Page 7 of Refuge for Ailsa

“Okay, I didn’t think I wanted to come, but you had me at sawmill gravy. I’ll be there. What time?”

“One thirty? So they’ll be home from church?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“And Tav?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Can you at least tell me you’re happy for me?”

“Maur, ofcourseI’m happy for you! I’m your big brother! If you’re happy, I’m happy, honey. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Thank you. Love you, big brother.”

“Love you too, sweetie. See you Sunday.” Sunday afternoon at his parents’ house for fried chicken and sawmill gravy. Green beans? Black-eyed peas? Turnip greens? Didn’t matter.

As long as there was fried chicken and sawmill gravy, he was in.

* * *

After the excitementof the first couple of weekdays, the rest were uneventful. CaptainMabry had asked Tavish to work on Saturday in Chester’s place. The older officer’s grandkids were coming to town, and he really wanted to spend time with them. Tavish didn’t mind. If he had grandkids, he was sure he’d want to spend time with them too. Then he snickered.

At the rate he was going, if he had any, he’d be almost dead with old age by the time they arrived.

Saturday was the day he absolutely had to patrol HerringtonLake, so he picked up a boat from the parking spot for it at the storage area and headed to the ramp. Thank goodness there was no holiday in the near future and he didn’t have that worry. Summer was bad enough for conservation officers without adding in additional reasons for backwoods bumpkins to grab a bunch of Tannerite and blow shit up.

He launched and tied off the little jon boat, then drove his truck back up the ramp and parked it in the lot. By the time he turned back around, another boat had appeared on the water, and he knew he had his work cut out for him. From what he could tell, there were at least four in his field of vision and probably more around the point. After writing citations to the first boater he checked out for no personal flotation devices, he powered toward another jon boat. He recognized the registration numbers on the side?it was a rental from one of the local fishing equipment suppliers. As soon as he pulled alongside, the two men on board turned toward him, so he reached into his pocket, pulled out his badge, and held it aloft. “KDFWR Conservation Officer TavishStewart.”

Both men reached into their pockets, and he laughed when they flipped open their ID wallets. “Texas Department of Fish and Wildlife OfficerConor Paxton, and this is OfficerMorris Young.”

Tavish stuffed his ID wallet back into his pocket as the other men did the same, and there were handshakes all around. “What are you guys doing all the way up here?”

“We’ve got a few friends who have friends up in this end of the state. They said the fishing’s great up here, so we decided we’d check it out. Are we in the right spot?” Morris asked.

“As good as can be expected. You missed prime crappie season, but everything else is around.”

“Sounds good. Got any recommendations for places to eat? We’ve gotta have dinner later,” Conor asked.

“Tell you what. Here’s my card. You get ready to haul out, let me know and I’ll meet you somewhere. I have a few suggestions. They’re not fancy but they’re good.”

Conor smiled. “Good is all we’re looking for. Thanks, Tavish. Appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck on the fishing. And call me Tav. Everybody does.”

“Got it, Tav! Later! Keep it frosty!” Morris called out, and Tavish laughed aloud. It was one of his favorite sayings from the TV seriesJustified, and he didn’t think there was a Kentuckian alive who didn’t know about ConstableBob.

Sure enough, about six thirty, Tavish answered his phone to find Morris on the other end, and he met the two men at Mossy’s Barbecue. They talked, laughed, and ate until well after eight. That was when Tavish grinned and pointed. “We’re getting the evil eye from the server. I think they want to go home.”

“Don’t blame ’em. I want to go home too.” Conor sat there for a minute, then laughed. “No, I don’t. My girl doesn’t care about fishing, so I leave her behind, but damn, I miss her! Your woman hate your job?” he asked Tavish.

“No woman.”

“No woman? A wealthy, high-status man like yourself has no woman?” Morris asked, laughing, and Conor was laughing too.

“Nope. No woman. Quit looking a while back. I’ve got one who just won’t leave me alone, and we weren’t really in a relationship.” Tavish rolled his eyes. “If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s a clingy woman.”

“Depends on how they’re clinging, know what I mean?” Morris asked and laughed loudly. “Mine clings to parts of me that I wish she wouldn’t let go of!”

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