Carnal Innocence

his decision to face Austin. Far better to have slunk off to Greenville or even Vicksburg for a few days. What the hell had made him think that pride and honesty were worth a fist in the eye?
    Worse yet was the fact that Edda Lou was probably off somewhere smirking at all the trouble she’d caused. The more he thought about it, the surer he was that Austin had battered him for no good reason. Edda Lou wasn’t about to have an abortion. Not that Tucker figured she’d turn from one on moral or maternal grounds. But if she wasn’t pregnant, she wouldn’t have any hold on him.
    A hold, he thought miserably, that would last the rest of his life.
    Nothing took hold of you like family, he thought. And his blood would mix with Edda Lou’s in the baby she was carrying. All the good and bad there was between them would stir around, leaving it up to God orfate or maybe just timing to determine which traits endured.
    He took a long swallow of beer, then rested the bottle against his eye again. It wasn’t any use thinking about something that wasn’t going to happen for months yet. He was better off worrying about the almighty present.
    He hurt, and if he didn’t feel so damn stupid about the whole mess, he’d have called Doc Shays.
    To lull himself, he let his thoughts drift to more pleasant matters.
    Caroline Waverly. She was as pretty as one of those tall, glossy ice-cream parfaits. The kind that cooled you off and made you greedy for more. He grinned to himself as he remembered the snooty look she’d given him in Larsson’s that afternoon.
    That queen-to-peasant look. Christ, it made him want to just scoop her right up.
    Not that he had any plans to. He was swearing off women awhile. Not only did his body hurt, but he figured his luck was a bit shaky. Still, it was pleasant to think about it. He liked the way her voice sounded, all soft and smoky, so different from her cool, hands-off look.
    He wondered just what he’d have to do to convince her to let him get his hands on. Tucker fell asleep with a smile on his face.
    “Tuck.”
    He muttered and tried to shrug off the hand shaking his shoulder. The sudden movement brought pain back with a bang. He swore, opened his eyes.
    “Jesus, can’t a man get any peace around here?” He blinked up at Burke. The shadows were lengthening, and his first thought was Della hadn’t called him in for supper. His second, as he swung around to sit, was that his stomach was so sore, it was just as well. “Remember when the Bonny brothers and their crazy cousin jumped us down at Spook Hollow?”
    Burke kept his hands jammed in his pockets. “Yeah.”
    “We were younger then.” Tucker flexed his swollenknuckles. “I don’t recollect it hurt so damn much taking a licking then. Why don’t you go in, get us a couple beers?”
    “I’m on duty, Tucker. I gotta talk to you.”
    “Talk better with a beer.” But when he looked up and focused on Burke’s face, his quick grin faded. “What is it?”
    “It’s bad. Real bad.”
    And he knew, as if it had already been said. “It’s Edda Lou, isn’t it?” Before Burke could answer, Tucker was up and pacing, his hands dragging through his hair. “Oh, Jesus. Jesus Christ.”
    “Tuck—”
    “Give me a minute. Goddammit.” Sick, furious, he pounded a fist against the tree. “You’re sure?”
    “Yeah. It was like Arnette, and Francie.”
    “Holy God.” He leaned his brow against the rough bark and struggled to keep the image out of his mind. He hadn’t loved her, had gotten to the point where he didn’t even like her, but he had touched her, tasted her, been inside her. He felt a well of grief rise up that was staggering, not only for her, but for the child he hadn’t even wanted.
    “You ought to come on and sit down.”
    “No.” He turned from the tree. His face had changed. It had taken on that hard, dangerous look so few were allowed to see. “Where did you find her?”
    “McNair Pond, just a couple hours ago.”
    “That’s less than a mile from here.” He thought first of his sister, of Della, of protection. Then he thought of Caroline. “She—Caroline—she shouldn’t be alone there.”
    “Josie’s with her now, and Carl.” Burke rubbed a hand over his face. “Josie bullied her into drinking some of Miss Edith’s apple brandy. She’s—Caroline—she’s the one who found the body.”
    “Fuck.” He sat on the hammock again, put his head in his hands. “What the hell are we going to do, Burke?