Carnal Innocence

tired and sweaty just to get from one point to another?”
    “Of course.” She smiled to herself. “I don’t know what got into me.” Sighing, she settled back against his chest while the first runners took their marks. “So, you don’t enter any event?”
    “Well now, there is one I usually go for.”
    She turned her head to look back at him. “Which?”
    “Wait and see.”
    Greased pigs? Caroline had thought she’d gotten into the spirit of things, but when she stood behind the temporary paddock in the town square listening to the porcine squeals, she realized she hadn’t come close.
    Tucker had bowed off from eating pies, he didn’t choose to shoot, and he yawned at the thought of racing. But he was standing in the paddock, stripped to the waist, waiting for the signal to go catch a lard-coated pig.
    Baffled, Caroline rested an elbow on Cy’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
    “Oh, just fine now,” he assured her. “I chucked most of it up, and the rest is settling all right.” Hefingered the blue ribbon pinned proudly to his T-shirt. “Mr. Tucker’s going to win.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Always does. He can move real quick when he’s a mind to.” He let out a whoop with the rest of the crowd. “Here they go!”
    The shouts and laughter from the onlookers were as wild as the squeaks from the pigs and the curses from the men pursuing them. As an extra incentive, the ground had been watered and churned to mud. Men slipped and sloshed in it, belly-flopped and back-flipped. Pigs squirted out of questing hands.
    “Oh, why don’t I have a camera?” Caroline let out a crow of laughter when Tucker skidded on his backside. He twisted when a pig raced across his knees, but came up empty.
    “That FBI doctor’s good!” Cy shouted, cheering when Teddy tackled a pig and nearly held on. “Might’ve had it if Bobby Lee hadn’t tripped over him. Mr. Tucker’s going for the big one. Come on, Mr. Tucker! Haul ’em up!”
    “An interesting contest,” Burns said as he stopped beside them. “I suppose dignity is sacrificed for the thrill of the hunt.”
    Caroline nearly shot him an impatient look, but she didn’t want to miss anything. “You’re keeping your dignity, I see.”
    “I’m afraid I don’t see the point in wallowing in mud and chasing pigs.”
    “You wouldn’t. It’s called fun.”
    “Oh, I agree. In fact, I’ve never been more entertained.” He smiled down at Tucker, who was currently sprawled facefirst in the dirt. “Longstreet looks quite natural, don’t you think?”
    “I’ll tell you what I think,” she began, but Cy grabbed her arm.
    “Look! He’s got him! He’s got him, Miss Caroline.”
    And there was Tucker, slicked with mud and grease, holding a squirming pig over his head. When he grinned up at Caroline, she wished she’d had a dozen roses to throw.
    No spangle-suited matador had ever looked more charming.
    “‘To the victor go the spoils,’” Burns noted. “Tell me, does he get to keep the pig?”
    Caroline tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Until the butchering and pot luck supper next winter. Excuse me. I want to go congratulate the winner.”
    “One moment.” He blocked her way. “Are you still staying at Sweetwater?”
    “For the time being.”
    “You might want to reconsider. It isn’t wise sleeping under the same roof with a murderer.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    Burns glanced over to where Dwayne and Tucker were washing down mud with a beer. “Perhaps you should ask your host. I can tell you that I’ll be making an arrest tomorrow, and the Longstreets won’t have much to cheer about. Enjoy the rest of the festivities.”
    Saying nothing, Caroline latched on to Cy and pushed by him.
    “What did he mean, Miss Caroline?”
    “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” By the time she’d worked her way through the crowd, Tucker was gone. “Where did he go?”
    “He probably went down to McGreedy’s to hose off with the others. Most everybody’ll be packing up to go down to Sweetwater for picnics before the fireworks. They’ll be opening the carnival, too.”
    Frustrated, Caroline stopped. She couldn’t talk to him surrounded by a bunch of wet, back-slapping men. She needed him alone. Rising on her toes, she scanned heads and faces. “There’s Della. Why don’t you catch up with her, ride back to Sweetwater? I’ll wait for Tucker.”
    “No’m. Mr. Tucker said I was to stay with you when he wasn’t