Wild At Heart (Wild 2)

ot sure if having her here will make things better or worse for the man lying on the ground, his body broken.

Toby ignores a barking Gus and slinking Oscar as he strolls toward me, working a dirty rag over his motor-oil-coated hands. “How bad is it?” he asks grimly.

“Not sure yet. An ambulance is on its way.”

“Good luck makin’ it all the way in.” Muriel marches into the barn as if she owns the place. “Well, you gone and buried yourself. How’d you manage that?”

“Dear Lord, end me now,” Roy mutters, closing his eyes.

Muriel ignores him, pointing to the boards I already shifted off. “Let’s get those pieces farther back to give us some room.”

We set to work, dragging the wood away.

Muriel scowls at the beam. “Toby, you help me with this.” They grab hold of it together. “Bend with your knees!” she hollers, earning Toby’s eye roll. Between the two of them and some grunting, they pivot the beam around and off Roy. His arm, which he must have lifted to brace against the wood as it fell, is bent awkwardly and not moving.

Muriel stands over him with her hands on her hips, assessing the situation with a stern expression. “You put too much wood up there.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Can you wiggle your toes?”

“If I can’t, will you shoot me like you tried to shoot my dog?”

“Your right arm’s broken.”

“No shit.”

“What about your left one?”

Roy answers by raising his middle finger on his left arm and waggling it at her.

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. Apparently being rescued from a dire situation and in pain hasn’t softened him at all. A quick glance over at Toby confirms he’s struggling not to laugh, too.

Roy shifts as if attempting to sit up, but manages nothing more than a groan. “Think I’ll just stay here for a while, then.”

Muriel notes the empty pens. “Toby, go on and check on the goats. Calla, find some blankets inside so we can cover him up.”

“I don’t need a blanket and she’s not goin’ into my house!” Roy throws back, whatever civility I caught glimpses of earlier gone with Muriel’s presence.

“Yes, you do! Stop bein’ such a damn fool!”

“Come on.” Toby tugs on my sleeve and leads me out the door.

“Do they always fight like that?” The growing tension in the air is palpable.

“Pretty much. It’s like sport for them. You get used to it after a while.”

“I don’t know how.” I eye Roy’s little cabin. How often does he allow anyone inside?

“You’re probably gonna be the first person to step inside that place … ever,” Toby says, as if reading my mind.

I’m certainly not welcome to. “Do you think he has it booby-trapped?”

“Oh. Definitely.” Toby says with a mock-serious face before it splits into a grin. “Holler if you get caught in anything.” He walks toward the gate that leads to the clearing behind the barn where several goats graze.

“Hey, wait! Did you hear about that bear that’s been coming around?” Is it hiding in the tree line, watching us at this very moment?

“Yeah, Mom said something.” He seems unconcerned.