Cat on the Scent

            Sarah, in a pale melon gown complete with hoop skirt, rushed out. Smart enough not to get between them, she hissed, “Stop it!”

            The men paid no mind.

            Vane-Tempest clumsily ducked Archie’s blows but enough landed that red marks swelled on his cheeks. Archie danced around him. One solid blow from Vane-Tempest would have picked the smaller man off his feet, then sent him crashing to the ground.

            Fair watched for a moment, then grabbed Archie’s upraised hand. Archie whirled around and caught Fair on the side of his head.

            Ned Tucker, running from the other end of the avenue, seized the Englishman before he could land a telling blow on Archie. Although thirty years older than Archie, Sir H. wanted to fight.

            Vane-Tempest shook Ned off more easily than Ned thought he could. The two antagonists pounded each other again.

            Herb Jones, dressed in his artillery sergeant major’s outfit, hurried out from the headquarters tent. Larry Johnson, Hayden McIntire, and a host of other Crozet men followed.

            Two men from Rappahannock County dashed over, canteens banging against their hips.

            The four of them finally separated Vane-Tempest, who was sputtering “bloody this” and “bloody that,” from Archie, who grimly said nothing.

            Sarah rushed to her husband’s aid. He needed ice held to his cheek. He grandly pushed her aside with one arm and advanced on Archie once more. Fair and Bobby Forester, from Rappahannock, lunged for him again.

            “Leave me alone!” the florid peer of the realm commanded.

            Herb Jones strode into the middle of everyone. “Gentlemen, save it for the Yankees.”

            This made everyone laugh except for Archie and his opponent. Even Vane-Tempest evinced a small smile.

            Tucker, Mrs. Murphy, and Pewter sat quietly at their campsite, watching the exchange.

            “They can’t abide each other.” Tucker scratched her ear.

            “H. Vane gave beaucoup money to Archie’s campaign last year.” Mrs. Murphy swatted at a fly. “You’d have thought they were two peas in a pod then.”

            “Guess Archie didn’t keep his promises.”

            “I’ll settle with you later.” Archie’s jaw jutted out, his facial muscles tense.

            “You’ll settle with me? That’s a laugh.” Vane-Tempest smoothed his hair with his right hand. “And you had no business invading my tent in the first place!”

            “Archie, come with me.” Herb put his hand under Archie’s elbow. “Fair, you keep an eye on H. Vane until we draw up in formation.”

            “Yes, sir.” Fair saluted.

            The gray line parted as Herb propelled the county commissioner toward the HQ tent.

            Men listened to Herb. He’d attended VMI and then fought in Korea, where he experienced a revelation about his calling on earth. When he returned home he entered the seminary, which provoked no end of amusement among his contemporaries. They’d known him as a hell-raiser at military school.

            “Now, Arch, what is the matter with you? You’re becoming…”

            “A liability,” Archie snapped, his knuckles bleeding.

            “I was going to say ”an embarrassment.“” Herb didn’t mince words. “You’re an elected official.”

            “We’re in Nelson County now, not Albemarle.” Archie hung his head, half mumbling.

            “You know this will get into the papers.”

            Archie glumly said nothing as Herb continued to guide him toward the large HQ tent.

            As the crowd dispersed, Sarah allowed herself a flash of temperament. “H., you’re a perfect ass.”

            “And you’re a perfect bitch,” he evenly replied.

            “That does it. You can play soldier by yourself. I always thought this was silly to begin with, grown men dressing up and waving swords about. At least your father was a real soldier.”

            “That’s below the belt, Sarah.” His mouth clamped shut like a vice. “But then that’s your favorite geography, isn’t it? You forget I served in the RAF. I just didn’t have the good fortune of being born in time for the big war.”

            Fair, face reddening because he didn’t want to hear this exchange, stepped away from the sparring couple. “You won’t run after Arch?”

            “No.” Vane-Tempest turned on his booted heel and disappeared into his tent.

            Mrs. Murphy and Pewter ran over and peeped under the tent flaps. Sarah, cooling down, walked inside after her husband.

            “Why do you let him get under your skin?”

            Vane-Tempest sagged heavily on a big trunk. “A man who’s been bought ought to stay bought.”

            “Oh, Henry,”—she called him by his Christian name—“you didn’t contribute that much.”

            “Five thousand dollars at the county-commissioner level seems rather large to me. We aren’t talking about the Senate, my dear, and I didn’t leave the money in a brown paper bag either. I’m not that crude.” He motioned for her to stop speaking as Ned Tucker entered the tent.

            “Think you can go out today?”

            “Why not?” Vane-Tempest answered the soft-spoken lawyer, Susan’s husband.

            “You took a couple of good pops to the face.”

            “He can’t hit that hard.”

            Not exactly true, since Archie had rocked him with the blow to the jaw, but his punches were light otherwise.