Divine Evil

his sympathies were with Matt? he thought. But sympathies aside, he had a job to do.
    “Your dogs aren't staying on the farm, Matt. That's the problem.”
    Matt grinned. “They always liked to shit on Hawbaker land.”
    Cam couldn't help but smile back. There had been a running feud between the Doppers and the Hawbakers for three generations. It had kept them all happy. Lighting a cigarette, he leaned companionably on the fence.
    “I miss seeing old man Hawbaker riding his hay baler.”
    Dopper pursed his lips. The fact was, he missed Haw-baker, too. Deeply. “I reckon he did what he thought hehad to do. And made a pretty profit.” He took out a dingy bandanna and blew his nose heartily. “But I'm staying put. As long as I'm breathing, I'm farming.”
    “I used to sneak over here and steal your corn.”
    “I know.” The resentment faded a bit as Dopper remembered. “I grow the best Silver Queen in the county. Always did, always will.”
    “Can't argue with that. We'd camp out in the woods over there and roast it over the fire.” He grinned up at Matt as he remembered the taste, sweet as sugar. “We thought we were putting one over on you.”
    “I know what goes on on my land.” He adjusted his cap. For a moment, the eyes that shifted to the far, deep woods were wary. “Never minded you pinching a few ears. ′Round here we take care of our own.”
    “I'll remember that come July.” He sighed a little. “Listen, Matt, there are kids over in the development. Lots of kids. Your three German shepherds are big bastards.”
    Dopper's jaw set again. “Ain't never bit nobody.”
    “Not yet.” Cam blew out a breath. He knew he could bring up the county leash law until his tongue fell off. Nobody paid much attention to it. But as much as he felt empathy with Dopper, he wouldn't risk having one of the dogs turn and bite some kid. “Matt, I know you don't want anyone hurt.” He held up a hand before Matt could protest. “I know, they're regular lapdogs. With you, maybe. But nobody can predict how they might react to strangers. If anything happens, your dogs go down, and your ass gets sued. Make it easy on everybody. Chain them up, build them a run, fence in part of your yard.”
    Dopper squinted at Cam, then spat. He had reasons for owning three big dogs. Good reasons. A man needed to protect himself and his family from …His gaze driftedtoward the woods again, then away. From whatever they needed protection against.
    He didn't like compromises. But he knew if he didn't make one, some snotty pissant from the ASPCA was going to come nosing around. Or some asshole flatlander was going to take him to court. He couldn't afford any shit-hole lawyer's fees.
    “I'll think about it.”
    In six weeks of trying, it was the closest Cam had nudged him to an agreement. He smoked in silence as he measured the man on the tractor. The dogs would be chained, he thought, because old Matt wouldn't risk them, or his farm.
    “How's the family?” Cam asked, wanting to end the interview on a friendly note.
    “Good enough.” Dopper relaxed in turn. “Sue Ellen done divorced that worthless car salesman she married.” He grinned at Cam. “You missed the boat with her first time around. Might be she'd take a look at you now that you got some money and a steady job.”
    Unoffended, Cam grinned back. “How many kids does she have now?”
    “Four. Fucker knocked her up every time she sneezed. Got herself a job, though. Clerking up to JC Penney's at that sonofabitching shopping center. Nancy's watching the youngest.” He glanced in the direction of the house, where his wife was busy with their youngest grandchild.
    He talked for a few minutes more, about his oldest boy, who should have been back from the feed and grain an hour ago, and his youngest, who was in college.
    “Imagine that boy figuring he had to go to school to learn how to farm.” Dopper spat again contemplatively. “Guess things do change, whether you want them to or not. Got to get back to work.”
    “They got chains in the hardware,” Cam said and pitched his cigarette. “Be seeing you, Matt.”
    Dopper watched him walk back toward his car, then shifted his gaze toward the huddle of houses in the distance. Fucking flatlanders, he thought, and revved up his tractor.
    Cam turned his car around, spewing up dust and gravel. He drove by the edge of Dopper's Woods, where the leaves were thick and green. A part of his mind swung back to childhood, to