Some books are an unexpected delight, and Castle Freeman’s new novel is one such – a short and simple tale of country people. Set in the backwoods of Vermont, All That I Have is narrated by Sheriff Lucian Wing, the last word in low-key lawmen. Wing instinctively understands that the approach needed to police the collection of towns in his jurisdiction is not a loud, shouty, throwing-his-weight-around style, but a folksy and very personal method that recognises his place as a part of the community as well as its policeman. It’s an approach he learned from the previous sheriff, his mentor, and it’s served him well so far, though it’s thoroughly tested by the end of the book.

The sheriff, a laconic, down-to-earth and fundamentally good man, has to contend with the apparent intrusion in to his domain of some shadowy Russians, who have bought a hilltop mansion near the town, and their supersmooth New York lawyers and agents. The Russians have crossed paths with the locals, and specifically with Sean ‘Superboy’ Duke, a handsome but empty-headed young stud. Superboy is apparently Lucian Wing’s pet project, and his ambitious deputy is convinced that he takes it too easy on him – but Sean’s dad was killed in the first Gulf War, and from then on he’s always had a special status in the community. Sean has got himself involved with the Russians way over his head, a fact that becomes apparent very early on, when Sheriff Wing finds a Russian who has been beaten, stripped naked and tied to a tree. Superboy is not noted for his subtlety.

All That I Have follows Wing’s quest to find Sean, taking in his mother and abusive stepfather and his manifold ladyfriends – but Sean always stays one step ahead, somehow. In the course of the investigation, Wing discovers some unpalatable truths about his marriage and has to decide whether to adopt the same softly-softly approach that serves him so well in other walks of life, and manages to solve the mystery of what’s been going on at the Russians’ mansion in a way that causes the least disruption to the community, as well as fighting off the ambitions of his deputy, who decides to run against him in the upcoming elections. Throughout it all, he remains calm, phlegmatic, seemingly unruffled by the very real dangers facing both himself and Superboy.

All That I Have is a book about appreciating the simpler things in life – and about how the homespun wisdom of a country sheriff can be more effective at keeping everyone safe than any amount of modern, gung-ho policing. It’s a book about a small community, and the quiet pleasure that a good man takes in maintaining that community. It’s a darkly funny book, and on occasion it exudes a quiet menace that makes you fear for its hero’s safety. More than anything else, it’s a counterargument to every book and film that ever portrayed the American backwoods in a negative light; an antidote to the likes of Donald Ray Pollock. A beautifully written, understated gem of a book.

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