Mama Rides Shotgun by Deborah Sharp Read Free Book Online

assumed he had the perfect life. Guess it wasn’t so perfect after all.
    Mama sipped at her lemonade, then patted her mouth with her napkin. She looked around to see if anyone was listening. Then she lowered her voice to a whisper.
    “That wasn’t the worst of it, though. The poor woman ended up dying in some kind of accident at home, when Trey and Belle were still little. Everyone said she was drunk as could be. She probably never even knew the fall she took would turn out to be fatal.’’
    Suspicion made the hairs on my arms stand up straight. “Where was Barbara’s not-so-loving husband when she tripped and fell, Mama?’’
    “Lawton? He was up at the Capitol in Tallahassee, talking to the state legislature about agricultural exemptions for pasture land. It was an accident, pure and simple, Mace. She stumbled down some steps, is what I think I heard.’’ She clucked her tongue. “That’s not to say Lawton waited all that long before replacing the first Mrs. Bramble with the second.’’
    I pushed the rest of my steak around on the plate. Suddenly, I didn’t feel very hungry.
    “Did you and Daddy go to the funeral?’’
    “We did. It was way over in Polk County. Those poor children looked like they didn’t know what hit them. Lawton held onto them, one for each hand, as they lowered Barbara’s casket into the ground. The flowers were awful pretty, though, I have to say that. Lots of white roses and baby’s breath.’’
    A rush of sympathy for Trey and Belle washed over me.
    “How’d Lawton seem?’’ I asked.
    “Guilty-looking, if you want the truth. He knew what kind of husband he’d been. But his eyes stayed dry the whole way through. I can’t say the same for Johnny.’’
    My eyes automatically shifted to where the cook stood, too far away to overhear us.
    “Why not?’’ I asked.
    “Johnny sobbed like a baby, poor thing. When he walked up to pay his respects, he collapsed onto one knee and pounded his fist on Barbara’s casket. I think he might have thrown himself in there if some of Lawton’s ranch hands hadn’t pulled him away.’’
    We both glanced over at Johnny, who seemed to be on automatic pilot as he passed out the last pieces of strawberry pie. The granite was back in his jaw.
    I wondered if that tear I’d spotted earlier on his cheek had been shed for his old friend Lawton, or for Barbara, his one true love?

A funeral home van inched toward the gate that led from the Bramble ranch to State Road 64. Cracker Trail campers lined both sides of the narrow, crushed-shell road. Mama and I stood with the others, our flashlights and lanterns marking the route of Lawton’s last ride.
    The van stopped at the gate, its headlights shining into a vast blackness beyond the highway. The engine idled, a low rumble. Moths flitted in and out of the beams from our lights. One of Lawton’s ranch hands ran to unlock the gate. The rest of us stood silently, waiting.
    Doc Abel climbed from the passenger side of the van. Then he leaned in to talk to the driver, one arm resting on the open window. Finally, he straightened and gave a little pat to the side of the vehicle. The driver pulled on through the gate. We watched until his taillights on the highway turned to tiny red dots.
    “It’s a shame. He wasn’t that old of a man,’’ someone said.
    “Sixty-three or four, I heard,’’ someone else answered.
    As the crowd began to break up, Doc Abel walked with heavy steps toward Mama and me.
    “That part of the job never gets any easier.’’ He sounded older and more tired than he had just a few hours before. “There’s nothing like saying goodbye to a friend to make you realize your own mortality.’’
    Mama aimed her flashlight into the sky. “Are you a religious man, Doc? Because you know, the Bible promises us a reunion in heaven with those we’ve cared for here on earth.’’
    Doc was silent for a moment.
    “I’m a man of medicine, Rosalee. A man of science. That’s not the