I had an awfully hard time deciding where to steal my teaser for LAW OF THE LEMHI from tonight. I just reached CHAPTER EIGHTEEN, page 139, and a scene that filled me with emotion with its writing. These people have come to life for me, and they are almost as real as anyone I know. Coal Savage has met the wife of his best friend, Kathy MacAtee, at their ranch upon her return from visiting family. He is there to try and comfort her and her 3 daughters. Two years ago, the MacAtees sixteen year old son, Wayne, had lost his life in a car wreck. Now Kathy has lost her husband to an unknown assassin. This is the scene I am leaving you with. Kathy has just taken Coal out to her husbands shop to show him something his friend Larry was so excited to have him come back home to see: a 69 Camaro Z-28. This is a piece of the scene that follows........... Kathy finally looked up at him, her arms still around his back and his around her. “You should sit behind the wheel, Coal. It feels wonderful. Just like your dream and Larry’s.” “No, I couldn’t.” “What?” She leaned farther back from him. “Coal, come on. You’ve waited for this for three years. A sixty-nine Camaro!” “I know, Kathy, but...” “Coal, you just get your butt behind that wheel, right now. Larry would be sad if you didnt. “I’ll sit in the passenger side,” he finally said, and he let go of her and touched the shiny handle. “No dust,” he remarked. “Right!” Kathy laughed. “Dust? Larry was out here every morning dusting it before he would do much to start his day, even before he would have coffee. It made him think of Wayne. And you.” Coal fought the tears that surged up in him. Damn it, he was a soldier! Military police. And an investigator for the FBI. A sheriff of one of the roughest counties in Idaho. Such men did not cry! Clenching his jaw, he opened the door, looking down at the perfect black sleekness of the passenger seat. He eased down into it. It seemed to have been molded especially for him. He fingered the dash. The shifter. He laughed when he saw that from the rearview mirror hung a little cap gun on a chain. It was a Hopalong Cassidy Schmidt, beautifully chromed, with black grips bearing the white image of Hoppy’s face. Coal remembered when he and Larry had both gotten these guns, back in fifty-six. His mother had his tucked away somewhere, safe in storage, but he had never dreamed Larry still had his too. He reached up and gave the old cap gun a swing. What memories. Memories of a simple, joyful time. Coal looked to his left, to the place Larry would have sat if they had been riding together. Just for a moment, he saw his old buddy watching him, grinning. Sure as shooting, if Larry were there, he would have been making fun of his mustache, calling him a big city gigolo. Coal smiled. And then he felt Kathy’s hand lay gently on his shoulder. “He would have been so happy to take you for a drive in it, Coal.” And Coal Savage broke down at last and wept.
Posted on: Wed, 01 Oct 2014 02:08:36 +0000
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