Story Grace, Mercy and Blessings
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#189
"Would you mind if we talk while I'm making supper?" Clora asked, and waited for Wyatt to finish his thinking.
"Yeah, fine." he mumbled, pondering what he knew, and what he didn't know.
Clora went through the under counter bins that held the potatoes, carrots, onions, selecting any that didn't meet 100% test. "I'm going to make a vegetable chowder for supper, is there anything you are particularly hungry for?"
"Muffins, a great big basket of hot muffins with butter," the sheriff said in a half dreamy voice. "My mom used to make muffins that were plain; but sweet and tender on the inside and slightly crunchy on the outside. The best I have ever tasted."
"Well, one out of two will have to do. What butter I have is needed to make the muffins, so I'm afraid there isn't any for the buttering. The nanny is slowly drying up, and the boys need her milk to grow, so there's no milk to set aside for butter. I sure wish we had a cow, I know the families down below share in the cow we brought from home; but none seems to find it's way up here." Clora was quiet as she voiced in her discontent, and to Wyatt, that made the situtation worse.
"There is a remedy for that," Wyatt said neutrally.
"I know," Clora acknowledged; "but they have worked out a schedule between the four families and I hate to interrupt that. Besides, I don't go down and work, milk or shovel."
"Well then, I guess you do without." Wyatt said with a shrug of his shoulders, his was thinking philosophically, if she wasn't going to make waves, then it wasn't up to him to feel outraged. It also occurred to him, that he was being gently lured away from the original speech.
"Ok, back to the question about 'knowing' things. What happened when you 'knew' about Donny? he said briskly. "I've never been acquainted with anyone that could predict the future."
Clora took the gift that was given and ran with it. If Wyatt hadn't thought about her being able to read minds, then she sure wasn't going to bring it up.
"Sometimes, it's not a happy or wanted intrusion into my life. I had a sense of danger concerning Donny, a mind flash that said he had been hurt by an animal. They have brought him into the clinic and he is being treated as well as people can be treated in this age of no modern medicine. Do you want to know that there will be great danger when the three of you go to the convention?"
"No....wait yes, ….. maybe you had better tell me, so I can make up my mind, if I should believe you or not." Wyatt was troubled, and had a dark scowl on his face.
"If you go to the meeting, all three of you will be shot." Clora stood at the sink and stared out the window into the slowly waning afternoon. Every time she thought about the conference, the danger she felt was magnified.
Wyatt was quiet for a long spell. Finally he asked, "fatally?"
"Yes."
"What does Mark think about this, and Tess, what does she think?" Wyatt queried.
"Both of them are comfortable with my predictions; I have stood the test of time, you might say. Both of the are in favor of not attending. They plan to talk to you tonight, rest assured, we would never let you go without firmly impressing upon you the danger. You however are your own man, and may do as you see fit."
"You've looked ahead and already know what I have planned to do; ...haven't you?" Wyatt had a funny inflection in his voice.
"Yes."
"You 'see' me getting shot and dying, I take it."
"Yes."
"I need to think on this." Wyatt went to stand up, and got woozy. Clutching the table edge, he lowered himself back into the chair. "I'm not sure I could even stay on my horse," he said to himself.
Clora refilled his coffee and put two more cookies on the plate next to the steaming mug.
"Would you mind if we talk while I'm making supper?" Clora asked, and waited for Wyatt to finish his thinking.
"Yeah, fine." he mumbled, pondering what he knew, and what he didn't know.
Clora went through the under counter bins that held the potatoes, carrots, onions, selecting any that didn't meet 100% test. "I'm going to make a vegetable chowder for supper, is there anything you are particularly hungry for?"
"Muffins, a great big basket of hot muffins with butter," the sheriff said in a half dreamy voice. "My mom used to make muffins that were plain; but sweet and tender on the inside and slightly crunchy on the outside. The best I have ever tasted."
"Well, one out of two will have to do. What butter I have is needed to make the muffins, so I'm afraid there isn't any for the buttering. The nanny is slowly drying up, and the boys need her milk to grow, so there's no milk to set aside for butter. I sure wish we had a cow, I know the families down below share in the cow we brought from home; but none seems to find it's way up here." Clora was quiet as she voiced in her discontent, and to Wyatt, that made the situtation worse.
"There is a remedy for that," Wyatt said neutrally.
"I know," Clora acknowledged; "but they have worked out a schedule between the four families and I hate to interrupt that. Besides, I don't go down and work, milk or shovel."
"Well then, I guess you do without." Wyatt said with a shrug of his shoulders, his was thinking philosophically, if she wasn't going to make waves, then it wasn't up to him to feel outraged. It also occurred to him, that he was being gently lured away from the original speech.
"Ok, back to the question about 'knowing' things. What happened when you 'knew' about Donny? he said briskly. "I've never been acquainted with anyone that could predict the future."
Clora took the gift that was given and ran with it. If Wyatt hadn't thought about her being able to read minds, then she sure wasn't going to bring it up.
"Sometimes, it's not a happy or wanted intrusion into my life. I had a sense of danger concerning Donny, a mind flash that said he had been hurt by an animal. They have brought him into the clinic and he is being treated as well as people can be treated in this age of no modern medicine. Do you want to know that there will be great danger when the three of you go to the convention?"
"No....wait yes, ….. maybe you had better tell me, so I can make up my mind, if I should believe you or not." Wyatt was troubled, and had a dark scowl on his face.
"If you go to the meeting, all three of you will be shot." Clora stood at the sink and stared out the window into the slowly waning afternoon. Every time she thought about the conference, the danger she felt was magnified.
Wyatt was quiet for a long spell. Finally he asked, "fatally?"
"Yes."
"What does Mark think about this, and Tess, what does she think?" Wyatt queried.
"Both of them are comfortable with my predictions; I have stood the test of time, you might say. Both of the are in favor of not attending. They plan to talk to you tonight, rest assured, we would never let you go without firmly impressing upon you the danger. You however are your own man, and may do as you see fit."
"You've looked ahead and already know what I have planned to do; ...haven't you?" Wyatt had a funny inflection in his voice.
"Yes."
"You 'see' me getting shot and dying, I take it."
"Yes."
"I need to think on this." Wyatt went to stand up, and got woozy. Clutching the table edge, he lowered himself back into the chair. "I'm not sure I could even stay on my horse," he said to himself.
Clora refilled his coffee and put two more cookies on the plate next to the steaming mug.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
I had a maternal Aunt who was pre-cognitive; nothing like reading minds or thoughts but she foretold many events. She's a long time dead & I always wondered if she foresaw that; she was my favourite.
Most of the extended family pooh poohed her but my Mother's side were mostly Romanian about 3 generations earlier so perhaps I was on target when I nick-named Mom and her two sisters the Gypsy Princesses.
Hopefully Wyatt is accepting of the concept; the family needs some fresh senior warrior blood & Tess deserves a life partner; Mark & Clora can't live forever, even in this Epic.
And a Happy Sunday & thanks to you Mrs Pac.......
Most of the extended family pooh poohed her but my Mother's side were mostly Romanian about 3 generations earlier so perhaps I was on target when I nick-named Mom and her two sisters the Gypsy Princesses.
Hopefully Wyatt is accepting of the concept; the family needs some fresh senior warrior blood & Tess deserves a life partner; Mark & Clora can't live forever, even in this Epic.
And a Happy Sunday & thanks to you Mrs Pac.......
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac. I always enjoy your chapters no matter what happens in them 
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#190
Chuck unsaddled his horse, tidied his saddle and rigging, went to his house and was struck by the cold silence. Starting a fire to warm the chill, he rummaged in his saddlebags for the makings of a meal.
He looked over at the general store and was happy to see George was still open. Walking over, he walked up and down the aisles, hoping something great and fantastic would catch his eye and appetite. Ahh, ….. there; he told himself. A big can of store bought peaches. Now if Millie had a loaf of bread, he'd be a happy man.
She did have a nice loaf of sourdough, a day old, but it looked and smelled good. Chuck stopped long enough to have a quick chat and find out what had happened while he had been gone.
An hour later, he was still listening to George; Chuck had opened the can of peaches and eaten the can full and most of the sourdough. Corbin came wandering in and greeted them all. He looked at the can on the counter and the heel of bread in Chuck's hand and laughed.
Another hour later, they were still talking. The afternoon shadows were growing longer and Chuck noticed there was no smoke coming from his chimney. His fire had obviously gone out, but he was filled with good food and tons of fact and gossip.
On his way home, Chuck detoured over to the mill and drug home a couple of heavy first cuts for the fire. Mindfull of that clown Gary, Chuck broke the wood and carried it inside to stack by the front door. It would be just like Gary to come by and snatch the wood off Chuck's porch.
Inside the clinic, the best, initial treatment Trish devised, was to sluice the chest wound with clean, cool, boiled water. It loosened the strips of cloth that had been caught in the shredded flesh, sunk in by the claws.
Donny moaned as the men held him upright and Trish poured. Every sound that Donny made, the young children jumped and started crying anew. Sally was white faced and clutching the arm of the chair. She had wanted to stay standing, touching Donny's foot for reassurance, but her knees just wouldn't hold her.
Milo and Toby had scrubbed their hands and were holding Donny; Tess relieved Trish in the water department and Trish grabbed the side of Donny's shirt and pulled it out away from the claw marks.
Donny hollered loud, and Mark had to grab two of the little kids, to keep them from tackling Trish.
Chuck unsaddled his horse, tidied his saddle and rigging, went to his house and was struck by the cold silence. Starting a fire to warm the chill, he rummaged in his saddlebags for the makings of a meal.
He looked over at the general store and was happy to see George was still open. Walking over, he walked up and down the aisles, hoping something great and fantastic would catch his eye and appetite. Ahh, ….. there; he told himself. A big can of store bought peaches. Now if Millie had a loaf of bread, he'd be a happy man.
She did have a nice loaf of sourdough, a day old, but it looked and smelled good. Chuck stopped long enough to have a quick chat and find out what had happened while he had been gone.
An hour later, he was still listening to George; Chuck had opened the can of peaches and eaten the can full and most of the sourdough. Corbin came wandering in and greeted them all. He looked at the can on the counter and the heel of bread in Chuck's hand and laughed.
Another hour later, they were still talking. The afternoon shadows were growing longer and Chuck noticed there was no smoke coming from his chimney. His fire had obviously gone out, but he was filled with good food and tons of fact and gossip.
On his way home, Chuck detoured over to the mill and drug home a couple of heavy first cuts for the fire. Mindfull of that clown Gary, Chuck broke the wood and carried it inside to stack by the front door. It would be just like Gary to come by and snatch the wood off Chuck's porch.
Inside the clinic, the best, initial treatment Trish devised, was to sluice the chest wound with clean, cool, boiled water. It loosened the strips of cloth that had been caught in the shredded flesh, sunk in by the claws.
Donny moaned as the men held him upright and Trish poured. Every sound that Donny made, the young children jumped and started crying anew. Sally was white faced and clutching the arm of the chair. She had wanted to stay standing, touching Donny's foot for reassurance, but her knees just wouldn't hold her.
Milo and Toby had scrubbed their hands and were holding Donny; Tess relieved Trish in the water department and Trish grabbed the side of Donny's shirt and pulled it out away from the claw marks.
Donny hollered loud, and Mark had to grab two of the little kids, to keep them from tackling Trish.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very big thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#191
Dory hit the door at full speed, one instant inside and she had the place hoppin, jumping and flattened against the wall as she turned into a whirling dervish, shouting orders that she expected to be obeyed.
Dory took one look at the wailing, sniffing Sally and her siblings and addressed Mark. "Get them out of here. If they want back in, they have to be quiet. This is nerve wracking to try and work with all this caterwauling."
Tricia looked up and nodded, adding her two cents silently. Staring at Mark, she reinforced the edict that the kids be removed.
Toby and Milo lay Donny back down on the table, and then, including Mark; each grabbed a couple of kids under their arms and headed for the kitchen. Sally stiffened and got ready to yell. Gary swooped her up from behind and kicking and screaming, she went to the kitchen with her brothers and sisters.
Bruce asked for a chair. "My knees are getting weak, who knows what happened to this kid?"
"None of us really, only that he was in danger," Tess said quietly to the gaunt doctor. "If I had to guess, I'd say a cat, 'cause there is still a sense of danger in the air. No kids outside alone and watch the livestock," she recommended to the assembly.
Mark came back in the clinic room and added his information. "Tess and I are not going to the council up North. There is going to be an attack upon the group here, sometime within the first week that we are supposed to be gone. I can't speak for Wyatt, he has the right to make up his own mind; but we need to put together some sort of defense. While Donny gets worked on, could we all gather here and have a discussion?"
"As long as you stay out of the doctor's way," Dory interjected. "I for one would like to be in on the planning. I also think Andy and Judy, George and Millie should be here. Oh yeah, the grizzly man came back this afternoon and the wagon master. We need every one here. What about Clora and Wyatt?"
"Gary, would you go get George and Millie and Corbin. If Chuck is here, bring him in also." Mark requested. "Toby or Milo, would you go up and get Andy and Judy and Clara?"
Milo nodded, " I'll run up there. Do you want Ma and Wyatt? Seamus and Phoebe?"
"No, not Ma and Wyatt." Mark paused. "My reasons have to do with the fact that Wyatt is still the Sheriff, and we will defend ourselves by any means necessary. Those means might not always conform to the Sheriff's notion of legal. We didn't come this far and put this much work into this town to loose it to a bunch of opportunists and exploiters."
In the late afternoon, the clan assembled in the clinic and the situtation discussed.
Toby started. "In a defense situtation, Donny's family, Tess and the houses across the road, closest to the river are the most vulnerable. I'm definitely open as to suggestions, on how we can group together and still tend the animals and care for those of us that are incapable of protecting themselves."
There was a heavy silence, no one had any magical solutions. The days of gathering together in the big house at Clearview Farm, were past. The sheer numbers of people precluded jamming everyone into one place. Mama's for sure disliked the idea of roping everyone together, busy thinking about how like little monsters, the other women's children acted.
To a man, the men understood they couldn't protect the clan, as strung out as the houses and farms were. Some grouping together was going to be necessary, especially the mama's with new babies needed to be close to the clinic, in case of further complications.
But, then again the clinic needed to be clear enough that wounded could be treated. The men also understood that what Mark was alluding too, was the fact there would be no mercy to wounded raiders. The only good raider was a dead raider; they didn't live to heal up and come back with a grudge. But, then again, there was no need to bring up the starkness to the women, before it was necessary.
Everyone was lost in thought, when Dory announced that Seamus, Milo and Gary needed to bring in wood before it got completely dark. "We need a great amount, water needs heated, coffee made and food prepared for the kids. Rennie, you and Clara and Judy start some kind of food cooking. Dad's, if your rotten kids don't stop with the harassing and teasing, I'm going to demand that you tie and gag them."
Don intended to speak up and remind Dory that she was out of line, when Reva poked him sharply in the ribs, on his good side.
"Shut up," she hissed. "Someone has to say it, and it might as well be now."
Dory hit the door at full speed, one instant inside and she had the place hoppin, jumping and flattened against the wall as she turned into a whirling dervish, shouting orders that she expected to be obeyed.
Dory took one look at the wailing, sniffing Sally and her siblings and addressed Mark. "Get them out of here. If they want back in, they have to be quiet. This is nerve wracking to try and work with all this caterwauling."
Tricia looked up and nodded, adding her two cents silently. Staring at Mark, she reinforced the edict that the kids be removed.
Toby and Milo lay Donny back down on the table, and then, including Mark; each grabbed a couple of kids under their arms and headed for the kitchen. Sally stiffened and got ready to yell. Gary swooped her up from behind and kicking and screaming, she went to the kitchen with her brothers and sisters.
Bruce asked for a chair. "My knees are getting weak, who knows what happened to this kid?"
"None of us really, only that he was in danger," Tess said quietly to the gaunt doctor. "If I had to guess, I'd say a cat, 'cause there is still a sense of danger in the air. No kids outside alone and watch the livestock," she recommended to the assembly.
Mark came back in the clinic room and added his information. "Tess and I are not going to the council up North. There is going to be an attack upon the group here, sometime within the first week that we are supposed to be gone. I can't speak for Wyatt, he has the right to make up his own mind; but we need to put together some sort of defense. While Donny gets worked on, could we all gather here and have a discussion?"
"As long as you stay out of the doctor's way," Dory interjected. "I for one would like to be in on the planning. I also think Andy and Judy, George and Millie should be here. Oh yeah, the grizzly man came back this afternoon and the wagon master. We need every one here. What about Clora and Wyatt?"
"Gary, would you go get George and Millie and Corbin. If Chuck is here, bring him in also." Mark requested. "Toby or Milo, would you go up and get Andy and Judy and Clara?"
Milo nodded, " I'll run up there. Do you want Ma and Wyatt? Seamus and Phoebe?"
"No, not Ma and Wyatt." Mark paused. "My reasons have to do with the fact that Wyatt is still the Sheriff, and we will defend ourselves by any means necessary. Those means might not always conform to the Sheriff's notion of legal. We didn't come this far and put this much work into this town to loose it to a bunch of opportunists and exploiters."
In the late afternoon, the clan assembled in the clinic and the situtation discussed.
Toby started. "In a defense situtation, Donny's family, Tess and the houses across the road, closest to the river are the most vulnerable. I'm definitely open as to suggestions, on how we can group together and still tend the animals and care for those of us that are incapable of protecting themselves."
There was a heavy silence, no one had any magical solutions. The days of gathering together in the big house at Clearview Farm, were past. The sheer numbers of people precluded jamming everyone into one place. Mama's for sure disliked the idea of roping everyone together, busy thinking about how like little monsters, the other women's children acted.
To a man, the men understood they couldn't protect the clan, as strung out as the houses and farms were. Some grouping together was going to be necessary, especially the mama's with new babies needed to be close to the clinic, in case of further complications.
But, then again the clinic needed to be clear enough that wounded could be treated. The men also understood that what Mark was alluding too, was the fact there would be no mercy to wounded raiders. The only good raider was a dead raider; they didn't live to heal up and come back with a grudge. But, then again, there was no need to bring up the starkness to the women, before it was necessary.
Everyone was lost in thought, when Dory announced that Seamus, Milo and Gary needed to bring in wood before it got completely dark. "We need a great amount, water needs heated, coffee made and food prepared for the kids. Rennie, you and Clara and Judy start some kind of food cooking. Dad's, if your rotten kids don't stop with the harassing and teasing, I'm going to demand that you tie and gag them."
Don intended to speak up and remind Dory that she was out of line, when Reva poked him sharply in the ribs, on his good side.
"Shut up," she hissed. "Someone has to say it, and it might as well be now."
steamroller
Contributing Member
Really great chapter, thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#192
"Dad, I'm gonna take my boys and go get Honey and the baby and bring her here." Milo motioned to his boys to follow him.
"Hold up, Tess and I will go with you. It's dark enough that the cat could be roaming anywhere, and we need to get the horses in the barn for the night. Tess can help Honey get ready to travel, and carry the baby while I provide security, and you help Honey. The boys can carry whatever is needed. Seamus," Mark caught the large man's attention, "We'll help you when we get Honey here. Basically the same routine for Phoebe and your twins."
"Aye Sir, we'll be ready," Seamus pledged, and beckoned his boys to follow him to their home.
The last vestiges of light was fading when the troop got to Milo's. The men went to bring in the horses, while Tess got Honey ready to move. They waited and waited for the men to get back, until Tess started regularly checking the back door, and not finding any movement.
Finally, there was a light in the barn and Milo could be heard whistling the horses in. It was almost another hour before the men came stomping on the porch.
"We believe the cat was in the barn, the horses refused to enter and we had to do a complete investigation to make sure it was safe. They're all in now, so lets get going." The clan made it to the clinic with a minimum of whining from Ricky.
"That's enough young man. Shut your mouth and carry that box and I don't want to hear another gripe out of your mouth." Mark snapped; shocking Ricky with his gruffness.
Robbie was smiling in the darkness, amused at his brother's misfortune. Robbie well understood that once you got yourself on Granddad's radar, that was an uncomfortable place to be. Granddad seemed to have a special ability to keep an eagles eye on everything a kid might want to do, if he was monitoring said kids behavior. It made Robbie chuckle, and Ricky was going to whine a protest at the way Robbie was enjoying his discomfort, when Milo straightened out his youngest son.
They made it to the clinic without further incident, and in the crowded melee, Ricky attempted to kick Robbie when no one was looking, and Robbie was waiting for some sort of retaliation, so he side stepped and somehow his foot managed to land on Ricky's smaller foot with a solid thump.
it was a magnificent, blood curdling yell, stopping all the talk instantly. "Dad, he kicked me and I went off balance and when I came down, I stepped on him by mistake."
Milo gave his oldest a hard look, judging rightly so, that there had been an attempt by Ricky to even the score, and it had gone bad. Milo reached over and hauled Ricky up by grabbing a fistful of shirt, bringing the young man eye to eye.
"Shut up and sit down and be quiet, or I will paddle your bottom right here in front of everybody," Milo told Ricky, bringing instant agreement from the child. By that time Robbie was close to his mother to offer assistance in any way she needed.
Honey gave Robbie the 'eye', and he was a pure angelic innocent boy.
Seamus and Toby had already moved Phoebe and the twins to the clinic, and it seemed to be wall to wall people with standing room only.
"I've got to get out of here," Gary said to Chuck and Don. "Too many people in here and I can't breathe."
"I'll go with you," both men said at once, easing themselves out the front door to the clinic. The cooling night air was a welcome relief to the hot, crowded conditions of the clinic.
"Dad, I'm gonna take my boys and go get Honey and the baby and bring her here." Milo motioned to his boys to follow him.
"Hold up, Tess and I will go with you. It's dark enough that the cat could be roaming anywhere, and we need to get the horses in the barn for the night. Tess can help Honey get ready to travel, and carry the baby while I provide security, and you help Honey. The boys can carry whatever is needed. Seamus," Mark caught the large man's attention, "We'll help you when we get Honey here. Basically the same routine for Phoebe and your twins."
"Aye Sir, we'll be ready," Seamus pledged, and beckoned his boys to follow him to their home.
The last vestiges of light was fading when the troop got to Milo's. The men went to bring in the horses, while Tess got Honey ready to move. They waited and waited for the men to get back, until Tess started regularly checking the back door, and not finding any movement.
Finally, there was a light in the barn and Milo could be heard whistling the horses in. It was almost another hour before the men came stomping on the porch.
"We believe the cat was in the barn, the horses refused to enter and we had to do a complete investigation to make sure it was safe. They're all in now, so lets get going." The clan made it to the clinic with a minimum of whining from Ricky.
"That's enough young man. Shut your mouth and carry that box and I don't want to hear another gripe out of your mouth." Mark snapped; shocking Ricky with his gruffness.
Robbie was smiling in the darkness, amused at his brother's misfortune. Robbie well understood that once you got yourself on Granddad's radar, that was an uncomfortable place to be. Granddad seemed to have a special ability to keep an eagles eye on everything a kid might want to do, if he was monitoring said kids behavior. It made Robbie chuckle, and Ricky was going to whine a protest at the way Robbie was enjoying his discomfort, when Milo straightened out his youngest son.
They made it to the clinic without further incident, and in the crowded melee, Ricky attempted to kick Robbie when no one was looking, and Robbie was waiting for some sort of retaliation, so he side stepped and somehow his foot managed to land on Ricky's smaller foot with a solid thump.
it was a magnificent, blood curdling yell, stopping all the talk instantly. "Dad, he kicked me and I went off balance and when I came down, I stepped on him by mistake."
Milo gave his oldest a hard look, judging rightly so, that there had been an attempt by Ricky to even the score, and it had gone bad. Milo reached over and hauled Ricky up by grabbing a fistful of shirt, bringing the young man eye to eye.
"Shut up and sit down and be quiet, or I will paddle your bottom right here in front of everybody," Milo told Ricky, bringing instant agreement from the child. By that time Robbie was close to his mother to offer assistance in any way she needed.
Honey gave Robbie the 'eye', and he was a pure angelic innocent boy.
Seamus and Toby had already moved Phoebe and the twins to the clinic, and it seemed to be wall to wall people with standing room only.
"I've got to get out of here," Gary said to Chuck and Don. "Too many people in here and I can't breathe."
"I'll go with you," both men said at once, easing themselves out the front door to the clinic. The cooling night air was a welcome relief to the hot, crowded conditions of the clinic.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
WooHoo thank you lol.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#193
"Fellas, I've got almost new, perked coffee on the stove. Not much else, I'm afraid. I just got home." Chuck apologized, and left it up to Gary and Don to make up their minds.
"I've got some stew, not a lot, but enough for a meal to divvy up between us." Gary offered hopefully.
"I've got some biscuits that Reva sent with me, enough for a couple apiece." Don offered up what he could spare.
"Then let's get to it," Chuck laughed, "I'm starving, having to deal with all those people made me hungry. I have a story to tell you about this fella I met with the most ugly horse God ever created."
"Deal," Gary chuckled, and he opened the door into Chuck's house.
The three men sat at the kitchen table, swapping tall tales and maybe lies, but who was counting.
Bruce had never felt worse, than bending over the body of Cotton. Everything he owned was stretching and out of position and muscles were screaming with stress. And he never felt better.
Cotton was moaning and trying to twist away from the cleaning Bruce was doing on his belly. "Tell me," Bruce ordered, "why did you have to be shot? You know us all here?" He needed to get Cotton's mind off the hurt and get him accountable for his actions.
"I dunno, I was just scared. Donny, he's teaching me how to shoot."
"Well, he's not doing a very good job of teaching you to be responsible; so is it his fault, or yours for not listening.?" Bruce was probing more than the cut across the youth's belly.
"He's good; real good to all of us; so don't you be sayin nuthin against him." Cotton blustered.
"Then you'd better smarten up boy, the next time you do something that foolish, you may wind up dead. You'd better thank your lucky stars that Milo is an excellent shot. Anyone less accomplished probably would have killed you." Bruce intended to put the fear into Cotton and it seemed to be working.
Finishing up the cleansing, Bruce sent Tony upstairs to find a shirt for the thin youth. "Daaaad, those are good shirts up there." Tony stalled.
"Now Tony," there was no disobeying the tone in Bruce's voice. Cotton looked up from inspecting his belly, "I don't need no charity," he braved. "I got shirts at home."
"You might," Bruce agreed, "but there's no leaving here tonight, so get your butt upstairs Tony and get a shirt like I told you to do."
This time it was Eddie smirking at the stern attitude Dad was giving his older brother. Tony looked over his shoulder, zeroing in on the look on Eddie's face, He scowled, his look promising retaliation.
Trish had her hands full cleaning Donny. The claw marks raked deep, the strong belly muscles of the man prevented the cat from disemboweling his prey.
George returned from his store with three bottles of hydrogen peroxide and one of alcohol. "My contribution," he placed the bottles on the top of the cart. The cleaning was going smoothly until Andy hit the door with a crazed look in his eyes.
In a panic, he almost skidded into the gurney where Donny was lying. Toby and Milo reached out and each grabbed an arm and jerked Andy backward.
Judy and Clara reached the door in time to see Andy pulled harshly backward, and they protested.
Mark held up his hand, "he's fine, but he almost bumped the gurney."
"I dunno," Cotton said surly, "I was scared, and she was running at us like a crazy woman."
"Fellas, I've got almost new, perked coffee on the stove. Not much else, I'm afraid. I just got home." Chuck apologized, and left it up to Gary and Don to make up their minds.
"I've got some stew, not a lot, but enough for a meal to divvy up between us." Gary offered hopefully.
"I've got some biscuits that Reva sent with me, enough for a couple apiece." Don offered up what he could spare.
"Then let's get to it," Chuck laughed, "I'm starving, having to deal with all those people made me hungry. I have a story to tell you about this fella I met with the most ugly horse God ever created."
"Deal," Gary chuckled, and he opened the door into Chuck's house.
The three men sat at the kitchen table, swapping tall tales and maybe lies, but who was counting.
Bruce had never felt worse, than bending over the body of Cotton. Everything he owned was stretching and out of position and muscles were screaming with stress. And he never felt better.
Cotton was moaning and trying to twist away from the cleaning Bruce was doing on his belly. "Tell me," Bruce ordered, "why did you have to be shot? You know us all here?" He needed to get Cotton's mind off the hurt and get him accountable for his actions.
"I dunno, I was just scared. Donny, he's teaching me how to shoot."
"Well, he's not doing a very good job of teaching you to be responsible; so is it his fault, or yours for not listening.?" Bruce was probing more than the cut across the youth's belly.
"He's good; real good to all of us; so don't you be sayin nuthin against him." Cotton blustered.
"Then you'd better smarten up boy, the next time you do something that foolish, you may wind up dead. You'd better thank your lucky stars that Milo is an excellent shot. Anyone less accomplished probably would have killed you." Bruce intended to put the fear into Cotton and it seemed to be working.
Finishing up the cleansing, Bruce sent Tony upstairs to find a shirt for the thin youth. "Daaaad, those are good shirts up there." Tony stalled.
"Now Tony," there was no disobeying the tone in Bruce's voice. Cotton looked up from inspecting his belly, "I don't need no charity," he braved. "I got shirts at home."
"You might," Bruce agreed, "but there's no leaving here tonight, so get your butt upstairs Tony and get a shirt like I told you to do."
This time it was Eddie smirking at the stern attitude Dad was giving his older brother. Tony looked over his shoulder, zeroing in on the look on Eddie's face, He scowled, his look promising retaliation.
Trish had her hands full cleaning Donny. The claw marks raked deep, the strong belly muscles of the man prevented the cat from disemboweling his prey.
George returned from his store with three bottles of hydrogen peroxide and one of alcohol. "My contribution," he placed the bottles on the top of the cart. The cleaning was going smoothly until Andy hit the door with a crazed look in his eyes.
In a panic, he almost skidded into the gurney where Donny was lying. Toby and Milo reached out and each grabbed an arm and jerked Andy backward.
Judy and Clara reached the door in time to see Andy pulled harshly backward, and they protested.
Mark held up his hand, "he's fine, but he almost bumped the gurney."
"I dunno," Cotton said surly, "I was scared, and she was running at us like a crazy woman."
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#194
"Cotton, that's enough," Donny's weak voice stopped Cotton's aggraviated reply.
"Donny," Cotton yelled, startling everyone into silence, "you're alive!" and he went to throw himself on Donny's form. Darting in and among the people standing in the crowded room, Cotton barrelled into Andy, giving him a scarecrow face plant on the floor, sending the brother into the gurney wheels where the old brake broke.
Faster than a speeding bullet, the gurney shot forward, running over Ricky and Eddie who were standing there with a shirt in Eddie's hand and open mouths. No one actually knew if the two young boys were hurt, but they sure sounded like it.
The gurney continued it's rapid, run away movement, and Milo and Toby made a lunge to grab the foot rail. Robbie and Tony scrambled to get out of the way, and didn't make it.
Both men ran full tilt into the two young boys, the slamming sound of body hitting body and very inappropriate cussing filled the air. The gurney stopped when Tony's arm and leg acted as a bumper for the churning wheels and pinched the nice soft skin under Tony's arm.
Wailing filled the air, the four young men renting the atmosphere with the injustice of it all. Sally and her entourage took one look at Donny on the gurney as it sped into the kitchen and started their own brand of screaming.
There was enough vibrating, screeching noise, that three young babies tuned up and gave notice of their displeasure.
Bruce had to sit down, he looked at the mayhem, shook his head and simply waited for the crazyness to subside.
On the floor, Toby and Milo looked at one another and said, "did you say volves? Where else would all of this come from." Then they started laughing like a couple of loons. Slowly, the sane people in the room and those not injured, parted and kept an eye on the two men drowning in laughter.
Mark took in the scene, shook his head and walked out.
"Cotton, that's enough," Donny's weak voice stopped Cotton's aggraviated reply.
"Donny," Cotton yelled, startling everyone into silence, "you're alive!" and he went to throw himself on Donny's form. Darting in and among the people standing in the crowded room, Cotton barrelled into Andy, giving him a scarecrow face plant on the floor, sending the brother into the gurney wheels where the old brake broke.
Faster than a speeding bullet, the gurney shot forward, running over Ricky and Eddie who were standing there with a shirt in Eddie's hand and open mouths. No one actually knew if the two young boys were hurt, but they sure sounded like it.
The gurney continued it's rapid, run away movement, and Milo and Toby made a lunge to grab the foot rail. Robbie and Tony scrambled to get out of the way, and didn't make it.
Both men ran full tilt into the two young boys, the slamming sound of body hitting body and very inappropriate cussing filled the air. The gurney stopped when Tony's arm and leg acted as a bumper for the churning wheels and pinched the nice soft skin under Tony's arm.
Wailing filled the air, the four young men renting the atmosphere with the injustice of it all. Sally and her entourage took one look at Donny on the gurney as it sped into the kitchen and started their own brand of screaming.
There was enough vibrating, screeching noise, that three young babies tuned up and gave notice of their displeasure.
Bruce had to sit down, he looked at the mayhem, shook his head and simply waited for the crazyness to subside.
On the floor, Toby and Milo looked at one another and said, "did you say volves? Where else would all of this come from." Then they started laughing like a couple of loons. Slowly, the sane people in the room and those not injured, parted and kept an eye on the two men drowning in laughter.
Mark took in the scene, shook his head and walked out.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very good, but boy Cotton has a lot to learn.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
He might be destined to be an object lesson for the rest of his tribe … … …
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#195
Clora was in a in-depth conversation with Wyatt. Slowly the supper she was working on came together and she fed the triplets and passed out cookies.
"Clora, I don't believe I understand much of what you're telling me. I can't understand how in this world you can tell what is happening by just thinking it out." Wyatt was looking deep into his coffee mug, as if the answer was floating around in the dark brew.
"I mean I really do appreciate the heads-up about the assassination; for some reason, I'd just as soon not die. Just how can you be sure?" Wyatt used his thumb to rub the top of the mug handle in a nervous gesture.
"Well," Clora sat down for a minute, "think of something from your childhood that only you would know."
"Like what?" Wyatt looked lost, "I don't know what to think about?" he complained.
"What about your Mother or Father's middle name? Did you have a pet or a brother or sister" Clora tossed out.
"Oh, Ok, you mean those kinds of questions. Ok, here goes. I've thought of something," he challenged.
"Collette Nichole Coleman." Clora said almost immediately.
Wyatt was very quiet, staring out the window with an angry scowl on his face.
"That was my baby sister, she died when I was seven years old. I've never said a word to anyone about her, so I guess maybe you can tell things. Do I have to be in the room for you to 'know' things?"
"I knew you had been wounded at the Inn, that's how Mark and the boys came to rescue you."
"Oh." Wyatt seemed to withdraw, "How do people keep you from knowing things about them?"
"I deliberately do not pry," Clora was calm and stared directly at Wyatt. "I couldn't carry the burdens of knowing everything about people. God gave me this gift and I ask him daily what He would have me do with it. I can tell danger better that some other emotions, that seems to come through loud and clear."
"Like the conference," Wyatt didn't have to guess too hard to get a confirming nod from Clora.
Clora was in a in-depth conversation with Wyatt. Slowly the supper she was working on came together and she fed the triplets and passed out cookies.
"Clora, I don't believe I understand much of what you're telling me. I can't understand how in this world you can tell what is happening by just thinking it out." Wyatt was looking deep into his coffee mug, as if the answer was floating around in the dark brew.
"I mean I really do appreciate the heads-up about the assassination; for some reason, I'd just as soon not die. Just how can you be sure?" Wyatt used his thumb to rub the top of the mug handle in a nervous gesture.
"Well," Clora sat down for a minute, "think of something from your childhood that only you would know."
"Like what?" Wyatt looked lost, "I don't know what to think about?" he complained.
"What about your Mother or Father's middle name? Did you have a pet or a brother or sister" Clora tossed out.
"Oh, Ok, you mean those kinds of questions. Ok, here goes. I've thought of something," he challenged.
"Collette Nichole Coleman." Clora said almost immediately.
Wyatt was very quiet, staring out the window with an angry scowl on his face.
"That was my baby sister, she died when I was seven years old. I've never said a word to anyone about her, so I guess maybe you can tell things. Do I have to be in the room for you to 'know' things?"
"I knew you had been wounded at the Inn, that's how Mark and the boys came to rescue you."
"Oh." Wyatt seemed to withdraw, "How do people keep you from knowing things about them?"
"I deliberately do not pry," Clora was calm and stared directly at Wyatt. "I couldn't carry the burdens of knowing everything about people. God gave me this gift and I ask him daily what He would have me do with it. I can tell danger better that some other emotions, that seems to come through loud and clear."
"Like the conference," Wyatt didn't have to guess too hard to get a confirming nod from Clora.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very big thank you Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#196
"Tell me, what does Mark think about this?" Wyatt was still in a challenging mode.
"I explained I would not 'read' his thoughts, unless there was a great deal of danger involved; such as this conference. We have been low key about the attack that is going to happen the first week the three of you are supposed to be gone. It is well planned, with organized men and is going to happen in the early morning hours. Our men," Clora paused to take a drink of coffee, "had a brush with this organized group on the way here. They were traveling in the dark of night by horseback. Milo estimated there were six men to a line and more than twenty lines. They practiced strict sound discipline, and rode at a trot. Our guys were off to the side, and hopefully weren't noticed."
"That large a group," Wyatt picked p a cookie and munched away thoughtfully, "and you say they are going to attack here? Have you picked up any reason as to why?"
"Slaves," Clora was succinct. "The mastermind is promoting a feudal type warlord takeover of the land."
"Ahh, you gotta be kidding," Wyatt acted flustered. "Not really."
"Yes really. Mark and Tess are on their way back here, question them; but don't dismiss what they will tell you, just because you don't like what you are hearing. Sheriff Wyatt, you are free to go at any time, we are not holding you here against your will. ...but... if you leave, we will not hunt you down to share information." Clora was very calm and deliberate with her announcement.
Wyatt had the grace to blush. That very thought had zinged across his mind not three seconds before. "This is very disconcerting, are you the only one in your family that can do this?"
Whatever Clora intended to say, was cut short by Mark and Tess coming in the door.
"It's a real free for all down there. Donny and Cotton are Ok, and everyone is getting bunched up in the clinic. We need to eat and then get back down there; there is a black panther on the loose and he raked Donny but good." Tess washed her hands and went to lift the lid on the pot on the stove.
"Mnnn, smells good, have the boys eaten?" she queried.
"Yes, they are in the playroom. I expect they will be out any minute as soon as they hear you and Mark." The two women efficiently ladled the soup and passed Clora's attempts at making crackers. The blessing was said, and spoons clinked in the light of the oil lamp.
Two quarts of home canned apple slices and cookies were dessert, and then Clora opened the box of unanswered questions. "Wyatt has questions about the conference, and the attack here."
"I have provided proof that I can understand thoughts," Clora added, "and you three need to talk out the conference and the attack."
Wyatt caught the quick flash of a look between Clora and Tess, and the almost imperceptible shake of Clora's head. It was disturbing to him to have them communicating, and not telling the whole group what was going on.
"Tell me, what does Mark think about this?" Wyatt was still in a challenging mode.
"I explained I would not 'read' his thoughts, unless there was a great deal of danger involved; such as this conference. We have been low key about the attack that is going to happen the first week the three of you are supposed to be gone. It is well planned, with organized men and is going to happen in the early morning hours. Our men," Clora paused to take a drink of coffee, "had a brush with this organized group on the way here. They were traveling in the dark of night by horseback. Milo estimated there were six men to a line and more than twenty lines. They practiced strict sound discipline, and rode at a trot. Our guys were off to the side, and hopefully weren't noticed."
"That large a group," Wyatt picked p a cookie and munched away thoughtfully, "and you say they are going to attack here? Have you picked up any reason as to why?"
"Slaves," Clora was succinct. "The mastermind is promoting a feudal type warlord takeover of the land."
"Ahh, you gotta be kidding," Wyatt acted flustered. "Not really."
"Yes really. Mark and Tess are on their way back here, question them; but don't dismiss what they will tell you, just because you don't like what you are hearing. Sheriff Wyatt, you are free to go at any time, we are not holding you here against your will. ...but... if you leave, we will not hunt you down to share information." Clora was very calm and deliberate with her announcement.
Wyatt had the grace to blush. That very thought had zinged across his mind not three seconds before. "This is very disconcerting, are you the only one in your family that can do this?"
Whatever Clora intended to say, was cut short by Mark and Tess coming in the door.
"It's a real free for all down there. Donny and Cotton are Ok, and everyone is getting bunched up in the clinic. We need to eat and then get back down there; there is a black panther on the loose and he raked Donny but good." Tess washed her hands and went to lift the lid on the pot on the stove.
"Mnnn, smells good, have the boys eaten?" she queried.
"Yes, they are in the playroom. I expect they will be out any minute as soon as they hear you and Mark." The two women efficiently ladled the soup and passed Clora's attempts at making crackers. The blessing was said, and spoons clinked in the light of the oil lamp.
Two quarts of home canned apple slices and cookies were dessert, and then Clora opened the box of unanswered questions. "Wyatt has questions about the conference, and the attack here."
"I have provided proof that I can understand thoughts," Clora added, "and you three need to talk out the conference and the attack."
Wyatt caught the quick flash of a look between Clora and Tess, and the almost imperceptible shake of Clora's head. It was disturbing to him to have them communicating, and not telling the whole group what was going on.