Chapter Seventeen
I load my shotgun in aggravation.
I don ’ t know where these mad dogs keep coming from, but I ’ m sick and tired of getting letters delivered to my door about them.
“ We can ’ t go outside of the town limits because of them,” or “ Are you the Sheriff around here?” and “ Do something about it or we will.”
I don ’ t know who ’ s sending them, but they always find a way to make sure that I ’ ve got something to do, which normally doesn ’ t bother me much. Although, I guess this is a problem I should have been looking after to begin with.
I rake a hand back through my hair as I stand up, shotgun in hand, and place my Stetson on my head. If the sun blinds me, my aim won ’ t be worth shit, and I can ’ t afford to miss. Not to mention that I haven ’ t been feeling all that well lately.
Being out in the sun is starting to make me feel sick, and the attraction of the townsfolk only coming out at night to have their little rendezvous is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense to me.
What ’ s got me so riled up this time ‘ round is that the latest letter I ’ ve received is seemingly making threats against Elyse.
“ Kill the mad dog, or I ’ ll take your heart.”
It made my hands shake when I first read the letter. It robbed me of air to breathe and sent my heart racing faster than a wild horse through the desert.
Who would know about her in Crescent Oak is beyond me since she ’ s only been in the one or two times, but I can ’ t afford to let anything happen to her.
She ’ s the first woman that ’ s ever made me feel things I never thought I could, and it ’ s a high I can ’ t stop chasing.
I won ’ t stop chasing it because it ’ s everything that makes me feel alive.
Pushing the door open to the front of my home, I roll my shoulders and head up the main road.
As the sun starts to rise higher in the noon sky, I feel that familiar sense of nausea wash over me. I grunt as my mouth waters, but press on, and to my amusement, out of the corner of my eye, I can see roller shades being slightly lifted out of curiosity.
I know it has to be one of them that sent me the damn notes, so if they think I ’ m not going to round them after to find out who it was, they ’ re sorely mistaken.
I spit into the dirt as I keep walking, doing my best to keep the shotgun steady against my side. The longer I ’ m out in the sun, the more I ’ m starting to feel like I need to just turn the damn gun on myself.
Suddenly, a strong arm loops through one of mine and helps me as I continue on my way.
I glance over and then turn my eyes back to the road again when I realize it ’ s Sara Belle.
I never understood much about her except for the fact that she and Clemmy don ’ t get along and that she ’ s Silas ’ s right-hand bitch.
“ Come on, Boone. I ’ ll show you where it ’ s at.”
The memories of what happened after Sara Belle pointed out the “ mad dog” hit me harder than anything ever has.
I raised the shotgun with her holding me steady.
I cocked the hammer, took two unsteady steps forward, aimed, and fired.
Taking a deep breath, I look at Mollie, then down to Clem.
They can see it in my eyes that I remember now.
Mollie looks as sympathetic as she can, and Clem ’ s lower lip begins to tremble.
“ You told me that you saw her,” I say to her in a shaky tone.
“ I did,” Clemmy replies. “ Her headstone says, Elyse Danforth. The Nightingale.”
After a few deep breaths, I lock eyes with Silas again and nod.
“ Welcome to Crescent Oak.”