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control to rewind the tape, and was about to settle back for another viewing when his telephone rang.
    â€œHello?” Brock said, lifting the receiver and glaring at Alvin, who had finished the salami and was now giving speculative attention to Brock’s uneaten apple on the coffee table.
    â€œHello to you. Is this my best man?”
    â€œVern!” Brock said, grinning cheerfully. “Hey, it’s almost time, ol’ buddy. Did the condemned man eat a hearty meal?”
    â€œLook, Brock, I’m not getting executed, I’m getting married. I think there’s some difference, you know.”
    â€œThat,” Brock said, “depends entirely on your point of view. What’s up?”
    â€œJust checking,” Vernon said, sounding almost too happy to contain himself. “Making sure you’re going to remember to bring the ring, and all that.”
    â€œLook, Vern, I like you some, but if you bother me one more time about that damn ring, the wedding’s off. I won’t come.”
    Vernon chuckled. “Come on, have a heart. It’s a big day for me, Brock. I’ve waited forty years for this woman, you know, and I want everything to be just perfect.”
    â€œWell, you sure do sound a whole lot happier than any man has a right to be,” Brock said, feeling suddenly wistful. “An’ you don’t have to worry, Vern. I’ll bring the ring, unless Alvin eats it before I can get it to you.”
    â€œIf he eats it,” Vernon said in the dark tone ofone who was well acquainted with Alvin’s habits, “then Manny will just have to do a little emergency surgery this afternoon. You tell Alvin that, Brock.”
    Brock chuckled. “I’ll tell him,” he said, looking down at Alvin, who seemed to understand the conversation, and was eyeing his master with sudden deep apprehension.
    â€œSo, it’s three o’clock at the courthouse, okay? Second floor?”
    â€œYeah, Vern. As if you haven’t told me that about a thousand times already. I’ll be there.”
    â€œAre you dressed yet?”
    Brock laughed. “No, Vern, I’m not dressed yet. I just finished pulling a couple dozen porcupine quills outa one of my little Brangus bull calves, an’ now I’m having my lunch.”
    â€œBut…shouldn’t you be getting ready by now? It’s past one o’clock,” the other man said.
    â€œVern, settle down,” Brock told him gently. “Everything’s gonna be just fine. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be there before three, an’ I’ll have the ring, an’ you an’ Carolyn will get married, an’ then we’ll all go out to the Double C for a nice big party. Nothing will go wrong. Relax, okay?”
    â€œI guess you’re right,” Vernon said. “I just can’t believe it’s really happening, Brock. I’m so damned happy.”
    â€œWell, you deserve it, fella,” Brock said gently.“An’ I’m happy for both of you. I truly do wish you all the best, Vern. Now, go have a stiff drink or something, an’ try to pull yourself together, an’ I’ll see you in a little while.”
    They said their goodbyes and hung up. Brock sat staring at the telephone for a long time. At last he levered himself upright, dislodging Alvin, who had fallen asleep on his master’s stocking feet. He walked to his bedroom.
    Unlike the rest of the house, this room was tidy, with a bright woven rag rug on the hardwood floor, a clean faded spread covering the neatly made bed and a bank of worn colorful books in handmade shelves along one wall.
    Brock gazed wistfully at the books. Normally, he allowed himself a half hour or so of reading in the middle of the day, a treat that he looked forward to all morning.
    But then he recalled the panicky tone in Vernon Trent’s voice and shook his head.
    â€œPoor ol’ Vern,” he said to