Page 6 of Cowboy

“I ain’t stupid, boy. I read the computer. I know what they say about him, but he’s always been good to Autumn. Even bought her a new plane and lets her pick up other clients for extra money. She had one of them small propellor planes, and he didn’t like ridin’ in that. So, he financed a small jet for her.”

“Did your granddaughter and Mr. Liconitis have a personal relationship?” asked Cowboy.

“Oh, hell no,” laughed Clarice. “He’s old enough to be my beau, not hers. Besides, he’s got a wife he adores. She’s been sick lately, and Autumn has even taken her back and forth to her treatments when she can.”

“And who were you yelling at when I walked up?”

“The damn air traffic controller. Idiot. That boy barely passed math class. Not sure how he ever got to be an air traffic controller. Willie. Willie Staples.”

“And he said she didn’t file a correct flight plan?”

“That’s right. Which is stupid ‘cause it’s the same damn flight plan every time. So, whadya gonna do about it?” Cowboy chuckled. Yea, she was definitely like Mama Irene.

“Well, do you know of a place where I can rent some hiking and camping equipment?” The old woman grinned, nodding at him.

“Tell me what you need.” Cowboy listed off all the things he would need, and Clarice stood, standing beside the table. “Well, you comin’ or not?”

“Yes, ma’am, but what about the supplies?”

“Just follow me,” she said. He followed the old woman in her beat-up pickup truck. It looked to be held together by rust and prayers, although he was pretty sure the prayers were running out. When they pulled up to a small ranch house, he grinned at the horses in the pen.

“Beautiful horses,” he smiled.

“Yep. Folks will rent them out to ride the trails. I expect your truck’s got a hitch. You’re gonna need to haul the trailer with Creole and Abilene up to the trails and take it from there.”

“Creole? The horse’s name is Creole?” he laughed.

“Why’s that funny?”

“Ironic is probably the better word,” he muttered. “Do you have a copy of the old flight plans?”

“Yep. Come on in.”

He followed the woman inside to find a small but neatly decorated home. There were photographs of a little girl all over the walls, and he smiled at her freckles. The furniture seemed in good condition, a nice television sitting on the stand. Everything was updated but not overly expensive.

“Your home is nice,” he said.

“Thank you. Like I said, we make money from folks wanting to rent the horses. I sell the eggs the chickens lay, and I make the best pickles this side of the Mississippi. Autumn makes a good living, and we treat ourselves every now and then to something new for the house.”

“She isn’t married? No boyfriend?” he asked. Clarice stared at him, looking him up and down.

“You got a job?” she asked.

“I actually just retired. I’m a United States Navy SEAL.” There was an expression of surprise on her face, and she stepped back, staring at him.

“I guess you are special, aren’t you? You got a family to head home to?”

“My folks, cousins, friends. We own our own business in Louisiana.”

“Interestin’. No. She don’t have a husband or boyfriend. That girl is always too busy and too damn picky. Didn’t help none that her father was a lazy, swindling piece of manure.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, frowning at the old woman. Despite her tough exterior, he could tell that it bothered her to speak of the girl’s father.

“Follow me. We’ll get the tack loaded and an extra horse. Autumn will want to ride her own.”

“Ma’am, you need to be prepared that I might not be able to find that plane. I mean, something devastating could have happened.”

“Nothing has happened,” she said through clenched teeth. Cowboy stared at her and nodded. “Let’s go.”

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