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Daisy stepped through the hall and into the main room. Passing through, it was hard not to think of her Daddy. Buck could so easily still be in his rocker, creaking in the shadows and humming a low tune, whiskey bottle and cigarettes nearby.
“That truck’s got too much wear on it,” Daphne called out. “I don’t like worrying about you on the road alone, Daize—not all the way up to Odessa. You ride with Hank on Friday, hear?”
Letting the screen door slam behind her, Daisy didn’t respond. Crossing the driveway towards the barn, she listened to the creek. The freshet was high now, like it always was in spring, but it would dwindle to almost nothing in the heat of summer, especially if the season was dry.
Daddy had always liked sitting out on the porch, listening to what was left of Hobble Springs Creek as it babbled along to McGreers. He loved that creek. Buck had worked the Gallagher ranch until he’d had to hire a lawyer to protect his rights to it’s water. When the judge’s ruling favored the Gallaghers, Buck sent four hundred Black Baldies to market, forking over the proceeds for attorney’s fees and court costs.
Things were bad after that; he got behind on taxes and started drinking, hard. Then they lost the six-hundred acre ranch parcel to Hank’s father at tax sale. That’s when Momma cleared out.
But Daphne was right. Daddy must have liked Hank, because anytime she’d spoken against him, Buck had shushed her, “It’s not for him to account for his old man’s sins, Daisy Mae.”
And maybe it wasn’t. But if Red was in as bad shape as Hank said he was, Hank would soon inherit an extra six-hundred acres, all thanks to his daddy’s lies. That wasn’t right, either.
It felt dishonorable to take the ride Hank offered, but it was a six-hour trip to Odessa; she couldn’t think what she’d do, broke down on the side of a road with Gypsy stuck in the back of a hot trailer.
Daphne’s right. Daddy wouldn’t want me to miss a chance to qualify for finals, no matter what. And he did like Hank.
Hank had saved her weekend, maybe even her season. She’d brought home over six hundred dollars Sunday, but he’d refused to take even a penny for expenses, and insisted on buying her burger on the way home, too.
Still, she wanted to keep on hating Hank Gallagher. It was easier that way.
