sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you very much Pac.
Story Grace, Mercy and Blessings
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Thank you so very much PAC. I hope the aunties have folks who can take them where they need to go. Being dependent on others at their age can be very disconcerting.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#182
Clora wandered through the corral and out into the horse pasture. Ivory was protective and switched sides to silently warn away any horses, that dared come close. Needing to talk to God in a private manner, Clora spoke softly as she prayed aloud.
There was so much she needed to speak to God about, and although Clora prayed daily, this was a much needed 'away from all confusion' time. Clora walked to the end of the pasture, lost in her private time with God.
When she came to the back property fence, she stopped and leaned her arms against the post holding the gate. She could feel that Mark was near, her protection. It wasn't often that Clora needed to leave the constant whirlwind of her daily life; but today she needed to talk with God without interuption.
Clora leaned against the post, almost having to put her arms around it, to steady herself. Head bowed, she prayed for clairifacation of the jumbled messages she was recieving. There was extreme danger for Mark, Tess and Wyatt in their trek to the conference; but there was also a bloody confrontation waiting to happen to the clan that remained at home.
With her mind screaming with the danger she could feel, Clora didn't realize she was shaking so badly that clinging to the post was the only reason she wasn't in a heap on the ground.
Mark was watching and made the decision to interupt Clora's solitary communion with God. Speaking low and with force, Mark walked toward Clora, alerting her to his nearness. It was easy to tell she wasn't hearing him speak, so lost in her prayers.
Mark advanced slowly, knowing that if he startled Clora, she might whirl around and shoot him, as lost in her mind as she was. Ivory sat watching him with unblinking eyes, and dog and man slowly came to a conclusion. Ivory nosed Clora's hand, the touch of the dog finally registering with Clora.
"Clora," Mark's deep voice floated into the corner of Clora's consciousness. "Clora, I'm on your right side and walking to you. I don't want you to fall, you look very disoriented and weak."
Clora nodded slightly, unable to find her voice. Mark reached her, sliding his arm around her waist, feeling his wife slump against him in relief. Ivory was watching him carefully, understanding that her mistress was confused and feeling unsettled.
"Have you 'felt' something?" Mark questioned, as a way to keep Clora grounded to his presence.
Clora nodded again slightly. Drawing a deep breath, she looked at Mark and said weakly but with conviction, "They plan to kill the three of you at the convention. There will also be a raid on the town here, while you are gone. Mark, many of us will die."
There, she had gotten the words out, but her shaking didn't diminish. "Mark, if you go, you and Tess will die. Toby, Milo and myself will die here."
Mark put his arms securely around Clora and touched his cheek to hers. Wet with her tears, Clora rubbed her face against his. "I don't want you to die, I don't know why this is happening as it is, but Mark don't go."
"If you say so, I won't go," he promised. "You ask very little of me, but this, this I can do to honor your concern; and I will gladly do so. Help me put together a plan of action, to keep us all safe." he went into planning mode.
"Wyatt won't be happy with our decision, but he needs to make a decision about his own life. I presume that Tess will be having the same conclusions?" Mark rubbed his chin in consernation.
"Yes, and I'm not sure she will be able to keep Wyatt from going. He isn't aware of our 'gifts' and there's more than a large possibility that he won't believe. There have been twinges in his memory that have questioned what he has seen and heard, but not enough to blindly believe without good, doccumentable cause."
"We may have to do an exibition for him to provide concrete proof. Tell me, how interested is Tess? If he turns out to be a blooming idiot and won't listen to us and gets killed, what will that do to her?" The father in Mark was in full, protective mode.
"I think,"...Clora faltered, "I think we need to go back and have a straight talk with Wyatt and Tess. "This needs to be sorted out now, before Tess is involved any deeper that she already is. I just can't predict how reasonable he will be, some people instantly reject what they don't understand."
"If he hurts her," Mark threatened with a deep growl, "he won't live to regret it." Mark the Dad was in full blown protection mode.
"Easy Mark, it's God's will that we need to honor with obedience. Neither Tess or Wyatt will welcome your interfernce, and they are still very unsure of one another. Well, Tess is probably more sure than he is; but he might be frightened of her ability and just leave. In fact I feel that he probably will go away until his head gets straightened out. I'm not saying that it won't hurt her, but she will understand, eventually." Clora was gripping Mark's arm with a strength he didn't know she had.
"Tell me Clora, how soon will the strike/attack happen here?"
"Within the week that you were supposed to leave."
"I was hoping we might have time to build some sort of defense, like the wall that we had at Walter's farm." The two of them started walking slowly back toward the house.
"No time," Clora said softly, "Donny and his family at the South edge, and Tess to the North are the most vunerable."
Their talk was interupted by Ivory's deep growl. She was staring back behind them, toward the forest. Hackles up, she continued to growl and show her teeth.
"She's not a hysterical dog, there's something dangerous out there," Clora whispered.
"Keep walking," Mark instructed, "I'm covering behind us. Go to the barn, I'm going to call the horses in, so find a safe place."
Clora wandered through the corral and out into the horse pasture. Ivory was protective and switched sides to silently warn away any horses, that dared come close. Needing to talk to God in a private manner, Clora spoke softly as she prayed aloud.
There was so much she needed to speak to God about, and although Clora prayed daily, this was a much needed 'away from all confusion' time. Clora walked to the end of the pasture, lost in her private time with God.
When she came to the back property fence, she stopped and leaned her arms against the post holding the gate. She could feel that Mark was near, her protection. It wasn't often that Clora needed to leave the constant whirlwind of her daily life; but today she needed to talk with God without interuption.
Clora leaned against the post, almost having to put her arms around it, to steady herself. Head bowed, she prayed for clairifacation of the jumbled messages she was recieving. There was extreme danger for Mark, Tess and Wyatt in their trek to the conference; but there was also a bloody confrontation waiting to happen to the clan that remained at home.
With her mind screaming with the danger she could feel, Clora didn't realize she was shaking so badly that clinging to the post was the only reason she wasn't in a heap on the ground.
Mark was watching and made the decision to interupt Clora's solitary communion with God. Speaking low and with force, Mark walked toward Clora, alerting her to his nearness. It was easy to tell she wasn't hearing him speak, so lost in her prayers.
Mark advanced slowly, knowing that if he startled Clora, she might whirl around and shoot him, as lost in her mind as she was. Ivory sat watching him with unblinking eyes, and dog and man slowly came to a conclusion. Ivory nosed Clora's hand, the touch of the dog finally registering with Clora.
"Clora," Mark's deep voice floated into the corner of Clora's consciousness. "Clora, I'm on your right side and walking to you. I don't want you to fall, you look very disoriented and weak."
Clora nodded slightly, unable to find her voice. Mark reached her, sliding his arm around her waist, feeling his wife slump against him in relief. Ivory was watching him carefully, understanding that her mistress was confused and feeling unsettled.
"Have you 'felt' something?" Mark questioned, as a way to keep Clora grounded to his presence.
Clora nodded again slightly. Drawing a deep breath, she looked at Mark and said weakly but with conviction, "They plan to kill the three of you at the convention. There will also be a raid on the town here, while you are gone. Mark, many of us will die."
There, she had gotten the words out, but her shaking didn't diminish. "Mark, if you go, you and Tess will die. Toby, Milo and myself will die here."
Mark put his arms securely around Clora and touched his cheek to hers. Wet with her tears, Clora rubbed her face against his. "I don't want you to die, I don't know why this is happening as it is, but Mark don't go."
"If you say so, I won't go," he promised. "You ask very little of me, but this, this I can do to honor your concern; and I will gladly do so. Help me put together a plan of action, to keep us all safe." he went into planning mode.
"Wyatt won't be happy with our decision, but he needs to make a decision about his own life. I presume that Tess will be having the same conclusions?" Mark rubbed his chin in consernation.
"Yes, and I'm not sure she will be able to keep Wyatt from going. He isn't aware of our 'gifts' and there's more than a large possibility that he won't believe. There have been twinges in his memory that have questioned what he has seen and heard, but not enough to blindly believe without good, doccumentable cause."
"We may have to do an exibition for him to provide concrete proof. Tell me, how interested is Tess? If he turns out to be a blooming idiot and won't listen to us and gets killed, what will that do to her?" The father in Mark was in full, protective mode.
"I think,"...Clora faltered, "I think we need to go back and have a straight talk with Wyatt and Tess. "This needs to be sorted out now, before Tess is involved any deeper that she already is. I just can't predict how reasonable he will be, some people instantly reject what they don't understand."
"If he hurts her," Mark threatened with a deep growl, "he won't live to regret it." Mark the Dad was in full blown protection mode.
"Easy Mark, it's God's will that we need to honor with obedience. Neither Tess or Wyatt will welcome your interfernce, and they are still very unsure of one another. Well, Tess is probably more sure than he is; but he might be frightened of her ability and just leave. In fact I feel that he probably will go away until his head gets straightened out. I'm not saying that it won't hurt her, but she will understand, eventually." Clora was gripping Mark's arm with a strength he didn't know she had.
"Tell me Clora, how soon will the strike/attack happen here?"
"Within the week that you were supposed to leave."
"I was hoping we might have time to build some sort of defense, like the wall that we had at Walter's farm." The two of them started walking slowly back toward the house.
"No time," Clora said softly, "Donny and his family at the South edge, and Tess to the North are the most vunerable."
Their talk was interupted by Ivory's deep growl. She was staring back behind them, toward the forest. Hackles up, she continued to growl and show her teeth.
"She's not a hysterical dog, there's something dangerous out there," Clora whispered.
"Keep walking," Mark instructed, "I'm covering behind us. Go to the barn, I'm going to call the horses in, so find a safe place."
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Good, I hope done go. Thank you Pac.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Another super chapter with another twist and twingle happening!
Thanks, Pac! I'll add Clora, Mark and all the family and community to my prayers. They will need divine protection and guidance!!
Oooopppssss.......forgot that "it's only a movie...it's only a movie." LOL!! But it's SO REAL!!
Thanks, Pac! I'll add Clora, Mark and all the family and community to my prayers. They will need divine protection and guidance!!
Oooopppssss.......forgot that "it's only a movie...it's only a movie." LOL!! But it's SO REAL!!
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
A brisk post-dinner walk, a hot shower followed by a couple of ounces of your preferred distillate, lights out & some zzzz should follow on, apace. I have occasionally had to resort to a 2nd portion of the distillate but only rarely (usually in a hotel, rarely if ever at home)
Oh yeah....turn off the news!!
steamroller
Contributing Member
Great chapter, thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#183
Clora opened the pasture gate into the barn, and gave a shrill whistle. Horses heads whipped up and there were several welcoming whinny's, as mares and colts wanted to be the first into the barn to be appreciated by Clora.
The thundering herd slowed down to a sedate walk, entering the barn like ladies, going to their assigned stall in a very controlled manner. Mama's disciplined their colts, teaching them barn manners under Clora's watchful eye.
Mark swung the gate shut and then the barn doors . "Yeah, there's something real hinky going on out there, the air feels funny and there are no noises in the woods." He helped Clora shut up the front doors and they walked to the house.
Mark stopped on the porch and rang the bell, alerting the clan that there was some sort of problem. He waved his sidearm as a clue that there was danger, and everyone responded but Donny.
Mark was fretting that the newest parent was not paying attention and slipped several extra magazines in his pocket. "I don't know what's the matter with that boy, he knows the sounds and the drill; I've half a notion to tear a strip off his hide. I'm going down there Clora, please lock up behind me and probably should keep watch."
Clora nodded, smiling, Mark had lost none of his fire and she wasn't sure Donny didn't deserve a wakeup call. Mark was stomping down the lane toward town to confer with the other men, always keeping an eye on Donny's place.
Donny had his hands full. He and Sally were trying to shepherd the group of children back toward the house. They had been on an adventure looking for new fiddleheads as a teaching moment in wildcrafting.
They had a basket full of the curled neck fern fronds, when Donny noticed that the woods had turned from a playful, inviting place; to an ominous, dark and chilling, with a wind that blew with a howling sound.
"Kids, listen to me immediately," Donny hissed. "I want you to grip arms together, with Sally behind you. Start moving slowly toward the house, don't look back, I don't want you to stumble and fall. That will be dangerous for us all. Cotton, you take the 22 and walk carefully forward, in the front. What ever you do, do not break and run." Donny's voice was more stern and mad sounding, than he had ever talked to the children before, so they automatically obeyed. Sally shot him a curious glance, but did as he requested.
They were almost to the edge of the woods when Donny felt, more than saw, a black shadow hurtling toward him from a large oak. 'RUN," He screamed at the kids and they took like the hounds of hell were after them.
The all black cougar hit him full on, snarling and swiping at the hated human with huge paws and long extended claws.
Bright red bloody streaks appeared across Donny's shirt, and he gasped from the force of the hit. The cougar stood mere feet away , inching closer and closer. Donny was staring with frozen fascination at the open mouth full of sharp tearing teeth, it took several seconds for him to react, by pointing the rifle at the quivering animal.
The 'click' sounded loud in the frozen moment. Donny had forgotten to move the safety off, and suddenly he couldn't remember what to do to make his rifle fire. It was an eye to eye aggressive standoff between man and beast, something Mark had drilled into them that they should never do.
In his mind, Donny could hear Mark say over and over, avoid direct eye contact, to an animal, especially a predator, that is direct aggression, and they will respond by further violence. The yellow eyes of the cougar never left it's intended target, the black rim around the painters mouth vibrating with the thought of a nice human meal.
Donny's thumb reached for the safety automatically, without his realization, and the muscle memory of his forefinger squeezed the trigger. The shot was loud in the hushed silence of the forest.
Surprised at the noise level, Donny realized that the muzzle of his rifle was shaking so violently there was no way he had shot any where near the lithe and sleek rippling muscles of the cougar that was melting away into the underbrush.
Standing stupidly with his mouth open, Donny started to shake with intensity. Almost instantly, his knees gave out and he sank to the ground. Once again in his mind, he could hear Mark's loud and instant repetition, demanding that he chamber another round immediately. Feeling like he was in a slow motion, sleepwalking trance; Donny worked the bolt and the new round slid smoothly into place. Closing the bolt, Donny wondered why there was so much noise in the woods. He didn't remember there being so many birds before.
As he went to stand up, he first felt the hurt. Once again staring stupidly at the front of his shirt, he noticed the claw marks that had shredded his shirt and left him with ribbons of flesh hanging out with strips of cloth. It made him sick to his stomach to see the amount of blood.
Clora opened the pasture gate into the barn, and gave a shrill whistle. Horses heads whipped up and there were several welcoming whinny's, as mares and colts wanted to be the first into the barn to be appreciated by Clora.
The thundering herd slowed down to a sedate walk, entering the barn like ladies, going to their assigned stall in a very controlled manner. Mama's disciplined their colts, teaching them barn manners under Clora's watchful eye.
Mark swung the gate shut and then the barn doors . "Yeah, there's something real hinky going on out there, the air feels funny and there are no noises in the woods." He helped Clora shut up the front doors and they walked to the house.
Mark stopped on the porch and rang the bell, alerting the clan that there was some sort of problem. He waved his sidearm as a clue that there was danger, and everyone responded but Donny.
Mark was fretting that the newest parent was not paying attention and slipped several extra magazines in his pocket. "I don't know what's the matter with that boy, he knows the sounds and the drill; I've half a notion to tear a strip off his hide. I'm going down there Clora, please lock up behind me and probably should keep watch."
Clora nodded, smiling, Mark had lost none of his fire and she wasn't sure Donny didn't deserve a wakeup call. Mark was stomping down the lane toward town to confer with the other men, always keeping an eye on Donny's place.
Donny had his hands full. He and Sally were trying to shepherd the group of children back toward the house. They had been on an adventure looking for new fiddleheads as a teaching moment in wildcrafting.
They had a basket full of the curled neck fern fronds, when Donny noticed that the woods had turned from a playful, inviting place; to an ominous, dark and chilling, with a wind that blew with a howling sound.
"Kids, listen to me immediately," Donny hissed. "I want you to grip arms together, with Sally behind you. Start moving slowly toward the house, don't look back, I don't want you to stumble and fall. That will be dangerous for us all. Cotton, you take the 22 and walk carefully forward, in the front. What ever you do, do not break and run." Donny's voice was more stern and mad sounding, than he had ever talked to the children before, so they automatically obeyed. Sally shot him a curious glance, but did as he requested.
They were almost to the edge of the woods when Donny felt, more than saw, a black shadow hurtling toward him from a large oak. 'RUN," He screamed at the kids and they took like the hounds of hell were after them.
The all black cougar hit him full on, snarling and swiping at the hated human with huge paws and long extended claws.
Bright red bloody streaks appeared across Donny's shirt, and he gasped from the force of the hit. The cougar stood mere feet away , inching closer and closer. Donny was staring with frozen fascination at the open mouth full of sharp tearing teeth, it took several seconds for him to react, by pointing the rifle at the quivering animal.
The 'click' sounded loud in the frozen moment. Donny had forgotten to move the safety off, and suddenly he couldn't remember what to do to make his rifle fire. It was an eye to eye aggressive standoff between man and beast, something Mark had drilled into them that they should never do.
In his mind, Donny could hear Mark say over and over, avoid direct eye contact, to an animal, especially a predator, that is direct aggression, and they will respond by further violence. The yellow eyes of the cougar never left it's intended target, the black rim around the painters mouth vibrating with the thought of a nice human meal.
Donny's thumb reached for the safety automatically, without his realization, and the muscle memory of his forefinger squeezed the trigger. The shot was loud in the hushed silence of the forest.
Surprised at the noise level, Donny realized that the muzzle of his rifle was shaking so violently there was no way he had shot any where near the lithe and sleek rippling muscles of the cougar that was melting away into the underbrush.
Standing stupidly with his mouth open, Donny started to shake with intensity. Almost instantly, his knees gave out and he sank to the ground. Once again in his mind, he could hear Mark's loud and instant repetition, demanding that he chamber another round immediately. Feeling like he was in a slow motion, sleepwalking trance; Donny worked the bolt and the new round slid smoothly into place. Closing the bolt, Donny wondered why there was so much noise in the woods. He didn't remember there being so many birds before.
As he went to stand up, he first felt the hurt. Once again staring stupidly at the front of his shirt, he noticed the claw marks that had shredded his shirt and left him with ribbons of flesh hanging out with strips of cloth. It made him sick to his stomach to see the amount of blood.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Cliff, cliff, oh nooooooooooooo. lol
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#184
Clora barely made it inside the kitchen door, before Tess came clattering down the stairs and threw several shirts on the table.
"Ma," her voice was heavy with meaning.
"You go, you can run faster than I," Clora held the door open and Tess went running out.
"Now what's happening," Wyatt grumped, as he watched Tess's speedy departure.
"I'll explain in just a minute," Clora stalled and used the triplets entrance into the kitchen, as an excuse to delay.
"Boy's, your Mom had to run down to the clinic for me. How about a couple of cookies and water. Do you know if nanny came here with you guys?"
Purposely, Clora drug out the innocent sounding questioning, while Wyatt gave up and reached for a cookie.
Clora barely made it inside the kitchen door, before Tess came clattering down the stairs and threw several shirts on the table.
"Ma," her voice was heavy with meaning.
"You go, you can run faster than I," Clora held the door open and Tess went running out.
"Now what's happening," Wyatt grumped, as he watched Tess's speedy departure.
"I'll explain in just a minute," Clora stalled and used the triplets entrance into the kitchen, as an excuse to delay.
"Boy's, your Mom had to run down to the clinic for me. How about a couple of cookies and water. Do you know if nanny came here with you guys?"
Purposely, Clora drug out the innocent sounding questioning, while Wyatt gave up and reached for a cookie.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#185
Jerry rounded up a crew that dug the graves for Carole and Al. The service was solemn and not over long, as the good Reverend had a difficult time putting together nice words to say about the couple.
Rev. Compton knew exactly where the 'shine' that waylaid a good many of his parishioners had come from. He put a strong guilt trip on Jerry, hoping to cause the demise of the still and it's strong drink.
Jerry was biting his lip to keep from smiling at the not so subtle pointed jabs. Abby was holding herself together in her sorrow, and frankly, most of the minister's words went right over her head, unheard.
The funeral over, the proper words said, services rendered paid for, and Jerry escorted Abby back to the Inn. Not saying much, he let Abby try to process all that had happened. He made tea for her and found a plate of cookies, that made him smile. He would bet several dollars that she had Clora's recipe, and a taste test confirmed his deduction. Two cookies didn't make it to the table, and he smiled to himself, and finished chewing.
Abby sat at the table, listlessly stirring her tea. "Thank you," she finally said.
"Happy to help all I can." Jerry was equally as low key. "Is there anything else that needs to be done right away?"
"Laundry tomorrow, and I need to check the books to see when the next group of travelers are due. I honestly don't know if I have the heart for this; I'm tired and not thinking straight."
How about I stand guard tonight," Jerry offered. "From what Mark said, they knew about the three red headed attackers but, the black haired boy was a surprise. Since we don't know if there are others, I think it's a good idea to stand guard. Hopefully you can sleep better, I'll try to be as quiet as possible. Do we have anything to cover the broken windows with, it's still gonna be cold outside tonight."
"Uh yeah, probably in the basement or the shed out back. I'll look out there, if you want to look in the basement.
"How about we reverse that," Jerry said smoothly, "I think you are still in shock, and maybe not totally situtation oriented at the moment."
"Ok, you're probably right," Abby acquiesced without a shot. "I certainly don't feel like I have it together."
Jerry rounded up a crew that dug the graves for Carole and Al. The service was solemn and not over long, as the good Reverend had a difficult time putting together nice words to say about the couple.
Rev. Compton knew exactly where the 'shine' that waylaid a good many of his parishioners had come from. He put a strong guilt trip on Jerry, hoping to cause the demise of the still and it's strong drink.
Jerry was biting his lip to keep from smiling at the not so subtle pointed jabs. Abby was holding herself together in her sorrow, and frankly, most of the minister's words went right over her head, unheard.
The funeral over, the proper words said, services rendered paid for, and Jerry escorted Abby back to the Inn. Not saying much, he let Abby try to process all that had happened. He made tea for her and found a plate of cookies, that made him smile. He would bet several dollars that she had Clora's recipe, and a taste test confirmed his deduction. Two cookies didn't make it to the table, and he smiled to himself, and finished chewing.
Abby sat at the table, listlessly stirring her tea. "Thank you," she finally said.
"Happy to help all I can." Jerry was equally as low key. "Is there anything else that needs to be done right away?"
"Laundry tomorrow, and I need to check the books to see when the next group of travelers are due. I honestly don't know if I have the heart for this; I'm tired and not thinking straight."
How about I stand guard tonight," Jerry offered. "From what Mark said, they knew about the three red headed attackers but, the black haired boy was a surprise. Since we don't know if there are others, I think it's a good idea to stand guard. Hopefully you can sleep better, I'll try to be as quiet as possible. Do we have anything to cover the broken windows with, it's still gonna be cold outside tonight."
"Uh yeah, probably in the basement or the shed out back. I'll look out there, if you want to look in the basement.
"How about we reverse that," Jerry said smoothly, "I think you are still in shock, and maybe not totally situtation oriented at the moment."
"Ok, you're probably right," Abby acquiesced without a shot. "I certainly don't feel like I have it together."
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very big thank you Pac.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Well Jerry old buddy, you screwed the pooch here once already; maybe go slow & gentle this time. There might not be another opportunity.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#186
Tess burst into the clinic with a shout for her father. "Dad, you and Milo come with your guns. Donny has been hurt." Gathering speed, she went on thru and out the back door in a whirlwind of motion. Father and son stopped talking and grabbed rifles and left the same way as Tess.
Running down the long lane to Donny's place, Tess got there at the same time as the group of scared children, coming out of the woods.. The sight of the wild woman with her reddish hair flying around her head and rifle in hand, stopped the clutch of kids in fright. Cotton braved up and stood with the old 22 pointed at Tess, yelling at her to stop or he would shoot.
"I've come to help Donny," Tess yelled back and veered to the left to go around the bunch of frightened kids, continuing her run toward the woods.
Milo, happened to look up from his run, to see a petrified Cotton raise the 22 and take aim at Tess.
Reacting instinctively, he shouldered his rifle and skidded to a stop. In three seconds, he shot the old gun from Cotton's hands, searing a bullet mark across the top of the young man's stomach.
Cotton screamed and threw up the rifle, collapsing to the ground writhing in pain amid the screaming confusion of panicked children.
Reacting just as instinctively as Milo, Sally grabbed the 22 and yelled for her brothers and sisters to get behind her. Sally couldn't yell loud enough to be heard above all the children's screams and then Mark's bellowing as he stopped to trot up to the jostling huddle of children.
Milo moved slightly, to keep the old rifle and the young woman in a clear vision path, as Mark tried to bring order to the melee. Cotton's screams finally had the younger children clapping their hands over their ears to shut out some of the pain they could hear, and as they shut off one set of senses, their mouth had to come closed, as they stood dumbly looking at the two large men.
"Put that rifle down," Mark harshly ordered, "or you will be shot the same as your brother."
Sally defiantly lowered the muzzle, but didn't drop the gun as ordered.
"I'm not warning you again," Mark snapped in loud anger, "throw it over here," and he indicated to the right of the group. "How far in the woods is Donny?" he thundered.
Sally gave the 22 a half hearted toss, and it cartwheeled muzzle down into the dirt and awkwardly stood on end for several seconds and then slowly leaned to the right and fell over.
"Once again, how far into the woods is Donny?" Mark wasn't feeling nice, and didn't care if he scared them all. Donny was in trouble and now Tess was involved.
"We ran a long way out," Sally squeaked in such a quiet voice, that Mark wasn't hearing her over his roaring.
Faintly, in the distance, Milo could hear the danger bell ringing and he couldn't tell if it was this danger or something new.
"Kids get to the house," Milo ordered, brandishing his rifle in the direction of the three story building. "I'm going to take the boy to the clinic."
That announcement brought on a whole new spate of screaming and yelling. Sally screaming that they wouldn't let Cotton go with Milo unless they all went. In the confusion, Sally darted into the fray and picked up the 22, holding it tightly against her leg, the gun hidden in the folds of her skirt.
Milo bent over to pick up Cotton and had to clamp the boy's hands together to keep from being hit. Hoisting Cotton into his arms, he started at a trot for the clinic, passing Toby and Gary who were rushing out toward Mark.
The kids broke up immediately and started running after Milo, determined they would know where their brother was being taken. The smaller kids stopping after a short run, overcome by fatigue and inability to run any further.
Sally had to make a decision, she let the 22 fall to the ground and collected the smallest three to carry. Burdened by the extra weight, she was unable to run, but they eventually made it to the clinic door in a wild, frenzied state.
Reva took one look at the incoming mob that intended to surround and protect their brother, as they were pushing and almost overpowering Tricia as she bent over the crying youth. "Stop right there," she ordered in a loud mother type voice.
"Dr. Bruce, your vacation is over, get in there and help Doc Trish." Reva snapped as she looked at Don and ordered him out of the way, so the scared children might gather at the foot of the clinic bed and watch.
"Milo, get that girl a chair and then get over and hold that boy's legs. He's thrashing around so, he's gonna hurt someone."
Tess burst into the clinic with a shout for her father. "Dad, you and Milo come with your guns. Donny has been hurt." Gathering speed, she went on thru and out the back door in a whirlwind of motion. Father and son stopped talking and grabbed rifles and left the same way as Tess.
Running down the long lane to Donny's place, Tess got there at the same time as the group of scared children, coming out of the woods.. The sight of the wild woman with her reddish hair flying around her head and rifle in hand, stopped the clutch of kids in fright. Cotton braved up and stood with the old 22 pointed at Tess, yelling at her to stop or he would shoot.
"I've come to help Donny," Tess yelled back and veered to the left to go around the bunch of frightened kids, continuing her run toward the woods.
Milo, happened to look up from his run, to see a petrified Cotton raise the 22 and take aim at Tess.
Reacting instinctively, he shouldered his rifle and skidded to a stop. In three seconds, he shot the old gun from Cotton's hands, searing a bullet mark across the top of the young man's stomach.
Cotton screamed and threw up the rifle, collapsing to the ground writhing in pain amid the screaming confusion of panicked children.
Reacting just as instinctively as Milo, Sally grabbed the 22 and yelled for her brothers and sisters to get behind her. Sally couldn't yell loud enough to be heard above all the children's screams and then Mark's bellowing as he stopped to trot up to the jostling huddle of children.
Milo moved slightly, to keep the old rifle and the young woman in a clear vision path, as Mark tried to bring order to the melee. Cotton's screams finally had the younger children clapping their hands over their ears to shut out some of the pain they could hear, and as they shut off one set of senses, their mouth had to come closed, as they stood dumbly looking at the two large men.
"Put that rifle down," Mark harshly ordered, "or you will be shot the same as your brother."
Sally defiantly lowered the muzzle, but didn't drop the gun as ordered.
"I'm not warning you again," Mark snapped in loud anger, "throw it over here," and he indicated to the right of the group. "How far in the woods is Donny?" he thundered.
Sally gave the 22 a half hearted toss, and it cartwheeled muzzle down into the dirt and awkwardly stood on end for several seconds and then slowly leaned to the right and fell over.
"Once again, how far into the woods is Donny?" Mark wasn't feeling nice, and didn't care if he scared them all. Donny was in trouble and now Tess was involved.
"We ran a long way out," Sally squeaked in such a quiet voice, that Mark wasn't hearing her over his roaring.
Faintly, in the distance, Milo could hear the danger bell ringing and he couldn't tell if it was this danger or something new.
"Kids get to the house," Milo ordered, brandishing his rifle in the direction of the three story building. "I'm going to take the boy to the clinic."
That announcement brought on a whole new spate of screaming and yelling. Sally screaming that they wouldn't let Cotton go with Milo unless they all went. In the confusion, Sally darted into the fray and picked up the 22, holding it tightly against her leg, the gun hidden in the folds of her skirt.
Milo bent over to pick up Cotton and had to clamp the boy's hands together to keep from being hit. Hoisting Cotton into his arms, he started at a trot for the clinic, passing Toby and Gary who were rushing out toward Mark.
The kids broke up immediately and started running after Milo, determined they would know where their brother was being taken. The smaller kids stopping after a short run, overcome by fatigue and inability to run any further.
Sally had to make a decision, she let the 22 fall to the ground and collected the smallest three to carry. Burdened by the extra weight, she was unable to run, but they eventually made it to the clinic door in a wild, frenzied state.
Reva took one look at the incoming mob that intended to surround and protect their brother, as they were pushing and almost overpowering Tricia as she bent over the crying youth. "Stop right there," she ordered in a loud mother type voice.
"Dr. Bruce, your vacation is over, get in there and help Doc Trish." Reva snapped as she looked at Don and ordered him out of the way, so the scared children might gather at the foot of the clinic bed and watch.
"Milo, get that girl a chair and then get over and hold that boy's legs. He's thrashing around so, he's gonna hurt someone."
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Wow, talk about still slow on the uptake, those kids have a lot to learn. Thanks Pac.
Not to mention having been given minimal training by their parents. Their loyalty to each other is very commendable.
Thank you for another great chapter, Pac!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#187
Tess went flying into the woods, shouting Donny's name. Ever so often she stopped to listen. Nothing.
Hollering, stopped the wood's noise, but no answering shout. The fresh, young green grass and duff of the forest had no tracks, so Tess slowed and kept calling, hoping to rouse Donny.
Donny felt himself go faint and soft in the muscles. Any where he clutched at his stomach, he hurt like the blue blazes and he couldn't see very well, darkness seemed to be closing in. He shivered when the forest went silent, wondering if the cat was circling around.
Faintly, he heard his name called and he didn't have the ability to answer. The last thing he remembered, was pulling the trigger on his rifle.
The resounding crack, startled the birds into flying and the silence shattered. It was enough to tell Tess the approximate location of the young man.
Tess had to clamp her teeth together to keep from throwing up when she found Donny. His stomach, from what she could see, looked as bad as Toby's belly, from the shotgun wound.
Stopping to get her breath, Tess whistled, hoping that Milo and Toby had followed her deep into the woods. It took several tries before she heard a return sound. It seemed to take forever for the two men to appear, and Toby gave a low whistle as he rubbed his own belly.
"Good Lord, I can feel that hurt, is he dead?" Toby asked as he bent over to straighten out Donny's arms, to have a look at the extent of the damage.
"Not yet, but how are we going to get him to the clinic.?" Tess questioned.
"With good old Linderman ingenuity," Milo was shrugging off his coat. "I need your coats," he barked. "Tob, help me find two long, sturdy poles."
Threading the coat arms on the poles, the three jackets became a web to carry the brunt of Donny's weight. "Here, you carry our rifles;" Toby shoved his long gun at Tess, and she reached for Milo's as he thrust it in her direction. Crossing the slings over her shoulders, Tess felt the weight, but said nothing.
The two men picked up the litter and Toby in the lead said," on the count of three, begin." As they got accustomed to the weight and awkwardness of the carry, Toby increased the pace until they were trotting a good measure. Tess trotted silently behind them, glancing around at the tree canopy for signs of the obvious big cat that had attacked Donny.
Reaching the clinic, Tess burst ahead and opened the door, "incoming wounded," she shouted, "clear the area. get those kids out of here, we need room."
"Children, come over here," Reva demanded, having to shove Don out of her way. "Come into the kitchen right NOW!" Reva had to give Don another shove toward the kitchen table, when he stupidly swung around with a 'duh' expression on his face.
"Move it," Reva ordered, "go sit down at the head of the table so your arm doesn't get jostled."
Surprised at her demanding tone, Don did what he was told, as the space quickly filled up with all the brothers and sisters. Sally insisted in standing in the doorway to keep an eye on Cotton, and now Donny. Crying silent tears from fright and worry, she rocked back and forth with her arms wrapped around herself, needing to do something to work out the terrible anguish she was feeling.
Trish looked up from her work on Cotton, and made a round O with her mouth when she saw Donny. Nodding at Bruce to take over working on the young boy, she turned to the other exam table to assess Donny's wounds.
"Go get Dory," Reva ordered Gary, who was standing in the other doorway. "She can scrub and help."
Gary sort of pulled back at her demand, and the nodded. He was interested in watching the Doc's work, hoping to find the reason that Don was taking so long to heal. He still felt, there was some problem that was being overlooked.
"Well, in this year or the next?" Reva snapped, when Gary didn't instantly start to move.
Tess went flying into the woods, shouting Donny's name. Ever so often she stopped to listen. Nothing.
Hollering, stopped the wood's noise, but no answering shout. The fresh, young green grass and duff of the forest had no tracks, so Tess slowed and kept calling, hoping to rouse Donny.
Donny felt himself go faint and soft in the muscles. Any where he clutched at his stomach, he hurt like the blue blazes and he couldn't see very well, darkness seemed to be closing in. He shivered when the forest went silent, wondering if the cat was circling around.
Faintly, he heard his name called and he didn't have the ability to answer. The last thing he remembered, was pulling the trigger on his rifle.
The resounding crack, startled the birds into flying and the silence shattered. It was enough to tell Tess the approximate location of the young man.
Tess had to clamp her teeth together to keep from throwing up when she found Donny. His stomach, from what she could see, looked as bad as Toby's belly, from the shotgun wound.
Stopping to get her breath, Tess whistled, hoping that Milo and Toby had followed her deep into the woods. It took several tries before she heard a return sound. It seemed to take forever for the two men to appear, and Toby gave a low whistle as he rubbed his own belly.
"Good Lord, I can feel that hurt, is he dead?" Toby asked as he bent over to straighten out Donny's arms, to have a look at the extent of the damage.
"Not yet, but how are we going to get him to the clinic.?" Tess questioned.
"With good old Linderman ingenuity," Milo was shrugging off his coat. "I need your coats," he barked. "Tob, help me find two long, sturdy poles."
Threading the coat arms on the poles, the three jackets became a web to carry the brunt of Donny's weight. "Here, you carry our rifles;" Toby shoved his long gun at Tess, and she reached for Milo's as he thrust it in her direction. Crossing the slings over her shoulders, Tess felt the weight, but said nothing.
The two men picked up the litter and Toby in the lead said," on the count of three, begin." As they got accustomed to the weight and awkwardness of the carry, Toby increased the pace until they were trotting a good measure. Tess trotted silently behind them, glancing around at the tree canopy for signs of the obvious big cat that had attacked Donny.
Reaching the clinic, Tess burst ahead and opened the door, "incoming wounded," she shouted, "clear the area. get those kids out of here, we need room."
"Children, come over here," Reva demanded, having to shove Don out of her way. "Come into the kitchen right NOW!" Reva had to give Don another shove toward the kitchen table, when he stupidly swung around with a 'duh' expression on his face.
"Move it," Reva ordered, "go sit down at the head of the table so your arm doesn't get jostled."
Surprised at her demanding tone, Don did what he was told, as the space quickly filled up with all the brothers and sisters. Sally insisted in standing in the doorway to keep an eye on Cotton, and now Donny. Crying silent tears from fright and worry, she rocked back and forth with her arms wrapped around herself, needing to do something to work out the terrible anguish she was feeling.
Trish looked up from her work on Cotton, and made a round O with her mouth when she saw Donny. Nodding at Bruce to take over working on the young boy, she turned to the other exam table to assess Donny's wounds.
"Go get Dory," Reva ordered Gary, who was standing in the other doorway. "She can scrub and help."
Gary sort of pulled back at her demand, and the nodded. He was interested in watching the Doc's work, hoping to find the reason that Don was taking so long to heal. He still felt, there was some problem that was being overlooked.
"Well, in this year or the next?" Reva snapped, when Gary didn't instantly start to move.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Wonderful women to get them going. thank you
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#188
Reva poked her finger in Gary's chest, "NOW," she ordered, "go get Dory!" she added, when the blank expression on his face told her that he had no clue, or his man brain had already forgotten what he was supposed to do.
"Yeah, I'll go get her. You really know how to hurt a guy, she's mean and nasty."
That announcement drew chuckles and snickers from several of the clan, and several others turned their heads to the side to prevent Gary from seeing their amusement.
Gary shuffled out the door and across the street and down to Dory's house. He knocked three times loudly, and listened to her cheery "just a minute." called from inside.
"Oh, it's you," there was no mistaking the let down in her voice, as her smile faded. "What do you want?"
"Reva wants you to come over and help Doc. Tricia, there are a couple of wounded guys and everybody's working, and they need you." Gary managed to mumble. "Can you come?"
"I'll be right there," Dory promised. "Let me get a apron and some clean rags." and she shut the door firmly in his face.
"Check through the shirts and we'll see if they fit you," Clora commented, breezing past the pile of shirts on the table.
"Ok, how is it that you have spare shirts?"
"You aren't aware that each of the houses were full of food and clothes, cooking pans and barn implements?" Clora asked as she directed the triplets to wash their hand after snack.
"Really, no I didn't know. I actually had no time to go through the places. Like I've explained before, I've spent more time here than anywhere in the last five years. I seem to have the good fortune when I'm wounded, to be close to here. I do however," and Wyatt paused, "feel like a mooch with the way you'all have fed and humored me."
"We have ways of getting even," Clora quipped in a friendly manner. "Boy's," she directed, "you have to play inside today, there is danger outside."
"Yes Grandma," three voices replied in unison. Paul was poked until he squirmed and spoke up. "Grandma, is he gonna put a shirt on. Ma don't allow us at the table without a shirt."
"Mr. Coleman needs help in putting on his shirt. I consider that to be a very rude question for the three of you to ask. I want you to apologize and go play without any further problems."
"I'm sorry," all three boys replied and turned and scampered away, whispering to themselves.
"They're regular little firecrackers, aren't they," Wyatt was looking down the hall as the boys made tracks to the playroom. "So, tell me, how do you know there's danger outside? I can't see that anything looks different,"
"I can feel it," Clora said simply as she picked up the snack plates and cups.
"You've said things like that before, and they puzzle me. How about telling me the truth behind what you are 'feeling.'" Wyatt's direct gaze compelled Clora to sit down. She pushed her coffee cup around a little.
"It's been a part of me, for so long, that I'm not sure how to explain to someone that doesn't believe. You see, I understand things. Sometimes before they happen, and sometimes after." Clora spoke softly.
"I see," Wyatt's thoughtful voice, said the words that he obviously was unaware of the meaning.
Reva poked her finger in Gary's chest, "NOW," she ordered, "go get Dory!" she added, when the blank expression on his face told her that he had no clue, or his man brain had already forgotten what he was supposed to do.
"Yeah, I'll go get her. You really know how to hurt a guy, she's mean and nasty."
That announcement drew chuckles and snickers from several of the clan, and several others turned their heads to the side to prevent Gary from seeing their amusement.
Gary shuffled out the door and across the street and down to Dory's house. He knocked three times loudly, and listened to her cheery "just a minute." called from inside.
"Oh, it's you," there was no mistaking the let down in her voice, as her smile faded. "What do you want?"
"Reva wants you to come over and help Doc. Tricia, there are a couple of wounded guys and everybody's working, and they need you." Gary managed to mumble. "Can you come?"
"I'll be right there," Dory promised. "Let me get a apron and some clean rags." and she shut the door firmly in his face.
"Check through the shirts and we'll see if they fit you," Clora commented, breezing past the pile of shirts on the table.
"Ok, how is it that you have spare shirts?"
"You aren't aware that each of the houses were full of food and clothes, cooking pans and barn implements?" Clora asked as she directed the triplets to wash their hand after snack.
"Really, no I didn't know. I actually had no time to go through the places. Like I've explained before, I've spent more time here than anywhere in the last five years. I seem to have the good fortune when I'm wounded, to be close to here. I do however," and Wyatt paused, "feel like a mooch with the way you'all have fed and humored me."
"We have ways of getting even," Clora quipped in a friendly manner. "Boy's," she directed, "you have to play inside today, there is danger outside."
"Yes Grandma," three voices replied in unison. Paul was poked until he squirmed and spoke up. "Grandma, is he gonna put a shirt on. Ma don't allow us at the table without a shirt."
"Mr. Coleman needs help in putting on his shirt. I consider that to be a very rude question for the three of you to ask. I want you to apologize and go play without any further problems."
"I'm sorry," all three boys replied and turned and scampered away, whispering to themselves.
"They're regular little firecrackers, aren't they," Wyatt was looking down the hall as the boys made tracks to the playroom. "So, tell me, how do you know there's danger outside? I can't see that anything looks different,"
"I can feel it," Clora said simply as she picked up the snack plates and cups.
"You've said things like that before, and they puzzle me. How about telling me the truth behind what you are 'feeling.'" Wyatt's direct gaze compelled Clora to sit down. She pushed her coffee cup around a little.
"It's been a part of me, for so long, that I'm not sure how to explain to someone that doesn't believe. You see, I understand things. Sometimes before they happen, and sometimes after." Clora spoke softly.
"I see," Wyatt's thoughtful voice, said the words that he obviously was unaware of the meaning.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you very much.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
No he does not see, but thinks he does. As my grannie would say he is a dumkoff.