Odd Billy Todd (28 page)

“Well. . .” Jerry looked thunderstruck. “I guess miracles do still happen.”

“Might go easy on ‘er,’ Billy cautioned. “I think Shelly’s had what some folks call a ‘moment o’ clarity’. Her eyes is open, now, and she ain’t really likin’ what she see’s. She want’s to be able to take care o’ herself, and help you and Toby protect the farm.”

“Her and Rhonda want a greenhouse, too,” he added with a grimace. “We’ll have to see can we come up with somethin’. Seems your girl has been readin’ up on gardenin’. She was resigned to wait til spring, but o’ course Rhonda had to go and mention a greenhouse,” he groused a little. “Now they’re all up in a hullabaloo about gettin’ one, and startin’ in on growin’ right now.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” Jerry had to admit. “And even though it’s a bit o’ work, I don’t mind it, seein’ as how Shelly is startin’ to come around.”

“Figured you’d feel that way,” Billy nodded. “Told’em we’d see about it, maybe later on this week, or next for sure. Ain’t really got no idea where to look, though, to be honest.”

“Well, I don’t know about finding’ an actual greenhouse,” Jerry admitted. “But I do have an idea how we can make one outta scratch, so to speak.”

“I’m listenin’.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The next day was clear, but a bit cool. There was no wind, for which Billy was thankful.

Shelly had chosen a light weight AR model like Rhonda’s. She had also chosen herself a nice S&W 6906, a small, but capable handgun with a good mag capacity. She liked the feel of it, she had said.

Rhonda had also showed her a small revolver, a S&W model 60. A stainless five shot, the little gun was about a fine a hideout gun ever made, Billy figured. He had one in his safe that had belonged to his mother.

Billy had added a shotgun to the mix, wanting Toby to be familiar with the 870. He had several, thanks to his and Rhonda’s ‘foraging’, and he wanted to give Toby one, if he didn’t already have one. Sometimes, Billy figured, a good twelve gauge was just plain nice to have around. There was also a 10/22, along with a Ruger Mk II pistol, both for Shelly to practice her form on, before trying the heavier stuff.

“We all ready?” he asked, as Rhonda came bouncing out of the house. She had packed a lunch for the both of them. Shelly was bringing one for her and Toby as well.

“Reckon,” Billy nodded. “Sure you got everything?”

“Yep,” Rhonda smiled. “You know, I think this is great. Shelly really seemed to be waking up. She might be changing for the better.”

“You say so,” Billy murmured. He wasn’t convinced.

“You know, you gave Toby a chance,” Rhonda reminded him.

“He earned it,” Billy corrected. “Didn’t give him nothin’. Reckon she can earn her’s too.” Shaking her head in amusement, Rhonda finished packing.

By the time the two of them had mounted up, Shelly and Toby were riding up, having come through the woods. Jerry was with them, and waved from a distance as he started up the hill to the Franklin place.

“All ready to go?” Rhonda asked Shelly as the two rode up.

“Yeah,” Shelly nodded, casting a glance at the stone faced Billy. “Little scared, I guess, but I’m ready.”

“Well, let’s go, then,” Rhonda smiled. With Rommel and Dottie leading, the four made their way down the trail to the gravel pit. Billy sat looking at the pit, frowning.

“Wait,” he ordered, dismounting.

“What is it?” Rhonda asked, frowning.

“Just wait,” Billy told her, looking at the range. Rhonda waited for a minute, then asked again;

“What’s wrong?”

“Somethin’ ain’t right,” Billy said softly. “I just. . .I can’t put my finger on it, but. . .it just ain’t.” He continued looking, and suddenly his he realized what it was.

“The target’s up,” he said softly, un-slinging his rifle.

“What?” Rhonda asked. Toby hadn’t said anything. Instead he dismounted, handing his reigns to his sister, and turned to watch their backs. He unlimbered his own rifle as he did so.

“The target,” Billy nodded, still looking around. “We left them all down. One’s back up, now.”

“Huh,” Rhonda grunted, seeing it now that Billy had pointed it out.

How the hell does he do that? she wondered, not for the first time.

Billy was walking slowly toward the shooting area, looking at the ground. She saw him squat down, and pick up something shiny. He held the shell casing to his nose, then examined it. He rose, walking back to her.

“We policed all our brass, right?” he asked, handing her the round.

“Yeah, so I could reload it,” Rhonda nodded, taking the case.

“Did we count it?”

“I did, yeah,” Rhonda was studying the casing. “This ain’t ours, anyway. It’s the wrong brand.”

“It’s not recent,” Billy told her. “And there aren’t many. Looks like someone fired off about twenty rounds, and quit. Just makin’ sure the gun would work, or sightin’ it in, most like.”

“Who could it be?” Rhonda asked, looking around.

“Anybody,” Billy shrugged. “Rommel,” he spoke to the big dog. “Search,” he ordered when Rommel looked at him, waving toward the trees around the pit. Rommel set off at once.

“He does anything you tell him, like that?” Shelly asked.

“Anything I trained him to do,” Billy nodded, eyes never leaving the dog.

Rommel made a complete round of the pit, then returned to Billy’s side. Billy leaned down and ruffed his head.

“He didn’t find nothin’,” Billy told them. “I say we go on about our business.”

“How do you know?” Shelly asked. It wasn’t a challenge, just curiosity.

“He would have stayed where ever he found something,” Billy told her. “Let’s unload, and get started,” he told Rhonda. “One of us can keep watch. Fact, that’s why you brought me along, as I recall,” he added, grinning.

“So it was,” Rhonda smiled. “Have to get something out of ya, all the food you eat,” she teased.

Billy watched as the two of them started, Rhonda going over the safety routine again, and showing Shelly how to load the 10/22, and get a sight picture.

Toby walked up to where Billy was watching, still keeping a careful watch on their back.

“Reckon we need to worry?” he asked.

“Don’t think so,” Billy shrugged. “But it pays to be careful. Could be somebody we ain’t seen yet survived. This place ain’t no secret. Lot’s o’ people used to come here to shoot. Sight in scopes for deer season, plink, what have you.”

“Someone could o’ just wanted to see if their rifle worked, or if the site was on.”

“But it could have been someone else, yeah?” Toby prodded.

“Sure,” Billy nodded. “Ain’t no way o’ knowin’, though, unless we just happen on’em when they’re here. If they was just checkin’ the rifle, then I doubt they’ll be back,” he added.

“Okay,” Toby nodded, and fell silent.

The two of them split their time between watching Rhonda teach Shelly to shoot, and watching the area around them.

Billy was fairly confident that no one would bother them, but then he’d been fairly confident that he wouldn’t wind up in the position he was in now, too. He figured that anything was possible, now days.

Shelly was hesitant at first, but Rhonda was patient. The hours she had spent the day before were also paying off. Shelly knew a good deal already thanks to that, and she eagerly applied it to the task of learning to handle the weapon.

After almost two hours, and two hundred rounds of .22, Rhonda decided it was time to try the bigger weapons.

Following instructions carefully, Shelly loaded the Carbon-15, and raised it to her shoulder.

“Remember,” Rhonda told her. “Squeeze the trigger, just like before. Don’t forget there’ll be recoil this time, too. It’ll kick a little.”

She forgot.

The rifle held too loosely in her hands, it flew up, and the rear sight popped her lightly in the head.

“Ow!”

“Told you,” Rhonda was unsympathetic. “There’s recoil. I explained recoil. Hold the rifle firmly, and pull it into your shoulder. That will minimize it. Try it again.

Shelly reluctantly raised the rifle again, sighted, and squeezed the trigger. This time she held onto the rifle. And was delighted to see she had hit the target.

“Cool!” she exclaimed.

“Be cooler when you do it again,” Rhonda grinned. “Go on, shoot it!”

Shelly willingly cranked the whole magazine out, concentrating on being accurate. Now that she had hit the target once, she wanted to do it every time.

Billy was walking around the entrance to the pit, having ordered Toby to stay put, and keep an eye out. Billy was looking for anything that would give him an idea as to who had been here since their last visit.

Look though he did, however, there was nothing to find. No boot tracks, tire tracks, and the only horseshoe prints were their own.

Maybe they walked in through the woods, he decided, after a minute. He wasn’t about to go looking though, not with Shelly blasting away at the targets. Shrugging, he walked back to Toby’s side, and watched the ‘lessons’.

*****

Shelly turned out to be a pretty fair shot. She wasn’t as good as Toby, and nowhere near Rhonda or Billy, but for someone who hadn’t really ever shot a gun before, she did well.

Watching her use the 9mm was a little funny, as she took longer to get the hang of it. Her wrist was weak, and that caused the little semi-auto to stovepipe a good bit.

She finally worked it out, however, and was looking overly pleased with herself by the time she’d finished.

“We get back, you’ll have to strip it down and clean it. Oil it, and put it back together,” Rhonda informed her.

“Okay,” Shelly nodded. She’d learned to disassemble and reassemble both weapons the day before.

“What now?” Rhonda asked, looking at Billy.

For the next few minutes, Billy worked with Toby on the shotgun. He didn’t need much instruction, but, as Billy had feared, the youngster had no experience with buckshot.

“Man, that would tear a man clear in half,” Toby whistled lowly, seeing the damage that ‘double-ought’ had done to the wooden target frame.

“Always a buryin’ with buckshot,” Billy nodded. “What my pa used to say, anyhow. Ain’t good at much distance, but say, twenty, twenty-five yards, it’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Toby nodded. The two walked back to where the women were standing.

“You want to shoot any?” Rhonda asked. Billy shook his head.

“Nah.”

“We ready to go, then?”

“‘Spect so,” Billy nodded. Rhonda and Shelly had policed their brass while Billy had shown Toby the shotgun. They put away their stuff, and mounted up.

With Rommel again leading, they set out on the return trip. At the last minute, Billy stopped them.

“Let’s do something else,” he said suddenly. He led them down another trail.

“What we doin’ this for?” Rhonda asked, pulling alongside him.

“Ain’t smart to use the same trail all the time,” he shrugged. “Just bein’ careful.” She nodded in understanding. Things were different now.

“This won’t take no longer, anyway,” he offered.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. Rommel ranged a little, but not as much on the unfamiliar ground. Dottie stayed in front of the horses, but much closer. She did keep her eyes on Rommel, always taking her cues from him.

They left the woods almost straight across the road from the house.

“Well, I’ll be danged,” Toby chuckled. “I never even knew this was here.”

“Ain’t used much,” Billy shrugged. “Old fire trail, but the Forestry Service quit keepin’ it up long time ago. Comes in handy, now’n again.”

They eased up to the house, and dismounted. Everyone unsaddled their horse, though Toby and Shelly picketed theirs while Billy and Rhonda led theirs into the stables.

“Want to grain’em?” Billy asked Toby, indicating the Silvers’ horses.

“Nah, I’ll do it when I get home,” Toby shook his head. “They get a belly full o’ grain, they’ll be salty when we head back.” Billy nodded, pleased that the boy knew that.

Shelly broke her rifle and handgun down under Rhonda’s watchful eye. Rhonda quizzed her all during the process, with questions about safety, mechanics, and other details.

“She’s pickin’ things up pretty good,” Toby admitted grudgingly, watching.

“She’s had a eye opening’ experience,” Billy nodded, his voice quiet. “That deal in Franklin made her think about things, I reckon.”

“Yeah,” Toby looked at the ground. “That. . .that was a bad business.”

“It was,” Billy nodded again. “Could happen anywhere. Always could, o’ course, but these days I’d say it’s way more likely than before.”

Toby nodded, thinking about that. There was no more law. Not anymore.

“Reckon how dad and them are makin’ out?” he asked, wanting to talk about something else.

“Was just wonderin’ that myself.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Mornin’ folks,” Jerry called, as he rode up to the Franklin house.

Have to start callin’ it something else now, I guess, he told himself.

“Morning Jerry!” Ralph greeted enthusiastically.

“You’re awful bright and shiny this mornin’,” Jerry chuckled.

“Yeah. We got the truck unloaded, finally. Took til near dark to do, but we’re about half settled in. Makes us feel more at home.”

“I ‘spect so,” Jerry nodded.

“We’ll be ready in a just a sec,” George told him. “Reckon it’s just us two goin’. Women want to finish settin’ up house. Now we got the heavy lifting’ done, we’re just under foot, it seems.”

“Know that feelin’ well,” Jerry laughed. “Reckon we’ll ride up yonder a bit,” he pointed down the road, opposite of the direction they had entered. “Couple houses up there. We ain’t looked at’em, so I got no idea what we’ll find.”

“Suits us,” Ralph replied, and George nodded. The two quickly finished checking their horses, and climbed aboard. Ralph whistled sharply, and a large male Anatolian came bounding around the house. The dog drew up sharply seeing Jerry and his horse.