The Farmer's Daughter by Jim Harrison

the truck in sideways with the trailer near the gate. She watched through the Leupold scope as he got out and leaned against the hood with a cup of steaming coffee. He limped badly when he opened the gate and she hoped he hurt. She squeezed off three rounds blasting out the truck’s windshield and the two near-side tires in case he tried to escape. Karl started screeching and struggled to get in the near-side truck door. She put a bullet near the handle and he crawled quickly back to get behind the trailer. Another bullet shattered a low wood slat of the trailer into splinters.
    She slowly reloaded wondering why she was teasing him rather than shooting him. Now the crosshairs of the scope were directly on his forehead and eyes peeking through the slats of the trailer. This was the money shot but she couldn’t do it, seeing again the antelope arching upward. Instead she shot twice a foot or two on each side of his head. He tried to run for it so she shot once in front of him and once on each side. Now he was screaming and sobbing and groveled in a shallow irrigation ditch. When she reloaded this time she finally realized she wasn’t going to shoot him and possibly end her own life in misery. For good measure she fired five rounds around him in the ditch noting afterward that he was now playing dead. She reloaded a last time and scrambled up the hill. Before she entered the trees she fired two more rounds into the truck to make sure he stayed in the ditch for a long while.
    She was soon back in her truck with the horse loaded and heading down the country road but about fifteen minutes later she was weeping and confused because she couldn’t find the road to Cody. She tried to turn at too sharp an angle and the horse trailer bound up against the back of the pickup and she couldn’t move it. Now she would have to get out and unhitch the trailer and start over. She leaned her head against the steering wheel sniffling and cursing and then Rover began to bark and roar. A county deputy had pulled up, gotten out of his squad car, and had stooped to look at where the trailer had bound up against the back bumper of the truck. The deputy was an older man with gray muttonchops and a big tummy. Sarah rolled down her window halfway struggling with Rover who was snarling.
    â€œYou’re a girl!” the deputy said.
    â€œYes, I am. I tried to turn too sharp. I drove too long in the night and pulled off on the side road when I got sleepy. Then I hid my rig when I heard a lot of shooting because it’s not hunting season, is it?”
    â€œNo. There’s this guy over east of here. We think he shot up his pickup for insurance. He’s three payments behind so it was going to get repoed anyway. He’s a longtime chiseler. He’s got enemies so maybe someone was shooting at him but who gives a shit.”
    He helped her detach the trailer and swing it around so she could hitch up properly and gave her directions to Cody. They shook hands.
    â€œYou’re a handsome girl. Be careful,” he said.
    She was damp with the sweat of fear as she drove off though she knew she was home free. She ate most of an enormous breakfast in Cody and had her coffee thermos filled. To celebrate she bought Rover biscuits and sausage to go, her favorite food.
    Chapter 13
    She had made it home just before dark, stoked the woodstove, and slept a dozen hours getting to school a little late. The principal asked after her sick aunt in Denver and Sarah for want of an answer said, “She died,” and walked off down the hall. She had had a thin slice of a nightmare about Karl but the leaden aftereffects weren’t there when she awoke. Lolly had left a piece of fine lasagna in her refrigerator which she’d shared with Rover for breakfast after which she’d sung the dog part of the Hank Williams song about Kaw-Liga, the wooden Indian. When she sang to Rover the dog squirmed with pleasure.
    She began a letter to