Story Up On Hartford Ridge
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Or a guillotine. .....
Both tend to make a point with the miscreant crowd though. ......
Thank you Ms Kathy
Shotgun Willy
Contributing Member
Hogs is a pretty good way to dispose of a body, or four. Not that I know first hand, mind you.
But then the Hartfords couldn't eat the hogs...
beaglemama
Contributing Member
The same Hartfords that sold her and Sawyer out? She's wise not to trust them unless it's in their (jerk relatives') self-interests. A couple of them might have apologized, but she'd be smart not to trust any of them as far as she can throw them.
Chapter 121
I recognized the voice of one of the two new men. I didn’t like him. He wasn’t particularly rude or anything like that, but he reminded me too much of some people that used to think I was mentally deficient. There was one foster family in particular that used to talk around me rather than to me. Or they’d over explain things in a sing-song voice, intimating that my brain was three-quarters mush. I was only a month in that home but trust me, a month was enough, and I was lucky not to come out of it with a complex. That man made me feel the same way during the few dealings I had with him. What made it worse – or more enlightening – was that he was an upper-level clerk in the CI’s office. I knew I didn’t like him for my own reasons, but I had no idea he could sound as dangerous as he did in that moment.
The first two men acted like they had no idea what he meant but the third wasn’t budging and before any of us were prepared, he stepped in close to the first man and we heard a quiet “whump” and the man crumpled to the ground. While I was still registering what I’d seen the same thing happened to the second man.
The fourth man was as shocked as we were. “Boss that wasn’t part of the plan,” he whispered.
“I’m not going down. I’m certainly not going to be taken down by anyone like these two baffoons. Hollingbrook has already said he and the CI have ‘evidence’ they’ll use against us so we are the ones that will be held accountable.”
While my brain was trying to move fast enough to deal with all this new information, Cutter whispered in my ear, “Who is Hollingbrook?”
I gave him a look like he was a few bricks shy of a load. “The man in charge of the Harvesters. What planet have you been living on?!” I whispered back in high dungeon at having my own thoughts on the subject interrupted.
Uncle Ned poked both of us which reminded us how dangerous the situation was. What happened next was worse than anything I could have imagined.
There was a commotion from back where the others were. Then we heard several shots clearly. There was a fight and before the men by the pig pen could take aim in the dark a voice I recognized said, “It’s me you fools. And careful, there are three more in the trees down near you.”
Cutter and Uncle Ned froze in shock. I froze but it wasn’t from shock so much as wondering how much worse the night was going to get.
Down the trail came Bud, but he wasn’t alone. He had Uncle Mark by the throat with one arm and with a gun jammed in his side. I felt something starting inside me but I didn’t know where it was going.
“Get out of the bushes whoever you are. Now. Or Mark is a dead man. Davis might already be done for, but there could be time to save him if you do what I tell you and do it quick.”
From up the trail we heard a pain-filled voice. “Don’t listen to him! Save Dad! Save … argh!!”
Another voice, one of the cousins said, “Bud ain’t lyin’. Davis is going to bleed out if we don’t get him some help.”
Of one accord all three of us stepped out of the forsythia.
“Well if it ain’t the Baffa whore. Looks I get me some payback early.” He hit Uncle Mark with the butt of his gun and he went down at the same time Bud made a grab for me.
What had been building suddenly erupted. **WHAM!!** My metal feed bucket caught Bud right in the face. **WHAM!! WHAM!! WHAM!!** I just kept at it until I didn’t know what was more dented, my bucket or Bud’s head and face. Somebody in a funny get up finally picked me up and pulled me backwards.
“Whoa! That looks like fun but he’s down already and there’s enough blood to shovel, we don’t need to dig another hole.”
I was looking at my bucket, hoping it wasn’t beyond repair and asked casually, “Why dig a hole, just drop him down the old sinkhole … er … by the way, who are you and what are you doing on my land?”
Another “troll” was standing there. We both sounded so reasonable it obviously made everyone around us uncomfortable. Finally the man started snickering and took off the head gear of his troll get up … or whatever the proper name is for those camouflage outfits military men wear.
He was scratching his head and beard and reminded me of a question I hadn’t been able to find the answer to and it kept popping up at the most inconvenient times … like when I was almost asleep. “You know, I’ve been wondering if you don’t mind. Don’t you get chiggers by sticking all the grass and moss on that thing you’re wearing?”
A young boy … the “troll kid” that had eaten poke berries … came out of the bushes and said, “We used to until we started spraying the stuff down.”
And who should be with the troll boy?! “Burt Penny, I am going to skin you alive. Did I or did I not tell you …”
In a voice nearly an octave higher than normal he jumped to say, “Yeah but Barbara sent me to catch up with you because she had a bad feeling and then I saw Bud trailing you and …”
By the time he finished explaining with one of the longest run on sentences I’ve ever heard I wasn’t quite so angry at him. I still wasn’t happy. Not to mention, even in the dark he was rather pale and bug-eyed and worried how I was going to take his explanation. “If we get back to the house and if even a word of this isn’t true, you better pray I don’t save it all up until your Uncle Sawyer gets home.”
All he did was squeak, “Yes’m.”
I gave him one last look that would have frozen Big Foot behind in the middle of summer and then turned to the rest of the men who were just milling about.
“What are you all doing?! I don’t have all night. My chores are waiting. Get Davis and the others who are hurt back to the Aunts. Someone put an arm under Uncle Mark but wait until he cools off a bit, he’s about ready to blow.”
I heard the man mutter “Baffa” and I gave as good as I got by muttering back “Hartford.”
It was just a small interplay but some of the tension died back but not all of it because we all knew what was at stake. I sighed, “What a mess. Look, I don’t particularly care what you do with the men that are … incapacitated … including that idiot with the dented head. I just want them gone from this property and gotten rid of so that nothing gets back to any of us.” Turning to the non-Hartford group I said, “And thank you for helping when my nephew asked even though you aren’t under any obligation to do so. In return I don’t mind if you need to travel across this Hartford land so long as you don’t damage anything or … oh for Pete sake, just use some sense and teach your people what not to eat out here. One poke berry nightmare is enough for anyone. And while I will tolerate it, my husband might not be like minded so you’ll have to work it out with him when he gets home.” Things finally started moving and given the company, it was probably more that the wind had turned cold of a sudden rather than anything I said.
Uncle Mark was more hurt than he wanted to admit. He still was using more sense than most of the cousins combined when he said, “I don’t know what this is going to do to Dad and Uncle Forrester.”
I said, “For now they don’t need to know. And don’t look at me like that, you know in this instance I’m right. We don’t need to lie to them but there is that thing we used to talk about called plausible deniability. Not to mention, both men are currently dealing with some health issues. It doesn’t make them weak and no one should think otherwise but, each for their own reason, this could break their hearts.” I looked at the cousins all milling about and the uncles that were there too. I also gave Burt the eye. “There was a skirmish. Thanks to the fast action by the family no one has been permanently injured. We are not going to mention these other people here. We don’t know who they are or their names and it is going to stay that way. If it does happen to come up all that needs to be said is that they lent a hand and then faded away, to where no one has a clue. And we don’t either. As for what happened to the bad guys? Hobgoblins must have gotten them the same way they’ve been getting other strangers that have come up to the Ridge for who knows what purpose.”
“All right Ms. Smarty Pants, what about Bud?” Cutter asked. He wasn’t really angry, more strung out with what Bud had been spewing before someone thought to slap a piece of gorilla tap across his mouth.
“What about him? Last we heard was that Bud was taken in for questioning. That can be proven if it needs to be. Most of those are then sent out of the area. If anything else ever comes out all we’ll find out is that Bud was released and then went … somewhere else. Where we see or hear from Bud ever again is just going to be one of those mysteries.” I then looked at the man who was trussed up like a turkey and added in a voice as dead as it was when they told me I’d have drop foot for the rest of my life, “But if he doesn’t want to wind up perforated like a cheese grater, he’ll keep any dealings in this area at a distance … a long distance. I am done playing nice with fools. Especially fools that think they can just walk in and take over everyone’s land and in particular Sawyer Hartford’s land.” The look on my face must have been convincing of how serious I was. There was no sound beyond that which is made by nature for some time afterwards.
I recognized the voice of one of the two new men. I didn’t like him. He wasn’t particularly rude or anything like that, but he reminded me too much of some people that used to think I was mentally deficient. There was one foster family in particular that used to talk around me rather than to me. Or they’d over explain things in a sing-song voice, intimating that my brain was three-quarters mush. I was only a month in that home but trust me, a month was enough, and I was lucky not to come out of it with a complex. That man made me feel the same way during the few dealings I had with him. What made it worse – or more enlightening – was that he was an upper-level clerk in the CI’s office. I knew I didn’t like him for my own reasons, but I had no idea he could sound as dangerous as he did in that moment.
The first two men acted like they had no idea what he meant but the third wasn’t budging and before any of us were prepared, he stepped in close to the first man and we heard a quiet “whump” and the man crumpled to the ground. While I was still registering what I’d seen the same thing happened to the second man.
The fourth man was as shocked as we were. “Boss that wasn’t part of the plan,” he whispered.
“I’m not going down. I’m certainly not going to be taken down by anyone like these two baffoons. Hollingbrook has already said he and the CI have ‘evidence’ they’ll use against us so we are the ones that will be held accountable.”
While my brain was trying to move fast enough to deal with all this new information, Cutter whispered in my ear, “Who is Hollingbrook?”
I gave him a look like he was a few bricks shy of a load. “The man in charge of the Harvesters. What planet have you been living on?!” I whispered back in high dungeon at having my own thoughts on the subject interrupted.
Uncle Ned poked both of us which reminded us how dangerous the situation was. What happened next was worse than anything I could have imagined.
There was a commotion from back where the others were. Then we heard several shots clearly. There was a fight and before the men by the pig pen could take aim in the dark a voice I recognized said, “It’s me you fools. And careful, there are three more in the trees down near you.”
Cutter and Uncle Ned froze in shock. I froze but it wasn’t from shock so much as wondering how much worse the night was going to get.
Down the trail came Bud, but he wasn’t alone. He had Uncle Mark by the throat with one arm and with a gun jammed in his side. I felt something starting inside me but I didn’t know where it was going.
“Get out of the bushes whoever you are. Now. Or Mark is a dead man. Davis might already be done for, but there could be time to save him if you do what I tell you and do it quick.”
From up the trail we heard a pain-filled voice. “Don’t listen to him! Save Dad! Save … argh!!”
Another voice, one of the cousins said, “Bud ain’t lyin’. Davis is going to bleed out if we don’t get him some help.”
Of one accord all three of us stepped out of the forsythia.
“Well if it ain’t the Baffa whore. Looks I get me some payback early.” He hit Uncle Mark with the butt of his gun and he went down at the same time Bud made a grab for me.
What had been building suddenly erupted. **WHAM!!** My metal feed bucket caught Bud right in the face. **WHAM!! WHAM!! WHAM!!** I just kept at it until I didn’t know what was more dented, my bucket or Bud’s head and face. Somebody in a funny get up finally picked me up and pulled me backwards.
“Whoa! That looks like fun but he’s down already and there’s enough blood to shovel, we don’t need to dig another hole.”
I was looking at my bucket, hoping it wasn’t beyond repair and asked casually, “Why dig a hole, just drop him down the old sinkhole … er … by the way, who are you and what are you doing on my land?”
Another “troll” was standing there. We both sounded so reasonable it obviously made everyone around us uncomfortable. Finally the man started snickering and took off the head gear of his troll get up … or whatever the proper name is for those camouflage outfits military men wear.
He was scratching his head and beard and reminded me of a question I hadn’t been able to find the answer to and it kept popping up at the most inconvenient times … like when I was almost asleep. “You know, I’ve been wondering if you don’t mind. Don’t you get chiggers by sticking all the grass and moss on that thing you’re wearing?”
A young boy … the “troll kid” that had eaten poke berries … came out of the bushes and said, “We used to until we started spraying the stuff down.”
And who should be with the troll boy?! “Burt Penny, I am going to skin you alive. Did I or did I not tell you …”
In a voice nearly an octave higher than normal he jumped to say, “Yeah but Barbara sent me to catch up with you because she had a bad feeling and then I saw Bud trailing you and …”
By the time he finished explaining with one of the longest run on sentences I’ve ever heard I wasn’t quite so angry at him. I still wasn’t happy. Not to mention, even in the dark he was rather pale and bug-eyed and worried how I was going to take his explanation. “If we get back to the house and if even a word of this isn’t true, you better pray I don’t save it all up until your Uncle Sawyer gets home.”
All he did was squeak, “Yes’m.”
I gave him one last look that would have frozen Big Foot behind in the middle of summer and then turned to the rest of the men who were just milling about.
“What are you all doing?! I don’t have all night. My chores are waiting. Get Davis and the others who are hurt back to the Aunts. Someone put an arm under Uncle Mark but wait until he cools off a bit, he’s about ready to blow.”
I heard the man mutter “Baffa” and I gave as good as I got by muttering back “Hartford.”
It was just a small interplay but some of the tension died back but not all of it because we all knew what was at stake. I sighed, “What a mess. Look, I don’t particularly care what you do with the men that are … incapacitated … including that idiot with the dented head. I just want them gone from this property and gotten rid of so that nothing gets back to any of us.” Turning to the non-Hartford group I said, “And thank you for helping when my nephew asked even though you aren’t under any obligation to do so. In return I don’t mind if you need to travel across this Hartford land so long as you don’t damage anything or … oh for Pete sake, just use some sense and teach your people what not to eat out here. One poke berry nightmare is enough for anyone. And while I will tolerate it, my husband might not be like minded so you’ll have to work it out with him when he gets home.” Things finally started moving and given the company, it was probably more that the wind had turned cold of a sudden rather than anything I said.
Uncle Mark was more hurt than he wanted to admit. He still was using more sense than most of the cousins combined when he said, “I don’t know what this is going to do to Dad and Uncle Forrester.”
I said, “For now they don’t need to know. And don’t look at me like that, you know in this instance I’m right. We don’t need to lie to them but there is that thing we used to talk about called plausible deniability. Not to mention, both men are currently dealing with some health issues. It doesn’t make them weak and no one should think otherwise but, each for their own reason, this could break their hearts.” I looked at the cousins all milling about and the uncles that were there too. I also gave Burt the eye. “There was a skirmish. Thanks to the fast action by the family no one has been permanently injured. We are not going to mention these other people here. We don’t know who they are or their names and it is going to stay that way. If it does happen to come up all that needs to be said is that they lent a hand and then faded away, to where no one has a clue. And we don’t either. As for what happened to the bad guys? Hobgoblins must have gotten them the same way they’ve been getting other strangers that have come up to the Ridge for who knows what purpose.”
“All right Ms. Smarty Pants, what about Bud?” Cutter asked. He wasn’t really angry, more strung out with what Bud had been spewing before someone thought to slap a piece of gorilla tap across his mouth.
“What about him? Last we heard was that Bud was taken in for questioning. That can be proven if it needs to be. Most of those are then sent out of the area. If anything else ever comes out all we’ll find out is that Bud was released and then went … somewhere else. Where we see or hear from Bud ever again is just going to be one of those mysteries.” I then looked at the man who was trussed up like a turkey and added in a voice as dead as it was when they told me I’d have drop foot for the rest of my life, “But if he doesn’t want to wind up perforated like a cheese grater, he’ll keep any dealings in this area at a distance … a long distance. I am done playing nice with fools. Especially fools that think they can just walk in and take over everyone’s land and in particular Sawyer Hartford’s land.” The look on my face must have been convincing of how serious I was. There was no sound beyond that which is made by nature for some time afterwards.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Wow. When you take us off of one cliff, you just throw us onto an even higher one with even more questions!!
What will the family do now? Will they listen to Kay-Lee? Or will they throw her to the wolves? What will they do with those guys? What will they do with the pigs? Will the uncles and grandpa be okay? Will the family ever learn to not mess with Kay-Lee and learn to respect her for what she knows and can do?
What will the family do now? Will they listen to Kay-Lee? Or will they throw her to the wolves? What will they do with those guys? What will they do with the pigs? Will the uncles and grandpa be okay? Will the family ever learn to not mess with Kay-Lee and learn to respect her for what she knows and can do?
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
I love it and needed this tonight, thank you.
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Wow, just wow!!!!!What a nice surprise to wake up to!!!! Great chapter!!
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
But that removes the spontaneity of defending herself with what ever is at hand. Having a fabricated club in her possession makes KayLee look more than a little guilty of planning or even baiting into an ambush, not that Bud et al don't richly deserve an attitude adjustment.
Granted a good bucket is so useful for so many things and the loss of one might be an issue.
Maybe an Eastwing Framing hammer. ....
Cedar Lake
Connecticut Yankee
I agree whole-heartedly, at least 20 more chapters for this Volume............, and then slide right into Volume II, the continuing adventures of KayLee Hartford and The Hartford Clan.........
Cedar Lake
Connecticut Yankee
I have found that a Titanium Framing Hammer and a leather hammer holster wears well in a public setting, people just think that you are involved in a wood-working project of some kind or another. As Griz3752 pointed out, so useful for so many things.
They never realize what is really is in front of them..
They just need to dump Bud in the sinkhole with the rest of the bodies - let him see if he can climb out. I don't have even one little teeny tiny bit of tolerance for people like that.
Shooter
Veteran Member
you cant just throw a live person in a deep sinkhole. they might get hurt in the fall. they should be nice a dead,
Cedar Lake
Connecticut Yankee
Sure you can, let's see what happens........., Besides, this is Bud that we're talking about here.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Yes misdirection (aka smoke & mirrors) works in so many arenas. Sadly when I consider the cost of the aforementioned elite professional tool, that's beyond my means. Still for KayLee, the increase energy transfer could help her get her across to more deserving folks w/ fewer swings & less over all time.I have found that a Titanium Framing Hammer and a leather hammer holster wears well in a public setting, people just think that you are involved in a wood-working project of some kind or another. As Griz3752 pointed out, so useful for so many things.
They never realize what is really is in front of them..
Catshooter
Contributing Member
Shoulda thrown Bud to the pigs.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Oh man I need more.
beaglemama
Contributing Member
Don't make the poor piggies sick. The pigs deserve better.
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
So what do they do with the pigs and Bud?
..................until it's time 
.