Read Online Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] by Yesteryear - Free Book Online Page B

in stone except for her shining golden eyes. On bare feet, she stood poised and ready to strike. She was like the small, deadly copperhead snake so common in the Oklahoma Territory.
    “Trisha! No!” Colin turned, his back against John, and held out his arms as if to protect him. “He ain’t done nothin’.”
    “He got hold of ya—”
    “He might . . . could do somethin’ to help—”
    “Ha! Ain’t no
passerby
gonna do somethin’. This here gun’s gonna do somethin’.”
    John grasped Colin’s shoulders and moved him aside. “You’ve been dead set on shooting me since I came here,” he said far more calmly than he felt. “I’m getting kind of tired of it.”
    “I ain’t carin’ what yore tired of. Ya touch that boy and I blow yore head off.”
    Colin went to Trisha, put his hand on the rifle barrel, and pushed it down.
    “He ain’t done nothin’,” he said again.
    “You sure as hell need help, lady. I was thinkin’ to offer,” John said. “Now I’m thinking I’d better hightail it out of here while I can still fork a horse.”
    “Don’t go!” Colin blurted.
    Trisha rested the stock of the rifle on the ground and glanced from one to the other with a puzzled look.
    “Why you say that?” Her eyes honed in on Colin.
    “I don’t know. Somebody’s got to help.”
    “What’s this about the preacher taking Colin to someone named Renshaw? Is that what upset Mrs. Hyde?” John asked.
    “He ain’t takin’ ’im! I kill that sucker first!” Trisha drew in a deep, quivering breath. Her nostrils flared angrily.
    “Has Mrs. Hyde talked to a magistrate?”
    “I ain’t knowin’ nothin’ ’bout that. I know preacher ain’t givin’ Colin to that ol’ piss-pot hockey-head to diddle with.”
    “Diddle with?” John’s dark brows drew together.
    Trisha threw up one hand and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Her expression was one of disgust.
    “Are ya so dumb ya don’t know what
diddle
is?”
    John continued to look at the girl. Then suddenly his eyes hardened and narrowed. The anger deep within him caught fire and flared.
    “If you mean what I think you do, I’d like to have a private talk with Colin.” The dark blue eyes holding Trisha’s did not waver. Neither did her golden ones.
    “Ya hurt him, I kill ya.”
    “Fair enough.”
    “Miss Addie say come to dinner.”
    “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
    “Colin?”
    “Yeah. In a minute.”
    Trisha turned and ran lightly from the barn.
     
    *  *  *
     
    “You will sit in your usual place,” Addie said in answer to her son’s question. “Mr. Tallman will sit beside Colin. Put the knife and fork alongside the plate, Jane Ann. Oh, Trisha, are they coming?” she asked when the girl came in from the porch.
    “In a minute,” she said crossly, and stood the rifle in the corner.
    “Is something wrong?”
    “Colin likes that . . .
passerby.
”
    “That worries you?” Addie came closer to murmur so that the children wouldn’t hear.
    “Yeah. Could be he ain’t fittin’ for crowbait.”
    “Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt. He did a lot of work here this morning.
Dillon!
” Addie caught her son’s arm as he ran by her. “No running in the house. After dinner you and Jane Ann can chase yourselves silly—outside. You’d better go to the outhouse, then come in and wash up.”
    “You don’t tell Jane Ann to go to the outhouse.”
    “Jane Ann is old enough to know when she needs to go.”
    “Me too.”
    “Not always. Sometimes you put it off until it’s almost too late.”
    Grumbling, Dillon went out and Addie followed him to the porch. Just as she suspected, her son was pulling his suspenders off over his shoulders, preparing to let down his britches.
    “Dillon Hyde! Don’t you dare do it in the yard! Get to the outhouse or no bread pudding for you, young man. Hear?”
    Addie was tired. The preacher’s morning visit had drained her of energy. Too, she and Trisha had dug up a bucketful of little new