Levon Cade: Volumes 7-11 by Dixon Chuck

Author:Dixon, Chuck
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781685495107
Publisher: Rough Edges Press
Published: 2023-12-12T00:00:00+00:00

13

His beard crinkled with frost while Wesley Ruskin worked on dressing the buck. Vapor drifted from the warmth of the open carcass, which was split from throat to rump, the rib cage held open with a stick.

He’d hung it up the night before to let it bleed out into a pit he’d dug for the purpose. The pit was filled with dirt now to hide the guts, forelegs, hooves, and the scent of blood from the foxes and coyotes and wild dogs that roamed the ridges around the holler. He’d heard a bear once back in the summer and assumed it was off somewhere, napping through the cold.

“Hey,” a voice called from the pines toward the foot of the gully. “I’m coming in. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” Wesley called back.

The man who called himself Levon Cade emerged from the morning gloom with a pack over his shoulder. His hands were empty. No rifle.

“Big buck. That the same one my girl had in her sights?” he asked as he set the canvas pack down.

“Yeah. He’s an old one. Thought I’d make way for a young buck to make his move, you know?” Wesley worked his curved skinning blade to peel back the hide, revealing lean muscles over ribs marbled with thin ripples of yellow fat.

“You’re gonna have to let that soak awhile.”

“I know. Old fella’s gonna be gamey as hell. Got some wild onions, dried mustard. Ran outta vinegar a while back.”

“Maybe this’ll help.” Levon rummaged through the pack and pulled out a bottle of red wine.

“That’ll sure do. You always bring vino along when you hike?”

“This pack’s not for me. It’s for you. Brought you some clean socks, some Payday bars, some chocolate, salt, sugar, and a couple cans of coffee creamer.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“So the next time I come up here, I don’t have to drink that nasty-ass coffee of yours.”

“I’m nobody to you.” Wesley set his knife on a tarp next to his saw and a longer filleting knife.

“I live about ten miles that way.” Levon nodded to the south. “No one lives between my back property line and here. We’re practically neighbors.”

“Then let me make you some coffee.” Wesley reached for a stained strip of terry cloth to wipe his hands.

“I’ll make it. You keep on trimmin’ that buck.”

Levon had brought a steel mug for himself and poured a serving of heavily sweetened and creamed coffee for each of them.

“Damn, that’s good,” Wesley said after draining his mug.

He returned to dressing the buck and Levon helped, holding the carcass from swinging while it was being hided. Once it was stripped of its skin, they hoisted it higher to keep it out of the reach of predators. It would hang there in the cold air for a week or more to age the meat properly.

They raised the buck out of reach and tied off the hoist line around a tree bole. Wesley asked, “You sure you don’t want to take some home with you?”

“I might take a haunch next time I come up.

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