Page 103 of The Cowboy and the Stray

We started at sunup. The dirt in that part of the pasture hadn’t been turned since Midge buried her last dog there, and that had taken a whole day. This time, it took half that, because there were more hands and less time.

Buck was the only one who made it look easy. He worked the shovel like he’d been born with it in his hand, turning up limestone and old roots with a grunt for every foot. Reid and Gray switched off when one’s shoulders started to spasm. Ash mostly stood watch, but she’d get in the hole when the others were spent, arms like wire, boots caked in mud. I took my turn, too, until my shoulders burned and back ached.

They didn’t talk much, not while the work was on. There was a rhythm to it. Three shovels of dirt, one stomp to flatten the side. Reid spat into the grass every few minutes, probably to keep from grinding his own teeth. Gray wiped sweat off his nose with the back of his hand, then used the same hand to grip the shovel again. The only sound was the metal hitting stone and the grasshoppers screaming in the brush.

We had three bodies to get rid of but one big grave. They didn’t deserve their own.

When the hole was deep enough, we dragged them in, one by one. There was a system. Buck grabbed the ankles, Gray the wrists, and they’d count to three before dropping. When the last one hit bottom, Lance, Buck took off his hat and wiped his head, then nodded at me.

“That’s all of ‘em, boss.”

I hated when he called me that. But I nodded back.

We stared down at the pile for a minute, letting the world go quiet.

Reid was the first to break. “We gonna say something?” He looked around, like maybe a priest was hiding in the grass.

Ash made a snarling noise. “Say what? They were pieces of shit.”

Gray flicked a pebble in the hole. “We could pray for their souls, if it helps.”

Reid wiped his face, streaked mud down his cheek. “I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“Then why ask?” Buck said.

Reid shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”

Nobody moved.

Ash said, “How about don’t come back.”

“Good enough for me,” I said.

Buck reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver coin. He tossed it in, and it landed on the young guy’s chest.

“Pay the toll,” Buck muttered. “Hope you land somewhere quieter.”

Even Ash went still at that. For a second, nobody said anything.

Then Buck looked up and grinned. “If you’re gonna haunt anyone, haunt the damn banker who paid you.”

Ash laughed, short and loud. She uncapped her flask, took a swallow, and lifted it in salute.

“To assholes staying dead,” she said.

Reid grabbed the shovel. “Let’s close it.”

The dirt went in slow at first. Then faster, as if the earth was hungry for it. When it was filled in, we flattened it as best we could, then carefully lined the grass back over it. When we’d started, we’d dug out big chunks of grass.

By the time we finished, nobody, but us would ever be able to tell where these bodies were buried.

Finally, Reid wiped his arm across his face. “You think that was it? That it ends with him?”

He meant Lance.

I said, “Yeah. He wouldn’t have told anyone. He wouldn’t have wanted his boss to know he had a loose end. He was always keeping secrets.”

Gray nodded. “Makes sense.”