Story Grace, Mercy and Blessings
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#331
Big felt in his pockets for his cleanest handkerchief. He patted them all, before he found his emergency hanky, the only one he would ever dream of offering sweet Miss Tilly. He grabbed his every day blue one and held it to his nose as he offered the other one to Tilly.
Sitting on the prairie, they sat back to back so they could tilt their heads back to ease the pressures in their noses. Tilly gave a very ladylike hiccup or two, the fact that she expected Big to lite out like a scalded cat, was eclipsed by his nearness. Tilly was having a most difficult time, controlling her emotions.
Tilly wasn't sure which half of her ancestry was all fired up and hitting on eight cylinders, but she sure was feeling hot.
Eventually they got the bleeding stopped; and Big passed his canteen around, to wash the blood/iron taste out of their mouths. Then he started laughing.
"Tilly me sweet, I believe ve vere made for each other. How say you?"
Tilly nodded carefully; she didn't want to start her nose bleeding again. "Yes Mr. Big, I believe you are entirely correct. Do you suppose we should go after the wagon, before the Doc. let's them run all the way to where they are going?"
Standing still, Big's horse didn't seem hurt, but he definitely was lame in the front shoulder when Big led him forward to help Miss Tilly mount.
"I would rather walk, I'm not a horseperson. All our horses were for driving or pulling, and Big, I never learned to ride." Tilly felt ashamed to confess her mortal weakness to Big, and hung her head.
Big looked into the far distance where Doc and the wagon had disappeared, hitched up his Levis, offered his arm to Tilly and they set out at a slow pace.
It was exactly what they needed, time to talk and become acquainted.
Doc finally got ahold of the reins , pulled himself into the wagon seat and got the fractious horses under control. Turning around, he kept the team at a steady trot until he had sighted his traveling companions.
Strangely enough, the horses were well inclined to walk the half mile or so back to pick up Tilly and Big.
Doc actually felt rough; the bouncing made his incisions hurt, and he was most happy to drag himself into his chair and let Big drive.
The happy couple made note of the older man's pallor, not saying a word to disturb the doctor's attitude, but understanding the jolting ride had cost the man his comfort.
It took them a day and a half to reach Fort Scott. Who should be right behind them pulling into town, but the group headed by Chuck and Jerry.
Abby had spotted the wagon with it's distinctive cabin and paint job, but no one recognized Tilly and Big. There was almost a pistol showdown, until Doc heaved himself painfully out of his chair and stopped the nonsense.
Jerry's bunch absorbed the news of Pricilla's deflection with no change in attitude. There seemed to be a general sigh of relief that she was gone.
There was a minister in Fort Scott, so Tilly and Big got hitched with big smiles. Bruce dug into his secret stash of money that he had discovered in the bottom of his medical bag, and bought coffee to toast the celebration.
"We're traveling hard and fast," Chuck told Big; "we hope to reach the retreat in two or so weeks. With the weather the way it is, I'm afraid we're gonna get snowed in, the closer to the mountains we get. Be ready at daybreak, if you want to travel with us." and the mountain man walked off, without getting Big's answer.
Big, Tilly and Bruce held a conference, discussing the edict from the wagon boss. All three of them felt they had better stay with the other group for protection and the ability to know where they were headed.
The group pushed hard, arriving at the retreat in three weeks. People, horses and the stock were all exhausted and weary to the bone.
It was the last week in October and the days were barely above 40 degrees, and the nights colder.
Because of Clora and Tess's ability, the retreat knew when the wagons were near.
When the last wagon was pulled in the yard and the gate closed, people sat in a dazed stupor of unbelief that they had actually gotten there safely. It had been a trying time.
Big felt in his pockets for his cleanest handkerchief. He patted them all, before he found his emergency hanky, the only one he would ever dream of offering sweet Miss Tilly. He grabbed his every day blue one and held it to his nose as he offered the other one to Tilly.
Sitting on the prairie, they sat back to back so they could tilt their heads back to ease the pressures in their noses. Tilly gave a very ladylike hiccup or two, the fact that she expected Big to lite out like a scalded cat, was eclipsed by his nearness. Tilly was having a most difficult time, controlling her emotions.
Tilly wasn't sure which half of her ancestry was all fired up and hitting on eight cylinders, but she sure was feeling hot.
Eventually they got the bleeding stopped; and Big passed his canteen around, to wash the blood/iron taste out of their mouths. Then he started laughing.
"Tilly me sweet, I believe ve vere made for each other. How say you?"
Tilly nodded carefully; she didn't want to start her nose bleeding again. "Yes Mr. Big, I believe you are entirely correct. Do you suppose we should go after the wagon, before the Doc. let's them run all the way to where they are going?"
Standing still, Big's horse didn't seem hurt, but he definitely was lame in the front shoulder when Big led him forward to help Miss Tilly mount.
"I would rather walk, I'm not a horseperson. All our horses were for driving or pulling, and Big, I never learned to ride." Tilly felt ashamed to confess her mortal weakness to Big, and hung her head.
Big looked into the far distance where Doc and the wagon had disappeared, hitched up his Levis, offered his arm to Tilly and they set out at a slow pace.
It was exactly what they needed, time to talk and become acquainted.
Doc finally got ahold of the reins , pulled himself into the wagon seat and got the fractious horses under control. Turning around, he kept the team at a steady trot until he had sighted his traveling companions.
Strangely enough, the horses were well inclined to walk the half mile or so back to pick up Tilly and Big.
Doc actually felt rough; the bouncing made his incisions hurt, and he was most happy to drag himself into his chair and let Big drive.
The happy couple made note of the older man's pallor, not saying a word to disturb the doctor's attitude, but understanding the jolting ride had cost the man his comfort.
It took them a day and a half to reach Fort Scott. Who should be right behind them pulling into town, but the group headed by Chuck and Jerry.
Abby had spotted the wagon with it's distinctive cabin and paint job, but no one recognized Tilly and Big. There was almost a pistol showdown, until Doc heaved himself painfully out of his chair and stopped the nonsense.
Jerry's bunch absorbed the news of Pricilla's deflection with no change in attitude. There seemed to be a general sigh of relief that she was gone.
There was a minister in Fort Scott, so Tilly and Big got hitched with big smiles. Bruce dug into his secret stash of money that he had discovered in the bottom of his medical bag, and bought coffee to toast the celebration.
"We're traveling hard and fast," Chuck told Big; "we hope to reach the retreat in two or so weeks. With the weather the way it is, I'm afraid we're gonna get snowed in, the closer to the mountains we get. Be ready at daybreak, if you want to travel with us." and the mountain man walked off, without getting Big's answer.
Big, Tilly and Bruce held a conference, discussing the edict from the wagon boss. All three of them felt they had better stay with the other group for protection and the ability to know where they were headed.
The group pushed hard, arriving at the retreat in three weeks. People, horses and the stock were all exhausted and weary to the bone.
It was the last week in October and the days were barely above 40 degrees, and the nights colder.
Because of Clora and Tess's ability, the retreat knew when the wagons were near.
When the last wagon was pulled in the yard and the gate closed, people sat in a dazed stupor of unbelief that they had actually gotten there safely. It had been a trying time.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
OH, thank you Pac. Nice treat to sit here and read your chapter. Managed to get 4 batches of plum jam done and have some plum preserves cooking to can. 
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#332
Everyone of the newcomers were hurt and bandaged in some way. They had come through highwaymen ambushes; illicit tolls, robber barons at river fords, and stealth snipers.
Donny limped around as he tried to unhitch Jerry's teams; as Jerry had a crease along side his head and was having headaches and vision problems. Abby had a bad hand; Wyatt had a good sized gouge in his right leg from a bullet, Chuck had a bandaged shoulder from a clubbing he had taken at the last river ford, Eldon had two shiners and a sprained wrist, Ivy had a twisted ankle and a sore hand.
Big was sitting on the wagon seat, looking thunderous and incensed beyond reason. HIS dear sweet Tilly was favoring a burned hand and a wrenched back; and to Big, that was a deceleration of war against the idiot that hurt his woman.
That Big had a hole in his foot and a concussion; he paid no nevermind too, it was Tilly he had failed to protect, and he was one very big, angry man.
Mark got them down from the horses and wagons and asked for silence as he gave a prayer of thanksgiving that the clan had come through alive.
While they were praying, one of the cows they had towed from the farm, fell over dead, still roped to the back of Jerry's wagon. The mostly grown calf started bawling over his deceased mother, the rest of the trailing cows milling about in confusion and nearly ran right through the assembled group.
Wounded men formed a wall to protect the women and children, and Wyatt found himself rolled up in a ball by a charging cow, landing in a heap at Tesse's feet. Wyatt tried to lift his hat in acknowledgement, and passed out.
Toby and Mark ran to open the pasture gate, giving the frightened animals a bolt hole to take them away from the people shouting and waving their arms.
Chuck, Donny and Eldon were trying to untie the remaining cattle and horses; as they were pulling, plunging and kicking to join their friends in the pasture.
Several mares went to the pasture trailing halters and lead ropes, the men deciding to wait until the morning to calm the agitated animals. Hurt people collapsed on the ground, physically incapable of walking to the big house.
Everyone of the newcomers were hurt and bandaged in some way. They had come through highwaymen ambushes; illicit tolls, robber barons at river fords, and stealth snipers.
Donny limped around as he tried to unhitch Jerry's teams; as Jerry had a crease along side his head and was having headaches and vision problems. Abby had a bad hand; Wyatt had a good sized gouge in his right leg from a bullet, Chuck had a bandaged shoulder from a clubbing he had taken at the last river ford, Eldon had two shiners and a sprained wrist, Ivy had a twisted ankle and a sore hand.
Big was sitting on the wagon seat, looking thunderous and incensed beyond reason. HIS dear sweet Tilly was favoring a burned hand and a wrenched back; and to Big, that was a deceleration of war against the idiot that hurt his woman.
That Big had a hole in his foot and a concussion; he paid no nevermind too, it was Tilly he had failed to protect, and he was one very big, angry man.
Mark got them down from the horses and wagons and asked for silence as he gave a prayer of thanksgiving that the clan had come through alive.
While they were praying, one of the cows they had towed from the farm, fell over dead, still roped to the back of Jerry's wagon. The mostly grown calf started bawling over his deceased mother, the rest of the trailing cows milling about in confusion and nearly ran right through the assembled group.
Wounded men formed a wall to protect the women and children, and Wyatt found himself rolled up in a ball by a charging cow, landing in a heap at Tesse's feet. Wyatt tried to lift his hat in acknowledgement, and passed out.
Toby and Mark ran to open the pasture gate, giving the frightened animals a bolt hole to take them away from the people shouting and waving their arms.
Chuck, Donny and Eldon were trying to untie the remaining cattle and horses; as they were pulling, plunging and kicking to join their friends in the pasture.
Several mares went to the pasture trailing halters and lead ropes, the men deciding to wait until the morning to calm the agitated animals. Hurt people collapsed on the ground, physically incapable of walking to the big house.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Oh, wow, and thank you so much.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
The dead cows needs to be pulled up and throat cut so the meat does not spoil, but can the clan do this with all hurt.
Use a horse to drag the cow into a barn and pull up and tie off and then cut the throat and then gut. The meat will have to be checked, but the weather is cool.
Texican....
Use a horse to drag the cow into a barn and pull up and tie off and then cut the throat and then gut. The meat will have to be checked, but the weather is cool.
Texican....
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#333
Clora and Tess went to the big house to start coffee; Tess craning her neck so often to keep track of Wyatt, that Clora laughed at her and said, "you're worthless, go check on him."
"Thanks Ma, I just might do that," Tess teased back. "They all seem in bad shape, can they sleep in here for tonight?"
"I want you and Dory to stay in the barn apartment tonight, but we'll have to put people in the rooms you have here. A safe night's sleep will do wonders for hurting bodies, things will look better in the morning." Clora decreed, and Tess nodded as she scooted out to where a knot of people were trying to get themselves up and going.
Big was off to the side talking to Mark; Gary, Toby and Milo were taking care of the downed cow, Abby was taking Tilly to the kitchen to meet Clora, Chuck and Dory were giving each other the 'eye,' Tess was soothing Wyatt, Bruce got down from his wagon and made a beeline for the house, Donny and the Jacks kids were standing on the fringes, looking lost.
Dory noticed immediately that the one unknown kid, was indeed a young woman, and she lost no time sending the three to the big house to get them out from under her feet. She thought it was a pretty slick move and went about helping Chuck to his feet and into the house.
Jerry started unhitching the teams, and Donny and Eldon detoured from their first intent and went to help. Ivy was right behind them, preferring to postpone the huge, noisy get together happening in the house, as long as possible.
The harnessed horses were standing quietly, grateful for the rest. In the last of the afternoon light, the gallant horses were brushed and turned out to pasture. Tired beyond belief, the four of them finally made it to the house, to collapse at the long table and just sit.
Tilly appeared with the push cart, coffee and a bowl of stew for each of them. Tilly was in her element. Clucking and fussing like a mother hen, although she was having to do things one handed. Clora looked amused at the capable Tilly, as she ordered the confusion and straightened out the mass of people.
Mark and Big came in the door and stood against the wall, talking. Big was well satisfied; he had made arrangements for Tilly and himself to stay and work for their board and room. Mark had been very clear that 99% of the work in the house would be for Big and Tilly to do.
"Clora is not well, she has rheumatic fever and needs to rest often. She can get so involved in a project, that she forgets to stop and rest; and that's why you and Tilly are welcome to be here. Your work is to make sure Clora has no work to do."
It couldn't have been any plainer or well explained; and Big nodded in happiness. He and sweet Tilly could do just that.
Clora and Tess went to the big house to start coffee; Tess craning her neck so often to keep track of Wyatt, that Clora laughed at her and said, "you're worthless, go check on him."
"Thanks Ma, I just might do that," Tess teased back. "They all seem in bad shape, can they sleep in here for tonight?"
"I want you and Dory to stay in the barn apartment tonight, but we'll have to put people in the rooms you have here. A safe night's sleep will do wonders for hurting bodies, things will look better in the morning." Clora decreed, and Tess nodded as she scooted out to where a knot of people were trying to get themselves up and going.
Big was off to the side talking to Mark; Gary, Toby and Milo were taking care of the downed cow, Abby was taking Tilly to the kitchen to meet Clora, Chuck and Dory were giving each other the 'eye,' Tess was soothing Wyatt, Bruce got down from his wagon and made a beeline for the house, Donny and the Jacks kids were standing on the fringes, looking lost.
Dory noticed immediately that the one unknown kid, was indeed a young woman, and she lost no time sending the three to the big house to get them out from under her feet. She thought it was a pretty slick move and went about helping Chuck to his feet and into the house.
Jerry started unhitching the teams, and Donny and Eldon detoured from their first intent and went to help. Ivy was right behind them, preferring to postpone the huge, noisy get together happening in the house, as long as possible.
The harnessed horses were standing quietly, grateful for the rest. In the last of the afternoon light, the gallant horses were brushed and turned out to pasture. Tired beyond belief, the four of them finally made it to the house, to collapse at the long table and just sit.
Tilly appeared with the push cart, coffee and a bowl of stew for each of them. Tilly was in her element. Clucking and fussing like a mother hen, although she was having to do things one handed. Clora looked amused at the capable Tilly, as she ordered the confusion and straightened out the mass of people.
Mark and Big came in the door and stood against the wall, talking. Big was well satisfied; he had made arrangements for Tilly and himself to stay and work for their board and room. Mark had been very clear that 99% of the work in the house would be for Big and Tilly to do.
"Clora is not well, she has rheumatic fever and needs to rest often. She can get so involved in a project, that she forgets to stop and rest; and that's why you and Tilly are welcome to be here. Your work is to make sure Clora has no work to do."
It couldn't have been any plainer or well explained; and Big nodded in happiness. He and sweet Tilly could do just that.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Love it, thank you
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Clora and Tess went to the big house to start coffee; Tess craning her neck so often to keep track of Wyatt, that Clora laughed at her and said, "you're worthless, go check on him."
Tess likes Wyatt a lot and will progress further if Wyatt has learned his lessons about how to treat women.
Texican....
Tess likes Wyatt a lot and will progress further if Wyatt has learned his lessons about how to treat women.
Texican....
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#334
It took Dory almost all of the next day, before she could buttonhole Bruce and get the 'straight' talk about Pricilla leaving the group. "Why would she do that?" Dory kept badgering the disinterested doctor. "Did you guys throw her out?"
Finally Bruce bellowed out, " she got herself hot under the collar, not something a reasonable person would do under the circumstances. Three of us thought the two wheel horses for the passage across the river was a fair deal. Pricilla took exception,
and wasn't going to trade. The thing is, ...." Bruce was angry and paid no attention to the stares of the clan in the dining room. "We needed to cross the river; and that crossing was the best one we could find."
Dory fluffed up like a mad, wet banty hen. "Don't you yell at me, you old quack. Pricilla always said you were a fake from the word go. Everybody worships at your feet, and your not worth a fig as far as I'm concerned."
Bruce halfway turned and gave the woman a sneer and twist of his lips. "Buzz off," he commanded. "Your sister is a harridan, thinks she's better than everyone else and runs her mouth at every opportunity. If you think she has been unfairly treated, go hunt her down and ask her yourself."
Bruce said his piece, turned around and picked up his coffee cup and ignored the vibrating with anger woman.
Dory had half a mind to wap the smug, conceited doctor on the back of his head, her hand itching to relieve her tension. She raised her hand and it was captured by Chuck who stood behind her.
"No," he said quietly, "Pricilla is a big girl, made her decision. You may not like it, but nobody asked you." he pulled Dory back away from the grinning Bruce, and Dory flamed anew with temper.
"He thinks it's funny," she raged, "I don't happen to think it is. Pricilla is my only sister, and who knows what sort of trouble she may be in; abandoned as she was without help or mercy."
Chuck clamed his hand around Dory's arm and jerked her toward the door and out into the cool evening air.
"You stupid little twit, this will probably get you thrown out of here. You certainly don't think any further than the end of your tongue," The mountain man looking bewhiskered buckskin wearing man shook her arm hard.
"I've heard Big talking and basically they were unprepared for the resentment Pricilla hurled at them. She refused to back down and was out voted on the crossing cost. The wagon and teams weren't any more Pricilla's, than Bruce's; and he had the majority on his side." Chuck was calm and rational, or so he thought.
Dory was just mad and not thinking straight. Finally she flopped down on the step and huge tears trickled down her cheeks. "I,...I just need to know she's Ok. If she wants to stay there or maybe find her if she has moved on, I just need to know. She's my only relative in the world." and Dory cried harder.
Chuck gritted his teeth, he hated a crying woman; almost as much as he hated the stifling closeness and autocratic authority of Mark. Chuck had already felt the harsh words of the patriarch concerning the poor condition of their teams and the livestock they had herded along with them.
Chuck held his tongue at Mark's allegations and made the instant decision to move on. One day in, and he was flat out mad and ready to leave before he did something drastic and something he would regret.
"Listen Dory, I have a solution and maybe it's something you might consider. What if the two of us took a wagon and went out to find Pricilla. I'm not going to stay here. I can't be my own man, and I'm not about to give that up at this stage of my life. Are you interested?"
Dory stopped crying, fished around in her pocket for a hanky for a loud nose blow and hiccupped. "Well, yeah, I guess I am. If it's any consolation, I understand completely how you feel. I feel like this is a prison. My only problem is, my foot swells and pains me. I was bitten by a snake, and it's a long haul recovery; I don't know how much good I would be as a helper." she said forlornly, feeling her glorious opportunity slipping away.
"Let me see what I can put together. The small wagon that Wyatt built, might be exactly what we need. Pulled by two horses with me on my saddle horse, you would have to drive them, but I think you can manage. Let's not tell of our intentions until I get things squared away." Chuck gave Dory a knowing look, and she nodded.
It took Dory almost all of the next day, before she could buttonhole Bruce and get the 'straight' talk about Pricilla leaving the group. "Why would she do that?" Dory kept badgering the disinterested doctor. "Did you guys throw her out?"
Finally Bruce bellowed out, " she got herself hot under the collar, not something a reasonable person would do under the circumstances. Three of us thought the two wheel horses for the passage across the river was a fair deal. Pricilla took exception,
and wasn't going to trade. The thing is, ...." Bruce was angry and paid no attention to the stares of the clan in the dining room. "We needed to cross the river; and that crossing was the best one we could find."
Dory fluffed up like a mad, wet banty hen. "Don't you yell at me, you old quack. Pricilla always said you were a fake from the word go. Everybody worships at your feet, and your not worth a fig as far as I'm concerned."
Bruce halfway turned and gave the woman a sneer and twist of his lips. "Buzz off," he commanded. "Your sister is a harridan, thinks she's better than everyone else and runs her mouth at every opportunity. If you think she has been unfairly treated, go hunt her down and ask her yourself."
Bruce said his piece, turned around and picked up his coffee cup and ignored the vibrating with anger woman.
Dory had half a mind to wap the smug, conceited doctor on the back of his head, her hand itching to relieve her tension. She raised her hand and it was captured by Chuck who stood behind her.
"No," he said quietly, "Pricilla is a big girl, made her decision. You may not like it, but nobody asked you." he pulled Dory back away from the grinning Bruce, and Dory flamed anew with temper.
"He thinks it's funny," she raged, "I don't happen to think it is. Pricilla is my only sister, and who knows what sort of trouble she may be in; abandoned as she was without help or mercy."
Chuck clamed his hand around Dory's arm and jerked her toward the door and out into the cool evening air.
"You stupid little twit, this will probably get you thrown out of here. You certainly don't think any further than the end of your tongue," The mountain man looking bewhiskered buckskin wearing man shook her arm hard.
"I've heard Big talking and basically they were unprepared for the resentment Pricilla hurled at them. She refused to back down and was out voted on the crossing cost. The wagon and teams weren't any more Pricilla's, than Bruce's; and he had the majority on his side." Chuck was calm and rational, or so he thought.
Dory was just mad and not thinking straight. Finally she flopped down on the step and huge tears trickled down her cheeks. "I,...I just need to know she's Ok. If she wants to stay there or maybe find her if she has moved on, I just need to know. She's my only relative in the world." and Dory cried harder.
Chuck gritted his teeth, he hated a crying woman; almost as much as he hated the stifling closeness and autocratic authority of Mark. Chuck had already felt the harsh words of the patriarch concerning the poor condition of their teams and the livestock they had herded along with them.
Chuck held his tongue at Mark's allegations and made the instant decision to move on. One day in, and he was flat out mad and ready to leave before he did something drastic and something he would regret.
"Listen Dory, I have a solution and maybe it's something you might consider. What if the two of us took a wagon and went out to find Pricilla. I'm not going to stay here. I can't be my own man, and I'm not about to give that up at this stage of my life. Are you interested?"
Dory stopped crying, fished around in her pocket for a hanky for a loud nose blow and hiccupped. "Well, yeah, I guess I am. If it's any consolation, I understand completely how you feel. I feel like this is a prison. My only problem is, my foot swells and pains me. I was bitten by a snake, and it's a long haul recovery; I don't know how much good I would be as a helper." she said forlornly, feeling her glorious opportunity slipping away.
"Let me see what I can put together. The small wagon that Wyatt built, might be exactly what we need. Pulled by two horses with me on my saddle horse, you would have to drive them, but I think you can manage. Let's not tell of our intentions until I get things squared away." Chuck gave Dory a knowing look, and she nodded.
beaglemama
Contributing Member
I can't blame Chuck - Mark is an overbearing jerk.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
I don't think Mark is overbearing or a jerk at all! He is very concerned and protective with "his people," and is smart, meticulous, and wise. He "don't suffer no fools," and he sure doesn't like dramatics. And Dory and Priscilla are dramatics. Mark is fair and he'll deal with everyone fairly, but if you cross him or his, then be prepared to deal with the consequences. And if he loses trust in or respect for you, it'll take you a loooonnnngggg time to gain either of them back.
Given the fact that a cow collapsed and died right when the group got there, they were probably pushing the animals too hard. The book even says that they were so excited to get there that they pushed. That was not a smart thing for them to do. What did they gain? A few hours??? And they lost a valuable cow that had a feeding calf, IIRC.
Chuck has had his ego butt-hurt. If he can't deal with it, then he is free to leave. He's an alone-type of guy anyway. He's going to rue the day that he offered to take Dory with him, unless he manages to change her. We'll see....
cliff dweller
Contributing Member
You have repeatedly expressed this sentiment throughout several books, now.
Sammy has a much sounder assessment of the situation.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Chuck - Mark
Chuck's a loner; might make a good small unit leader but a better scout/sniper type.
Mark, one way or another, is the leader. Its not a fun job and making decisions which affect many besides yourself but, as in this story, your immediate and extended family is a test of character and will not win popularity contests.
I somewhat agree with you but it has kept them alive, well some of them, for many years. Still I've never cared much for him.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Big thank you. Dory and Chuck aren't thinking very well.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#335
Dory went back to the barn apartment with dragging feet. It was a pity party for one, and she was doing a good job.
Clora casually walked over to stare out the window at Dory's dejected walk. The noise from inside the room was many notches higher than she was used to, and it contributed to a general disquietness.
The noise Tilly made as she opened and closed the oven door, the scraping of chair legs as people pulled up to, and pushed away from the table; the general noise level of several different conversations happening at the same time, all contributed to make Clora far more sensitive than she had been previously.
Mark was watching Clora walk away from the fray, and his 'Clora radar' as he liked to think of it, was pinging loudly and not in a good way.
Standing up and leaving a conversation with Big, practically mid sentence, Mark walked over to Clora, took her arm and they went for their quarters.
"What's wrong?" Mark asked as he shut the door and closed out the general mayhem in the kitchen.
"I'm not sure," Clora whispered. "I've never been so sensitive before. Everything is coming at me so fast and furious that I'm not able to process the bits and pieces. What it feels like is hail, bombarding my senses from all directions. There is danger, and then it's not danger. Good, and then not good. Chuck and Dory want to leave; and I'm telling you this so they leave soon. There is something about their combination, here in our place, that is unsettling to me. I don't know why, only that it is."
"Are they a danger to any of us?" Mark asked reasonably, standing with his feet planted, hands in pockets, looking out the window at nothing in the early falling evening.
"I don't believe so," Clora said hesitantly. "I'm counting on Tess to cover her family and Wyatt, Milo's and Toby's. I don't get any bad feelings about Big and Tilly, or the two youngsters, or Gary, Jerry or Abby. But still," ..... Clora couldn't put into words what she was feeling. "In some way, it's Bruce," Clora whispered so softly that Mark barely heard.
"Do you want me to kill him?" Mark never hesitated, as he turned to watch Clora's face.
"No, not yet." Clora said so out of character, "not yet. I need to understand, first. I want you to know, there is something about Bruce and the urns."
"Humm, you remember we had dealings with the urns, long before Bruce came on the scene." Mark prompted gently.
"True," Clora acknowledged, "true, but involved somehow. Also Mark, have you given any thought as to how all the houses have intact glass. There had to have been a fire fight when the group was killed here, and the houses sitting abandoned for many months drew no looters and scavengers? Especially in these times?"
Mark scratched his chin and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's been in the back of my mind," he admitted. "Realistically, people would have thought everything here was open for the taking. Look at the supplies still in the storeroom. Mind you, I'm certainly not complaining that they're still here, just puzzled they escaped being taken."
"I don't want you to speak of this, until I pray for answers." Clora halfway mumbled, "this is just to jumbled for reasonable explanations."
Mark was about to reply, when there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Dad," Gary said through the wood, "do you have time to talk to Chuck, he needs to run some ideas through you."
"Be there in a couple," Mark replied, as he rubbed cheeks with Clora and left her in the blessed quietness to pray.
Dory went back to the barn apartment with dragging feet. It was a pity party for one, and she was doing a good job.
Clora casually walked over to stare out the window at Dory's dejected walk. The noise from inside the room was many notches higher than she was used to, and it contributed to a general disquietness.
The noise Tilly made as she opened and closed the oven door, the scraping of chair legs as people pulled up to, and pushed away from the table; the general noise level of several different conversations happening at the same time, all contributed to make Clora far more sensitive than she had been previously.
Mark was watching Clora walk away from the fray, and his 'Clora radar' as he liked to think of it, was pinging loudly and not in a good way.
Standing up and leaving a conversation with Big, practically mid sentence, Mark walked over to Clora, took her arm and they went for their quarters.
"What's wrong?" Mark asked as he shut the door and closed out the general mayhem in the kitchen.
"I'm not sure," Clora whispered. "I've never been so sensitive before. Everything is coming at me so fast and furious that I'm not able to process the bits and pieces. What it feels like is hail, bombarding my senses from all directions. There is danger, and then it's not danger. Good, and then not good. Chuck and Dory want to leave; and I'm telling you this so they leave soon. There is something about their combination, here in our place, that is unsettling to me. I don't know why, only that it is."
"Are they a danger to any of us?" Mark asked reasonably, standing with his feet planted, hands in pockets, looking out the window at nothing in the early falling evening.
"I don't believe so," Clora said hesitantly. "I'm counting on Tess to cover her family and Wyatt, Milo's and Toby's. I don't get any bad feelings about Big and Tilly, or the two youngsters, or Gary, Jerry or Abby. But still," ..... Clora couldn't put into words what she was feeling. "In some way, it's Bruce," Clora whispered so softly that Mark barely heard.
"Do you want me to kill him?" Mark never hesitated, as he turned to watch Clora's face.
"No, not yet." Clora said so out of character, "not yet. I need to understand, first. I want you to know, there is something about Bruce and the urns."
"Humm, you remember we had dealings with the urns, long before Bruce came on the scene." Mark prompted gently.
"True," Clora acknowledged, "true, but involved somehow. Also Mark, have you given any thought as to how all the houses have intact glass. There had to have been a fire fight when the group was killed here, and the houses sitting abandoned for many months drew no looters and scavengers? Especially in these times?"
Mark scratched his chin and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's been in the back of my mind," he admitted. "Realistically, people would have thought everything here was open for the taking. Look at the supplies still in the storeroom. Mind you, I'm certainly not complaining that they're still here, just puzzled they escaped being taken."
"I don't want you to speak of this, until I pray for answers." Clora halfway mumbled, "this is just to jumbled for reasonable explanations."
Mark was about to reply, when there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Dad," Gary said through the wood, "do you have time to talk to Chuck, he needs to run some ideas through you."
"Be there in a couple," Mark replied, as he rubbed cheeks with Clora and left her in the blessed quietness to pray.
Sneaker 11
RECONDO
Look afar off..........Mr cliff is approaching. Thanks for the awesome story Ms Pac. I also agree with Sammy's assessment of Mark. I have led men in combat and when decisions have to be made however unpopular, a good leader will make it. It does not require a consensus.
11
11
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#335b
Wyatt had not been the easy sell that Chuck had hoped he would be. "I dunno," the sheriff had drawled, "I might have need of the wagon myself, after all, quarters are crowded here."
It took a while for Chuck to have the dawning bulb of light; that Wyatt wasn't going to say anything but 'maybe' as long as he was in earshot of any of the clan members.
"Take a walk with me," Chuck requested politely, "I really need to talk with you frankly. I need a wagon and don't want one of the bigger, heavier wagons. Dory and I are leaving," he flatly told Wyatt as they headed out toward the horse pasture. "I had hoped that the atmosphere might be different, but it has not changed, and never will. Mark and I do not get along, and there's no use pretending otherwise."
Wyatt had nodded, it didn't take a genius to notice the friction between the two men. Mark was very professional as his military training had taught him; and Chuck very much less so.
"I need cash," Wyatt spoke bluntly, "I had hoped to move the wagon out by the gate and see if I could sell it. Taking on the responsibility of a wife and three kids is gonna cost a lot. Of course, I would split the selling price with you, but I'm afraid I can't just give you my half."
Chuck debated several long minutes as they walked among the herd. "I'm gonna need a team, I suppose you feel the same way about the horses," he said in an almost peevish tone.
"Yes, but have you forgotten about your team of mares and colts; have you already traded them to Mark as a buy in?" Wyatt was asking hard hitting questions and it made Chuck irritated. The wishy washy personality Wyatt displayed as they traveled; had now been replaced by a hard driving strong and secure attitude that Chuck resented.
"I can pay you for your half of the wagon, depending on what you think it's worth." Chuck grudgingly spoke. He was taking a chance, admitting he had money, when he had previously admitted to being broke.
Wyatt looked at the man he had considered his friend, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of their relationship. Gathering his best 'law enforcement face', Wyatt said "I believe $300.00 is a fair price for my half of the wagon."
Chuck had an expression devoid of emotion, as he protested that neither one of them had any money involved in the construction of the wagon.
"Yes I do," Wyatt countered; "I have almost two weeks of labor and ingenuity in the building of the unit. You weren't there, but were off hunting, so it was up to me to put it together. That's worth something." he finished with a level look at Chuck.
"I suppose," Chuck finally admitted, "I guess you think half of the harness is yours also."
"Yes I do." The reply was swift and strong.
"OK, how about a thousand for the wagon and harness," Chuck proposed with a defeated voice. "I need some money for supplies," he added needlessly; "except I ain't getting them here. They wouldn't sell me any, anyhow."
Chuck didn't add that Mark didn't think enough of him to make his departure easy under any circumstances. It was all a big whine and smoke and mirror tale of woe, calculated to make Wyatt feel ashamed of price gouging his supposed friend.
Wyatt had not been the easy sell that Chuck had hoped he would be. "I dunno," the sheriff had drawled, "I might have need of the wagon myself, after all, quarters are crowded here."
It took a while for Chuck to have the dawning bulb of light; that Wyatt wasn't going to say anything but 'maybe' as long as he was in earshot of any of the clan members.
"Take a walk with me," Chuck requested politely, "I really need to talk with you frankly. I need a wagon and don't want one of the bigger, heavier wagons. Dory and I are leaving," he flatly told Wyatt as they headed out toward the horse pasture. "I had hoped that the atmosphere might be different, but it has not changed, and never will. Mark and I do not get along, and there's no use pretending otherwise."
Wyatt had nodded, it didn't take a genius to notice the friction between the two men. Mark was very professional as his military training had taught him; and Chuck very much less so.
"I need cash," Wyatt spoke bluntly, "I had hoped to move the wagon out by the gate and see if I could sell it. Taking on the responsibility of a wife and three kids is gonna cost a lot. Of course, I would split the selling price with you, but I'm afraid I can't just give you my half."
Chuck debated several long minutes as they walked among the herd. "I'm gonna need a team, I suppose you feel the same way about the horses," he said in an almost peevish tone.
"Yes, but have you forgotten about your team of mares and colts; have you already traded them to Mark as a buy in?" Wyatt was asking hard hitting questions and it made Chuck irritated. The wishy washy personality Wyatt displayed as they traveled; had now been replaced by a hard driving strong and secure attitude that Chuck resented.
"I can pay you for your half of the wagon, depending on what you think it's worth." Chuck grudgingly spoke. He was taking a chance, admitting he had money, when he had previously admitted to being broke.
Wyatt looked at the man he had considered his friend, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of their relationship. Gathering his best 'law enforcement face', Wyatt said "I believe $300.00 is a fair price for my half of the wagon."
Chuck had an expression devoid of emotion, as he protested that neither one of them had any money involved in the construction of the wagon.
"Yes I do," Wyatt countered; "I have almost two weeks of labor and ingenuity in the building of the unit. You weren't there, but were off hunting, so it was up to me to put it together. That's worth something." he finished with a level look at Chuck.
"I suppose," Chuck finally admitted, "I guess you think half of the harness is yours also."
"Yes I do." The reply was swift and strong.
"OK, how about a thousand for the wagon and harness," Chuck proposed with a defeated voice. "I need some money for supplies," he added needlessly; "except I ain't getting them here. They wouldn't sell me any, anyhow."
Chuck didn't add that Mark didn't think enough of him to make his departure easy under any circumstances. It was all a big whine and smoke and mirror tale of woe, calculated to make Wyatt feel ashamed of price gouging his supposed friend.
cliff dweller
Contributing Member
Pac, thanks for more!
Glad Chuck is planning instead of just leaving on the sly.
Good for Wyatt. He needed to step up and what a bit of nest egg he will have!
"Mark was very professional as his military training had taught him; and Chuck very much less so."
"Wyatt was asking hard hitting questions and it made Chuck irritated. The wishy washy personality Wyatt displayed as they traveled; had now been replaced by a hard driving strong and secure attitude that Chuck resented."
Chuck's character playing out.
Glad Chuck is planning instead of just leaving on the sly.
Good for Wyatt. He needed to step up and what a bit of nest egg he will have!
"Mark was very professional as his military training had taught him; and Chuck very much less so."
"Wyatt was asking hard hitting questions and it made Chuck irritated. The wishy washy personality Wyatt displayed as they traveled; had now been replaced by a hard driving strong and secure attitude that Chuck resented."
Chuck's character playing out.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#336
Chuck swallowed hard and asked the man he had shared so much time with, "would you go get my horses, harness them and hitch up the wagon for me please; I've got to alert Dory that we are almost ready to go, see if Tess will share some food with us and go talk to Mark."
"After I see the color of your money,"" Wyatt was infuriatingly calm and immoveable, but it was easy for Chuck to see the sheriff meant every word he said.
Turning to the side so Wyatt couldn't see the amount of money, Chuck fingered the worn and faded bills lovingly, as he pulled them from his wallet. There was plenty of money in the tattered leather wallet, Chuck simply hadn't intended to spend so much for a way to get away from the clan.
Handing Wyatt the money, Chuck gave his former friend a curt nod and turned to go search for Dory. He knocked on the barn apartment door and the lady in question answered.
"I'm leaving in an hour, if you're going, and you are welcome, be ready. See if you can get a couple of meals from Tess and some cooking utensils, all your heavy clothes and whatevers," Chuck instructed the somber Dory, and she nodded.
Chuck braved the warm and steamy kitchen in the big house, looking for Mark. It was Milo that directed him to the table with a cup of coffee, as he offered to go get Mark.
Mark decided to see Chuck in his office, where the lead man would be behind his desk, and Chuck could either sit or stand as he determined.
Chuck knocked on the study door and walked in, barely waiting for Mark's called out, "come in." It was a thinly veiled show of disrespect, and Chuck could see by the tightening of Mark's lips that it had been received exactly as he had intended.
"I'm leaving," he announced harshly, "Dory is going with me; I've settled up with Wyatt for his half of the wagon and harness, so I'm free of any debts." and Chuck turned on his heel and stomped for the front door.
Because he was already out of sight, Chuck didn't see the genuine look of relief on Mark's face. It was more than he had hoped for, getting rid of two problems at one time.
The news caused a stir when Wyatt drove the team and wagon to the front of the barn; the clan wanting to know where the sheriff was going. When Wyatt got down and Chuck helped Dory up into the seat, the ladies lost interest and went back to canning and boning the latest pork bounty.
Mark came out to unlock the gate, and wish the duo safe journey and asked if they wanted a send off prayer.
There was no reply as they exited the compound as quickly as possible, never looking back, saying thank you or goodbye.
Mark relocked the gate and heaved a sigh of relief; "now if only they stay gone," he told Milo as Mark held the door open for the red headed son to bring in another bin of freshly butchered pork.
"We will be blessed, if they do," Milo was cheeky with his reply. "This makes a dozen hogs we have butchered. Makes me feel better about the upcoming winter," he smiled at Mark, but his eyes were searching for Honey, just as Mark looked for Clora when he was coming in.
Mark noticed, and smiled in satisfaction. His sons made him proud.
Chuck swallowed hard and asked the man he had shared so much time with, "would you go get my horses, harness them and hitch up the wagon for me please; I've got to alert Dory that we are almost ready to go, see if Tess will share some food with us and go talk to Mark."
"After I see the color of your money,"" Wyatt was infuriatingly calm and immoveable, but it was easy for Chuck to see the sheriff meant every word he said.
Turning to the side so Wyatt couldn't see the amount of money, Chuck fingered the worn and faded bills lovingly, as he pulled them from his wallet. There was plenty of money in the tattered leather wallet, Chuck simply hadn't intended to spend so much for a way to get away from the clan.
Handing Wyatt the money, Chuck gave his former friend a curt nod and turned to go search for Dory. He knocked on the barn apartment door and the lady in question answered.
"I'm leaving in an hour, if you're going, and you are welcome, be ready. See if you can get a couple of meals from Tess and some cooking utensils, all your heavy clothes and whatevers," Chuck instructed the somber Dory, and she nodded.
Chuck braved the warm and steamy kitchen in the big house, looking for Mark. It was Milo that directed him to the table with a cup of coffee, as he offered to go get Mark.
Mark decided to see Chuck in his office, where the lead man would be behind his desk, and Chuck could either sit or stand as he determined.
Chuck knocked on the study door and walked in, barely waiting for Mark's called out, "come in." It was a thinly veiled show of disrespect, and Chuck could see by the tightening of Mark's lips that it had been received exactly as he had intended.
"I'm leaving," he announced harshly, "Dory is going with me; I've settled up with Wyatt for his half of the wagon and harness, so I'm free of any debts." and Chuck turned on his heel and stomped for the front door.
Because he was already out of sight, Chuck didn't see the genuine look of relief on Mark's face. It was more than he had hoped for, getting rid of two problems at one time.
The news caused a stir when Wyatt drove the team and wagon to the front of the barn; the clan wanting to know where the sheriff was going. When Wyatt got down and Chuck helped Dory up into the seat, the ladies lost interest and went back to canning and boning the latest pork bounty.
Mark came out to unlock the gate, and wish the duo safe journey and asked if they wanted a send off prayer.
There was no reply as they exited the compound as quickly as possible, never looking back, saying thank you or goodbye.
Mark relocked the gate and heaved a sigh of relief; "now if only they stay gone," he told Milo as Mark held the door open for the red headed son to bring in another bin of freshly butchered pork.
"We will be blessed, if they do," Milo was cheeky with his reply. "This makes a dozen hogs we have butchered. Makes me feel better about the upcoming winter," he smiled at Mark, but his eyes were searching for Honey, just as Mark looked for Clora when he was coming in.
Mark noticed, and smiled in satisfaction. His sons made him proud.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#336b
When Toby and Gary came in the canning kitchen for a quick cup of coffee, Toby remarked to Clora that the outside temperatures were dropping and he predicted a frost.
That information started a warp drive of activity. Tilly was left to manage the canners, everyone else was conscripted to the garden. Mark showed Big where the large hand carts were, and they rolled two of them to the fence for the picked produce.
Cabbage was the first item picked; heads large and small nearly filled the first cart. Gary, Donny and Eldon had shovels and were digging carrots, Tess and her boys were pulling onions, Ivy, Honey, Rennie and Clora were searching through the vines for all sizes of squash, cucumbers, just anything that might become food.
Toby was the elected lookout, and Mark and Wyatt along with Milo went to the pastures to call the horses in. The cows came in promptly, and were rewarded with a few snippits of hay. Ivory went to the far pasture, barking once or twice to start the herd moving to the barn.
"She's right smart," Wyatt announced, as he watched the dog nip at a few hocks to get the ladies ambling along.
"I just want to check everybody over before the weather turns. They need to be out on the pasture as long as possible as we have so little hay." Mark sighed hard. "This blasted weather, I don't know for sure how we're gonna get through till spring."
"How come you haven't expanded into the land around you? Has anyone ever indicated they owned the land?" Wyatt asked, and by the surprised looks on the resident clan's face, they had never considered the option.
When Toby and Gary came in the canning kitchen for a quick cup of coffee, Toby remarked to Clora that the outside temperatures were dropping and he predicted a frost.
That information started a warp drive of activity. Tilly was left to manage the canners, everyone else was conscripted to the garden. Mark showed Big where the large hand carts were, and they rolled two of them to the fence for the picked produce.
Cabbage was the first item picked; heads large and small nearly filled the first cart. Gary, Donny and Eldon had shovels and were digging carrots, Tess and her boys were pulling onions, Ivy, Honey, Rennie and Clora were searching through the vines for all sizes of squash, cucumbers, just anything that might become food.
Toby was the elected lookout, and Mark and Wyatt along with Milo went to the pastures to call the horses in. The cows came in promptly, and were rewarded with a few snippits of hay. Ivory went to the far pasture, barking once or twice to start the herd moving to the barn.
"She's right smart," Wyatt announced, as he watched the dog nip at a few hocks to get the ladies ambling along.
"I just want to check everybody over before the weather turns. They need to be out on the pasture as long as possible as we have so little hay." Mark sighed hard. "This blasted weather, I don't know for sure how we're gonna get through till spring."
"How come you haven't expanded into the land around you? Has anyone ever indicated they owned the land?" Wyatt asked, and by the surprised looks on the resident clan's face, they had never considered the option.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very, very nice, thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#337
"Youza!! I never considered expanding into land outside of the fence," Milo exclaimed. "Do we still have the deed, shouldn't it give us the dimensions of what we own? And, to answer your question Wyatt, I don't believe we've ever seen another person on the ground past the fence. Well, we have," he added facetiously," but they were gunning for us as in a raid., not a friendly neighbor type of afternoon social visit."
"I'll go get the deed, now I'm real curious about what we may or may not own," Mark turned around and headed for the house.
They owned many, many acres more than they first believed. "That one pasture might go all the way to the river," Milo was trying to turn the figures on the paper, into actual dimensions on the ground.
Mark was staring at the papers associated with the deed, and the signatures looked mostly correct, and yet they didn't.
"I bet," he said slowly, "that I see the fine hand of the prince in all of this. I haven't any proof, but I would bet he transferred the incredible acreages we left in Henderson to here. It would be just like him to pull a stunt like this and then sit back and laugh at us."
"Do you mean the prince that just died?" Milo was puzzled.
"No the original prince," Mark laughed. "In fact, Ma asked me a while ago , what happened to the bank accounts the prince funded for all our female children."
"All?" Milo asked, "how many would that be?"
"Well," Mark started naming girls; "Tess, Mandy, Liz, Claire, Lyric, Mary, Adoree, and probably a couple I've forgotten." He laughed as he watched Milo try to count out the girls that had been in the family.
"Too many," Milo gave up.
"Prince, what prince?" Wyatt asked. That opened up Mark's tale of the Rhodium, the urns and all the trouble that had happened and been caused by the association with the royal family.
"Absolutely freaking incredible," Wyatt shook his head in amazement. "It really is, and you guys say you just had a battle with another prince and he was killed?"
"Yes, and this paper may give us a clue as to why. I'm guessing that who ever brought the urns over to the States, buried them on this property when they couldn't locate us as we were moving to Iowa. Some how, they did find us, because we had three urns delivered during the blackout." Mark stood lost in thought as he watched the last of the horses straggle in, helped along by Ivory.
"OK, so that's what those things were; they gave me a huge case of curiosity." Wyatt laughed, remembering the slick trick maneuvering Mark had tried to pull to keep Wyatt away from the intriguing looking urns.
"You got it," Mark said in good humor, "so why don't you come up with a way to translate the land description into actual feet or perhaps miles. That and you need to spend your nights in the big house, no shenanigan's in the barn, especially now that Dory is not there to act as a chaperone." By the time he was finished, Mark wasn't smiling and the depth of his seriousness came across loud and clear to Wyatt.
"Yes sir," Wyatt snapped out, practically saluting.
"Good boy," Milo said under his breath, barely cracking a smile, but then ruining the moment by laughing aloud. "He means it," Milo advised, "there was this time, before Honey and I got married, that I was hanging around her bedroom door, and Dad got really hot over the impropriety of it all."
Mark gave Milo one of his best 'head lion' looks and it made Milo laugh harder. "Ya know Dad, that look really works, I've tried it, and it's effective."
Wyatt kept looking from one Linderman to the other, "I'm out gunned," he tried for a pitiful voice, and shook his head.
"Youza!! I never considered expanding into land outside of the fence," Milo exclaimed. "Do we still have the deed, shouldn't it give us the dimensions of what we own? And, to answer your question Wyatt, I don't believe we've ever seen another person on the ground past the fence. Well, we have," he added facetiously," but they were gunning for us as in a raid., not a friendly neighbor type of afternoon social visit."
"I'll go get the deed, now I'm real curious about what we may or may not own," Mark turned around and headed for the house.
They owned many, many acres more than they first believed. "That one pasture might go all the way to the river," Milo was trying to turn the figures on the paper, into actual dimensions on the ground.
Mark was staring at the papers associated with the deed, and the signatures looked mostly correct, and yet they didn't.
"I bet," he said slowly, "that I see the fine hand of the prince in all of this. I haven't any proof, but I would bet he transferred the incredible acreages we left in Henderson to here. It would be just like him to pull a stunt like this and then sit back and laugh at us."
"Do you mean the prince that just died?" Milo was puzzled.
"No the original prince," Mark laughed. "In fact, Ma asked me a while ago , what happened to the bank accounts the prince funded for all our female children."
"All?" Milo asked, "how many would that be?"
"Well," Mark started naming girls; "Tess, Mandy, Liz, Claire, Lyric, Mary, Adoree, and probably a couple I've forgotten." He laughed as he watched Milo try to count out the girls that had been in the family.
"Too many," Milo gave up.
"Prince, what prince?" Wyatt asked. That opened up Mark's tale of the Rhodium, the urns and all the trouble that had happened and been caused by the association with the royal family.
"Absolutely freaking incredible," Wyatt shook his head in amazement. "It really is, and you guys say you just had a battle with another prince and he was killed?"
"Yes, and this paper may give us a clue as to why. I'm guessing that who ever brought the urns over to the States, buried them on this property when they couldn't locate us as we were moving to Iowa. Some how, they did find us, because we had three urns delivered during the blackout." Mark stood lost in thought as he watched the last of the horses straggle in, helped along by Ivory.
"OK, so that's what those things were; they gave me a huge case of curiosity." Wyatt laughed, remembering the slick trick maneuvering Mark had tried to pull to keep Wyatt away from the intriguing looking urns.
"You got it," Mark said in good humor, "so why don't you come up with a way to translate the land description into actual feet or perhaps miles. That and you need to spend your nights in the big house, no shenanigan's in the barn, especially now that Dory is not there to act as a chaperone." By the time he was finished, Mark wasn't smiling and the depth of his seriousness came across loud and clear to Wyatt.
"Yes sir," Wyatt snapped out, practically saluting.
"Good boy," Milo said under his breath, barely cracking a smile, but then ruining the moment by laughing aloud. "He means it," Milo advised, "there was this time, before Honey and I got married, that I was hanging around her bedroom door, and Dad got really hot over the impropriety of it all."
Mark gave Milo one of his best 'head lion' looks and it made Milo laugh harder. "Ya know Dad, that look really works, I've tried it, and it's effective."
Wyatt kept looking from one Linderman to the other, "I'm out gunned," he tried for a pitiful voice, and shook his head.