds from the soon-to-be stifling south Texas air.
I knew beyond a doubt that something out of place had snapped me from my troubled slumbers. Something peculiar. An eerie oddity that didnât belong had surely pulled me away from nightly reveries of the blood-soaked missions me and Boz had gone on.
Whatever was out there in the dark was well on the way to bringing me back to wakeful awareness. Now, I just had to ferret out whatever it was that didnât fit. The task simply required that I be patient. Pay attention. Get my fogged-up mind right.
Near half a minute passed. And then, the world went completely and totally silent, as if the hot breezes had died and all the night animals, birds, and crickets had suddenly, inexplicably vanished from the earth. Eerie as hell. Made the skin pimple and crawl up and down my achy spine in unsettling waves.
Then, there it was, sure enough. No doubt about it. None. Could barely lay an ear to the errant, distant popping. But there it was for damned sureâoff in the hazy, red-tinged, gray-black distance. The distinctive,
I hobbled across my sultry bedchamber. The shadow-filled room was ever so slowly, but very certainly, growing brighter with the unhurried rising of the sun.
Stopping at the nightstand, I snatched the ewer from its matching bowl. Poured lukewarm water into one hand and sucked it across dry lips, like a wary animal drinking from a tiny pond. Slapped some of the liquid onto my face and neck. Sure as hell felt good. I rattled the jug back into place, then lurched for the roomâs open door.
âAlways darkest just before the dawn,â I muttered and stared into the framed dimness of coming sunup outside.
One hand pressed against my knotted spine, I paused in the roomâs entryway. The broad porch of our rented, dog-run ranch house lay at my feet. I cocked an inquisitive ear and twisted my head to get better focused on the question that plagued my sleep-fogged mind.
A hundred yards away, in the trees near the river, frogs quarreled. Whip-poor-wills called back and forth to one another. Off to the north, near a barely silhouetted, rock-strewn hill, a solitary coyote yipped. Doves, surprised by something unseen, fluttered up in a flurry of racket just a few feet from the front steps and clattered their way to raucous safety. Crickets chirped and buzzed in every direction.
âMite noisy this morning. But itâs better than living up north around Fort Worth. Have to put up with the constant racket from all the damned locusts,â I said to the fast-approaching light. âGod Almighty, but I do hate their infernal buzzing.â
Pleasant fragrance of wildflowers, carried on the approaching morningâs barely detectable breezes, wafted across the grass-poor yard. The refreshing aroma tickled the edges of my flared nostrils. Distracted, I momentarily abandoned my mission and tilted an inquisitive nose up to get a better whiff of the delicate bouquet.
Lilac. But then again, maybe not. Still hadnât acquired the talent for telling one flower from the other just by the smelling. Hell of a failing for a man who spent most of his waking life out on the raw edges of civilization.
Maybe the perfume came from bluebonnets blooming somewhere nearby. Yeah, that made perfect sense. Bluebonnets. No women around this haven for us ole shot-to-a-pulp bachelors to tell me for sure.
Clad in nothing but a pair of cotton, calf-length, faded-red drawers, I grabbed the doorframeâs crossbeam to steady up a bit, then leaned forward, ever so slightly. Scratched an itchy belly, then tried to pick anything by way of odd, inappropriate sounds from the soon-to-be stifling south Texas air.
I knew beyond a doubt that something out of place had snapped me from my troubled slumbers. Something peculiar. An eerie oddity that didnât belong had surely pulled me away from nightly reveries of the blood-soaked missions me and Boz had gone on.
Whatever was out there in the dark was well on the way to bringing me back to wakeful awareness. Now, I just had to ferret out whatever it was that didnât fit. The task simply required that I be patient. Pay attention. Get my fogged-up mind right.
Near half a minute passed. And then, the world went completely and totally silent, as if the hot breezes had died and all the night animals, birds, and crickets had suddenly, inexplicably vanished from the earth. Eerie as hell. Made the skin pimple and crawl up and down my achy spine in unsettling waves.
Then, there it was, sure enough. No doubt about it. None. Could barely lay an ear to the errant, distant popping. But there it was for damned sureâoff in the hazy, red-tinged, gray-black distance. The distinctive,
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