They tumbled down into the cool grass together and Tess shot forward to lick Benjy’s face with her long, rough tongue. He laughed and made to push her away, but he didn’t keep the distance for long and, within a minute or two, he found himself wiping warm slobber from his face once more.

His breath finally calming, Benjy flipped himself over onto his back and stared up at the few clouds that dotted the otherwise clear, blue sky. He plucked a long blade of grass from the soil and popped it into the corner of his mouth, just the way his father did. Tess lay on her side – she couldn’t lie comfortably on her stomach any more – her head nestled in the crook of his elbow, panting hard.

‘You know, someday I’m gonna leave this place, old girl,’ said Benjy, the grass twitching with each word. ‘I know Daddy wants me to stay here and become a ranch hand. He won’t quit talkin’ about it.’ He lowered his voice in an attempt at an impersonation. ‘Son, you gotta learn the business from the dust up, just the way I did and my daddy did and his daddy did before him!’ He paused to switch the blade of grass to the other side of his mouth. ‘But that ain’t for me.’

Tess yawned widely and settled back down against his arm, her breathing slow and regular. ‘I’m headin’ to the big city, Tess – and I’m takin’ you with me when I go. I won’t spend my life chasin’ cattle, no sir. I’m gonna make somethin’ out of myself. Maybe I’ll be a clerk in a city bank like Miss Hunnerford’s brother, or work in a corner drugstore and meet all kinds of interesting folks. Who knows?’

Benjy fell silent, his gaze swimming from one cloud to the next, trying to identify familiar shapes in them. That one over in the direction of the church looked a little like a jack rabbit – if it had been in a fight and only had one ear left. And that big one just coming over the horizon was a dead ringer for the circus tent that had pitched up in town back in the spring. He closed his eyes and pictured himself back there – a stick of cotton candy in one hand, and a ticket to the show in the other. He’d sat next to Jane from school on the crowded, wooden benches and – as the tumblers entertained the audience from the ring below – he’d abandoned his cotton candy to take her hand in his and squeeze it tightly. He could almost feel it there, right now …

‘Benjamin! Benjamin, wake up!’

Benjy’s eyes snapped open, and he found himself in the dark. Had he slept past nightfall? If he had, he was late for supper and in for another lecture from his mother. But no – the sun was still out, if a little lower in the sky. There was a shadow lying over him. The shadow of a tall man in a wide hat.

Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Benjy squinted up at the figure standing over him. ‘Daddy?’ Tess, still lying beside him, rolled herself gingerly onto her stomach and climbed to her feet.

‘I was hoping I’d find you out here,’ said his father, leaning against the fence and resting a dusty, booted foot up on one of the wooden struts. ‘Tess, too.’

Benjy clambered to his feet, noticing his father’s horse nearby, grazing on the long grass. He must have been deep asleep not to have heard them coming. ‘Why’s that, Daddy?’

His father waited a long time before answering. ‘Mr Williams, the veterinarian, came over to take a look at one of the calves. The scrawny one that never leaves its mother’s side, and got the eye infection a while back.’

‘I know the one. Is it OK?’

His father nodded. ‘The calf is fine. But Mr Williams also had the results from the tests he ran on Tess a few weeks back.’ Responding to her name, the dog padded over so the rancher could reach down and scratch her behind one of her ears.

‘Did he bring medicine for her?’

‘Nope.’

‘Then what?’ Benjy looked down at Tess, suddenly nervous. ‘Is he going to take her back to his office and operate on her? You said he might have to do that.’

His father turned, and it was then that Benjy realised he was carrying his shotgun. ‘Tess is an old dog, Benjy,’ he said. ‘She’s had her time, and now she’s sick.’

Tears began to sting Benjy’s eyes. ‘But she can get well!’ he exclaimed. ‘I know she can.’

‘No, she can’t,’ said her father firmly. ‘And it ain’t fair to let her suffer.’ Standing up straight, he opened the breach on the shotgun and pulled a shell from his coat pocket.

Benjy grabbed his father’s arm, panicking. ‘No, Daddy!’ he pleaded. ‘You can’t!’

His father shook his arm free. ‘I will do what has to be done!’ he said, slotting the shell into place and snapping the shotgun closed. ‘Tess is a working dog, and she deserves to be treated with respect – and if that means ending her pain, then that is what I will do.’

The tears were flowing freely down Benjy’s face now. He called Tess to him and held her again, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. ‘Please, Daddy! No!’

‘Now, you can either be a man about it and help me find a pleasant shady spot for Tess’s final resting place, or you cry like a baby and run home to your momma. Which is it to be?’

Tess began to lick the tears from Benjy’s cheeks.

‘Well, boy?’

Chapter 5

Clara and Dr Ellison found the source of their scream in an empty side ward at the far end of the corridor. To their surprise, it wasn’t a patient.

‘Who is it?’ hissed Clara as they approached a young male doctor backed against the open window, staring down in horror at something beside one of the beds. Tears were streaming down his face. ‘Do you know him?’

‘Andrew Ross,’ replied Dr Ellison. ‘He’s a junior here, just out of training. I’ve been working as his mentor for the past few months.’ She called out to him. ‘Andrew. It’s Mairi. What’s wrong?’

But the young doctor didn’t answer. His eyes remained locked to something on the floor.

‘OK,’ said Clara calmly. ‘Andrew … we’re coming to you …’ She began to edge her way around the end of the bed, Dr Ellison behind her – then they saw what he was staring at.

A burst blood bag lay on the ground, its contents spilled into a sticky red puddle. And from that puddle, a head rose up. It was the head of a young woman, possibly beautiful – but it was difficult to tell. The bloody head gazed up at Andrew Ross with a lascivious smile and licked its scarlet lips.

‘I never loved you, Andy,’ it said. ‘I wanted you to find out about me and Chet all along!’

‘No! Please, Sophie,’ Andrew begged. ‘Please … no.’

Dr Ellison paled. ‘Oh my God!’

‘What is it?’ asked Clara. ‘Who is it?’

‘His wife, Sophie,’ Dr Ellison explained. ‘Or at least, she was. She was killed in a car accident – with another man. She told Andrew she was going to Austin to look after her sick mother, but ended up beneath the wheels of a truck on her way to a Fort Worth motel. It destroyed him. He’s only just returned to work.’

‘Get something to cover it up,’ said Clara. Dr Ellison ran to the nearest bed and began to pull off the sheet.

‘I forgive you, Sophie,’ cried Andrew, pressing himself further back against the window frame. ‘I don’t care who you were seeing behind my back. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.’

‘Forgive me?’ slavered the head. ‘I don’t want your forgiveness. I want him!’

‘Andrew!’ said Clara. ‘Don’t listen to it. That’s not Sophie. It’s called the Shroud, and I think it’s trying to upset you. Don’t let it do that.’

But Andrew continued to stare in horror at the head of his dead wife.

‘All those nights I waited at home alone,’ snarled the glistening head. ‘You drove me to it, Andy! You drove me into another man’s arms!’

‘But I had to work late,’ Andrew said, the words almost soundless. ‘I had patients to treat.’

‘And I had a husband – but he wasn’t man enough for the job!’

Andrew’s face crumpled. ‘Please, come back to me, Sophie!’ he cried, sitting back on the frame of the open window, the breeze ruffling the back of his shirt.


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