Story Grace, Mercy and Blessings
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Woo hoo, I wondered if they different folks were run into each other sooner or later 
.
.PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#311
"Good golly, is that you? Mr. Chuck?" Donny was the first to recognize the rider approaching him. The coat and hat pulled low gave few clues as to whom the rider might be; but Donny was a horseman, and he recognized the gelding first, and then the man.
"Who wants to know?" Chuck growled, not recognizing the youthful man he hadn't seen in almost a year.
Donny was as equally disguised in his sheepskin coat and hat. The beard was something new; but the droopy moustache was reminiscent of the old Donny.
"I'm Donny sir, I sure never expected to run into someone we knew." He chatted. "Jerry and Abby are about a half a day behind me, I was out scouting for meat; but not having any luck."
"Not much out and around," Chuck relaxed as he interacted with the boy. "We're staying at a farm of a relative of mine; you and the others are welcome to lite a spell and get caught up. We're fixin on takin out in a couple of days. The weather has us lookin for warmer places."
"Ain't that the truth, who ya got with you?"
"Sheriff Wyatt, he's workin on a wagon for us to travel with; it's just too blamed cold to sleep out in the open, not to mention maybe not all that healthy either." Chuck didn't have to interpret what he meant to Donny.
"Ain't that the truth again. We've sure run into our share of bad'uns; Abby drives our wagon while Jerry rides shotgun. We just had a tough time crossing the Illinois river; I actually wasn't sure we were gonna make it. I went across the swiftest part with a rope tied to the wagon tongue and took a couple of loops around a tree. It kept the wagon from drifting downstream more than it should have, but it was tough on the horses. Jerry says we have one more big river to cross, and I ain't looking forward to that." Donny was shaking his head and rubbing his chin.
"That's what threw me," Chuck laughed; "I wasn't used to you having whiskers."
"Yeah well," Donny ducked his head in embarrassment, "I must be getting to be an old man," he deadpanned.
"Yeah, really old," Chuck teased back.
The two men sat and talked, until the wagon became a small speck on the horizon.
"She's headed pretty true, she must be a fairly decent driver for a woman," Chuck observed.
Donny whipped his head around at the blatantly uncalled for remark. "You'd better be careful, sayin things like that; not only is she a good driver, but she's a crack shot. She reminds me a good deal of Mark, she doesn't suffer fools gladly."
Chuck just shrugged. He seemed to get along with men, but add a woman and his tongue started blabbing before his mind got in gear. He just let the talk die out.
It was an hour before Abby and Jerry got to the relaxed men, and they were as surprised as Donny to find a member of the clan.
"Good golly, is that you? Mr. Chuck?" Donny was the first to recognize the rider approaching him. The coat and hat pulled low gave few clues as to whom the rider might be; but Donny was a horseman, and he recognized the gelding first, and then the man.
"Who wants to know?" Chuck growled, not recognizing the youthful man he hadn't seen in almost a year.
Donny was as equally disguised in his sheepskin coat and hat. The beard was something new; but the droopy moustache was reminiscent of the old Donny.
"I'm Donny sir, I sure never expected to run into someone we knew." He chatted. "Jerry and Abby are about a half a day behind me, I was out scouting for meat; but not having any luck."
"Not much out and around," Chuck relaxed as he interacted with the boy. "We're staying at a farm of a relative of mine; you and the others are welcome to lite a spell and get caught up. We're fixin on takin out in a couple of days. The weather has us lookin for warmer places."
"Ain't that the truth, who ya got with you?"
"Sheriff Wyatt, he's workin on a wagon for us to travel with; it's just too blamed cold to sleep out in the open, not to mention maybe not all that healthy either." Chuck didn't have to interpret what he meant to Donny.
"Ain't that the truth again. We've sure run into our share of bad'uns; Abby drives our wagon while Jerry rides shotgun. We just had a tough time crossing the Illinois river; I actually wasn't sure we were gonna make it. I went across the swiftest part with a rope tied to the wagon tongue and took a couple of loops around a tree. It kept the wagon from drifting downstream more than it should have, but it was tough on the horses. Jerry says we have one more big river to cross, and I ain't looking forward to that." Donny was shaking his head and rubbing his chin.
"That's what threw me," Chuck laughed; "I wasn't used to you having whiskers."
"Yeah well," Donny ducked his head in embarrassment, "I must be getting to be an old man," he deadpanned.
"Yeah, really old," Chuck teased back.
The two men sat and talked, until the wagon became a small speck on the horizon.
"She's headed pretty true, she must be a fairly decent driver for a woman," Chuck observed.
Donny whipped his head around at the blatantly uncalled for remark. "You'd better be careful, sayin things like that; not only is she a good driver, but she's a crack shot. She reminds me a good deal of Mark, she doesn't suffer fools gladly."
Chuck just shrugged. He seemed to get along with men, but add a woman and his tongue started blabbing before his mind got in gear. He just let the talk die out.
It was an hour before Abby and Jerry got to the relaxed men, and they were as surprised as Donny to find a member of the clan.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac good deal Lucille.
good deal Lucille.PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#312
It was a warm reunion between the long separated clan members. Invited to the farm and a good nights sleep, Jerry and Abby provided a kettle of stew, and Abby made biscuits with the flour found in the house bin.
She had carefully picked out the wiggle worms as she found them, the flour moths larvae hopefully killed by the hot temperature necessary to cook the biscuits. As she was washing the dishes, Abby reflected on the flour, and the casual attitude they all had adopted towards such things.
Before the 'cleansing wind,' Abby had been a gourmand, with a fellow she had been seeing that was the executive chef in a four star restaurant. Behind the scenes and out of the public eye, a lot of risky situations took place in any restaurant, but now food was food and not passed over just because of a few larvae.
Abby used all the flour that was available, and gratefully took possession of the two pails of lard that Chuck offered. "Any thing here that you want, help yourselves. Wyatt and I have put away what we wanted; so the rest of what's here is up for grabs."
Abby, Jerry and Donny took the generous offer to heart and went through the house and barns and sheds like it was Christmas. There were clothes, boots, coats, food stuffs, livestock items and horse saddles, a prize beyond mere money value.
It took an additional three days to finish the farm hay wagon, into a fairly secure and water tight 'cabin' to use as a 'Conestoga.' It was decided to tie all the mares behind Wyatt's wagon, and three of the more promising looking cows behind Jerry's wagon. One of the cows was the bell cow, and the rest of the herd trailed along behind her in their slow plodding way. If nothing else, the members assured themselves, the cows would make good trading material.
The morning they moved out was especially sharp, and they shivered in the morning breeze. Abby drove her wagon, Wyatt drove his, and Jerry, Donny and Chuck rode shotgun. And it was shotgun. Wyatt had found the long gone farmer's stash of weapons in the barn. All five of them had double barreled 12 gauges, plus their regular battle weapons.
The rest of the journey looked better than it ever had, and the members pressed on hard.
Milo had his shoulder patched up by a combination of Honey and Clora. It had been a long time since Clora and Mark had seen Milo's shoulders, and the new wound simply added a new layer of scars.
Left handed Milo was feeling helpless, as he tried to reverse his mind controlled ways of doing things. "I just don't think right handed," he muttered as he tried buttoning his shirt one handed.
"I'll tell ya what," Honey whispered in his ear; "we can have you stay here in the apartment and do security with Dory," she teased. It got her a thunderous black, half lidded stare as Mark had done in his prime, and it was no less effective when it belonged to Milo.
Honey really wanted to snicker, but another look at Milo changed her mind. "Yes dear," she mimicked softly, giving him the illusion he was in control.
Toby and Mark were deep in discussion about what the fisherman had seen and had to do. "I'm not sorry that we eliminated that group of evil, evil people. Ya know, now that I think about it, I didn't see any women around there; so I'm thinking that we need to go back and scout the area. God help me for thinking this, but I believe they are all infected with wickedness and need to die."
Mark was nodding his acceptance of the facts. "I agree, tell me everything you learned about the mix of countries coming against us."
It was a warm reunion between the long separated clan members. Invited to the farm and a good nights sleep, Jerry and Abby provided a kettle of stew, and Abby made biscuits with the flour found in the house bin.
She had carefully picked out the wiggle worms as she found them, the flour moths larvae hopefully killed by the hot temperature necessary to cook the biscuits. As she was washing the dishes, Abby reflected on the flour, and the casual attitude they all had adopted towards such things.
Before the 'cleansing wind,' Abby had been a gourmand, with a fellow she had been seeing that was the executive chef in a four star restaurant. Behind the scenes and out of the public eye, a lot of risky situations took place in any restaurant, but now food was food and not passed over just because of a few larvae.
Abby used all the flour that was available, and gratefully took possession of the two pails of lard that Chuck offered. "Any thing here that you want, help yourselves. Wyatt and I have put away what we wanted; so the rest of what's here is up for grabs."
Abby, Jerry and Donny took the generous offer to heart and went through the house and barns and sheds like it was Christmas. There were clothes, boots, coats, food stuffs, livestock items and horse saddles, a prize beyond mere money value.
It took an additional three days to finish the farm hay wagon, into a fairly secure and water tight 'cabin' to use as a 'Conestoga.' It was decided to tie all the mares behind Wyatt's wagon, and three of the more promising looking cows behind Jerry's wagon. One of the cows was the bell cow, and the rest of the herd trailed along behind her in their slow plodding way. If nothing else, the members assured themselves, the cows would make good trading material.
The morning they moved out was especially sharp, and they shivered in the morning breeze. Abby drove her wagon, Wyatt drove his, and Jerry, Donny and Chuck rode shotgun. And it was shotgun. Wyatt had found the long gone farmer's stash of weapons in the barn. All five of them had double barreled 12 gauges, plus their regular battle weapons.
The rest of the journey looked better than it ever had, and the members pressed on hard.
Milo had his shoulder patched up by a combination of Honey and Clora. It had been a long time since Clora and Mark had seen Milo's shoulders, and the new wound simply added a new layer of scars.
Left handed Milo was feeling helpless, as he tried to reverse his mind controlled ways of doing things. "I just don't think right handed," he muttered as he tried buttoning his shirt one handed.
"I'll tell ya what," Honey whispered in his ear; "we can have you stay here in the apartment and do security with Dory," she teased. It got her a thunderous black, half lidded stare as Mark had done in his prime, and it was no less effective when it belonged to Milo.
Honey really wanted to snicker, but another look at Milo changed her mind. "Yes dear," she mimicked softly, giving him the illusion he was in control.
Toby and Mark were deep in discussion about what the fisherman had seen and had to do. "I'm not sorry that we eliminated that group of evil, evil people. Ya know, now that I think about it, I didn't see any women around there; so I'm thinking that we need to go back and scout the area. God help me for thinking this, but I believe they are all infected with wickedness and need to die."
Mark was nodding his acceptance of the facts. "I agree, tell me everything you learned about the mix of countries coming against us."
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Slowly but surely reassembling the core group to square off w/ a new combo of threats ....
Still pretty curious if Bruce finally reads/understands the memo re: his real worth.
Gary is of course, his own challenge.
And I want to know who Pris is waiting for.
No rush though; summer is apparently on the wane here though you wouldn't know it by the temps and we've got stuff to do. When you have time Ma'am ...THX.
Still pretty curious if Bruce finally reads/understands the memo re: his real worth.
Gary is of course, his own challenge.
And I want to know who Pris is waiting for.
No rush though; summer is apparently on the wane here though you wouldn't know it by the temps and we've got stuff to do. When you have time Ma'am ...THX.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you very much Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#313
Between Mark, Toby, Dory, and Tess; there was a clan member on guard duty all night long. Toby was just finishing up his three to dawn shift, walking quietly home; when he heard the hogs.
Back in the forest where they had dumped the putrid bodies under the tree, two immense sows were rooting along with a dozen or so piglets for each mama.
Moving slowly so as to not scare them off, Toby checked his loaded cartage and suppressor. Two quick shots downed the sows, and he got another three shots at the scattering wieners, putting one down.
After the shots, the stillness was overpowering. Nothing moved or sang the early morning in, but the clan was alert with weapons at the ready.
Toby whistled the 'all clear;' and Mark appeared around the side of Toby's house with Clora at his back. Milo was standing in his doorway, in his off white long johns and bandaged shoulder, holding a pistol awkwardly in his right hand.
Clora spoke low to Mark, and then went back to the barn apartment to start oatmeal for breakfast. The triplets were setting the table and Dory already had the water heating. Tess was asleep and Rennie and Honey were taking care of their own homes.
"Go ahead and start the oatmeal," she told Dory, "I'm going to do guard duty and Robbie can help me."
Clora went hustling across the compound to knock on Milo's door and request that Robbie come help her. Robbie was thrilled with the grownup 'job,' Milo looked proud and Honey looked doubtful. Jumping in his clothes, the youngster was ready in a flash.
Clora showed him how to exit the door and then vanish into the brush at the back of the house. Robbie had his 22, and listened intently as Clora whispered her instructions. They ghosted around to the back of the barn, and used the small man door to enter the cool darkness.
"You've fed the animals before?" Clora questioned and got an affirmative nod. "Ok, you do the chores, milk the one cow and then come upstairs to the lookout. Be as quite as you can be, we need to keep watchers guessing as to how many of us are on guard duty."
"Yes Grandma, I'll do my best," Robbie crossed his heart with his fingers and was rewarded by Clora's pat on his shoulder.
With her bad feet, it took Clora a long, arduous climb to get to the watch tower, and she most gratefully sat on the provided stool to rest. Unshouldering her rifle, she sat still and quiet, her eyes constantly roving over the compound and area outside the fence.
Bruce worked the night shift at the Conestoga 'clinic', for once enjoying the small stream of people with complaints. His good mood was fueled by the excellent rabbit stew made by Tilly.
Big had gone hunting, and had success with three good sized, plump bunnies. Bruce had eaten two large bowlfuls and felt stronger than ever. He was almost humming between patients, amazing Pricilla and Tilly with his cheerful exuberance.
"I'm not sure I know that guy," Tilly commented, "I wasn't aware he knew anything pleasant. He's done so much griping and complaining; I just figured that's the way he was."
"It's a mystery to me," Pricilla had to walk the long way around the cooking fire because Mr. Spook seemed to be permanently planted in front of her wagon.
Big was helping Tilly wash the dishes, casually staying close for protection for the meek and delicately helpless Cilla and Tilly. He wasn't real happy to find out that Bruce slept inside the wagon with the women. it almost offended his king sized sense of proprietary, but he well understood Tilly's warning glance.
Bruce finished his last patient, wiped his brow and went to the wagon to retire for the night. Any work exhausted him; he had almost slid to far down to recover.
Big sent the good doctor a dark glance, and was reprimanded by Tilly's tap on his hand. Tilly shook her head no, and then smiled at Big, and he instantly forgave her, Bruce, the weather, the harsh travel and any other incidentals that might or might not have happened during the day.
Big was smitten; if sweet Tilly would favor him with another smile, he would sleep well tonight and dream. He hadn't told tilly That he was going to sleep under her wagon, and it caused her to arch her eyebrow at him, but she said nothing when he threw his bedroll under the wagon. She favored him with a smile.
Not to be outdone, Spook harrumphed a couple of times and went to his saddle for his bedroll.
Later that night, as they spread out their bedrolls, Tilly whispered to Pricilla, "It's a nice feeling to be protected."
Between Mark, Toby, Dory, and Tess; there was a clan member on guard duty all night long. Toby was just finishing up his three to dawn shift, walking quietly home; when he heard the hogs.
Back in the forest where they had dumped the putrid bodies under the tree, two immense sows were rooting along with a dozen or so piglets for each mama.
Moving slowly so as to not scare them off, Toby checked his loaded cartage and suppressor. Two quick shots downed the sows, and he got another three shots at the scattering wieners, putting one down.
After the shots, the stillness was overpowering. Nothing moved or sang the early morning in, but the clan was alert with weapons at the ready.
Toby whistled the 'all clear;' and Mark appeared around the side of Toby's house with Clora at his back. Milo was standing in his doorway, in his off white long johns and bandaged shoulder, holding a pistol awkwardly in his right hand.
Clora spoke low to Mark, and then went back to the barn apartment to start oatmeal for breakfast. The triplets were setting the table and Dory already had the water heating. Tess was asleep and Rennie and Honey were taking care of their own homes.
"Go ahead and start the oatmeal," she told Dory, "I'm going to do guard duty and Robbie can help me."
Clora went hustling across the compound to knock on Milo's door and request that Robbie come help her. Robbie was thrilled with the grownup 'job,' Milo looked proud and Honey looked doubtful. Jumping in his clothes, the youngster was ready in a flash.
Clora showed him how to exit the door and then vanish into the brush at the back of the house. Robbie had his 22, and listened intently as Clora whispered her instructions. They ghosted around to the back of the barn, and used the small man door to enter the cool darkness.
"You've fed the animals before?" Clora questioned and got an affirmative nod. "Ok, you do the chores, milk the one cow and then come upstairs to the lookout. Be as quite as you can be, we need to keep watchers guessing as to how many of us are on guard duty."
"Yes Grandma, I'll do my best," Robbie crossed his heart with his fingers and was rewarded by Clora's pat on his shoulder.
With her bad feet, it took Clora a long, arduous climb to get to the watch tower, and she most gratefully sat on the provided stool to rest. Unshouldering her rifle, she sat still and quiet, her eyes constantly roving over the compound and area outside the fence.
Bruce worked the night shift at the Conestoga 'clinic', for once enjoying the small stream of people with complaints. His good mood was fueled by the excellent rabbit stew made by Tilly.
Big had gone hunting, and had success with three good sized, plump bunnies. Bruce had eaten two large bowlfuls and felt stronger than ever. He was almost humming between patients, amazing Pricilla and Tilly with his cheerful exuberance.
"I'm not sure I know that guy," Tilly commented, "I wasn't aware he knew anything pleasant. He's done so much griping and complaining; I just figured that's the way he was."
"It's a mystery to me," Pricilla had to walk the long way around the cooking fire because Mr. Spook seemed to be permanently planted in front of her wagon.
Big was helping Tilly wash the dishes, casually staying close for protection for the meek and delicately helpless Cilla and Tilly. He wasn't real happy to find out that Bruce slept inside the wagon with the women. it almost offended his king sized sense of proprietary, but he well understood Tilly's warning glance.
Bruce finished his last patient, wiped his brow and went to the wagon to retire for the night. Any work exhausted him; he had almost slid to far down to recover.
Big sent the good doctor a dark glance, and was reprimanded by Tilly's tap on his hand. Tilly shook her head no, and then smiled at Big, and he instantly forgave her, Bruce, the weather, the harsh travel and any other incidentals that might or might not have happened during the day.
Big was smitten; if sweet Tilly would favor him with another smile, he would sleep well tonight and dream. He hadn't told tilly That he was going to sleep under her wagon, and it caused her to arch her eyebrow at him, but she said nothing when he threw his bedroll under the wagon. She favored him with a smile.
Not to be outdone, Spook harrumphed a couple of times and went to his saddle for his bedroll.
Later that night, as they spread out their bedrolls, Tilly whispered to Pricilla, "It's a nice feeling to be protected."
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#314
Gary spent a week at the plantation house. He did circles around Lemmie's old place, hoping against hope that he might find some trace of Ricky. Everything seemed against him, the disappearance of the troubled and troublesome young man; the weather and the total lack of people out and about.
Finally, bored with his do nothing existence, Gary broke camp and rode into Hendersonville. It was still fire ravaged, a dull gray monospace, as all burned landscapes are. His dog ran around sniffing and exploring; finding nothing of interest in the dust and ashes.
He rode over by the hardware store, and looked in the basement. Whatever had been there was rusted in the weather driven years. He supposed that Mark had been back to collect anything of value; so he didn't go exploring.
The big fancy house they had lived in, had burned to the ground. the rusty hulks of the two huge refrigerators were tilted on their sides in the basement. Most of the barn had fallen to ruin, and when Gary looked inside, he found an old shovel leaning against the hand hewn timber that was the north east corner. He dismounted and picked up the shovel, his mind thinking about heading back down the hill to the lake.
Gary intended to rebury the bones that had been scattered by the raiders. After all Sam was there, and John, and he supposed Claire and a bunch of others. They deserved to rest in peace, so that became Gary's mission.
He dug one large grave and settled all the bones he could find. The stones he lined up along the uphill side and filled the hole. There was something satisfying about completing the disagreeable task and leaving the dead to their rest. Gary stood with his hat off and recited the only prayer he could remember, the 23 Psalm. He thought of Ma, how she went to the prayer the minute anything happened. It was a good solid feeling to be connected in that way, he supposed he'd better get back to the retreat. Gary hoped that Ma had felt the death of Ricky and had explained the scenario to Milo and Honey. He didn't fancy being the bearer of bad news.
Gary spent a week at the plantation house. He did circles around Lemmie's old place, hoping against hope that he might find some trace of Ricky. Everything seemed against him, the disappearance of the troubled and troublesome young man; the weather and the total lack of people out and about.
Finally, bored with his do nothing existence, Gary broke camp and rode into Hendersonville. It was still fire ravaged, a dull gray monospace, as all burned landscapes are. His dog ran around sniffing and exploring; finding nothing of interest in the dust and ashes.
He rode over by the hardware store, and looked in the basement. Whatever had been there was rusted in the weather driven years. He supposed that Mark had been back to collect anything of value; so he didn't go exploring.
The big fancy house they had lived in, had burned to the ground. the rusty hulks of the two huge refrigerators were tilted on their sides in the basement. Most of the barn had fallen to ruin, and when Gary looked inside, he found an old shovel leaning against the hand hewn timber that was the north east corner. He dismounted and picked up the shovel, his mind thinking about heading back down the hill to the lake.
Gary intended to rebury the bones that had been scattered by the raiders. After all Sam was there, and John, and he supposed Claire and a bunch of others. They deserved to rest in peace, so that became Gary's mission.
He dug one large grave and settled all the bones he could find. The stones he lined up along the uphill side and filled the hole. There was something satisfying about completing the disagreeable task and leaving the dead to their rest. Gary stood with his hat off and recited the only prayer he could remember, the 23 Psalm. He thought of Ma, how she went to the prayer the minute anything happened. It was a good solid feeling to be connected in that way, he supposed he'd better get back to the retreat. Gary hoped that Ma had felt the death of Ricky and had explained the scenario to Milo and Honey. He didn't fancy being the bearer of bad news.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Many thanks Pac for the chapters. Getting ready to can green beans here, after we picked, we washed, snapped, stuck in gallon bags and into the freezer. It was time to take them out and can up. So they are thawing and will be canned up.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#315
Clora and Tess had felt the death or disappearance of Ricky, but had not spoken of the situtation. It came to Clora that she might talk to Milo while he was laid up, and not needed for other duties.
Sending Robbie to fetch his Daddy was the easiest part of the 'talk.' Clora prayed for guidance, unsure how Milo would react to the death of his oldest, natural child. It was easy to remind Robbie to stay and guard the house and his mother, while Milo came for a talk. There was no need for Robbie to be involved in the discussion.
It took a while for Milo to climb the stairs to the lookout, and as Clora asked him to sit down, she never stopped scanning the compound for things out of place.
"I think I know why I'm here," Milo spoke with a heavy heart. "For some reason, I felt it the other night. I didn't want it to be true, but that doesn't change the fact that it happened. Honey knows, and she talked to me about the distrust she had with Ricky's behavior and the way he stared with hateful eyes at Mila. Ricky really scared Honey and of course she applied all her education parameters to his actions and concluded he was full of rage and dangerous." milo sounded defeated but accepting of the outcome.
"I believe Ricky was the last one," Clora said sadly. "All the rest of the first born's are gone. A terrible price to pay." she concluded with a heavy sigh.
"What about Gary?" Milo stood looking out through the slats that protected the watchers from being detected. "Is he next?"
"No children," Clora rubbed her eyes, she was still tired from the short nights sleep and perhaps the fact that she hadn't fully recovered from her last bout of rheumatic fever.
"Ma, why don't you go over to the main house and take a nap? Robbie can come help, in fact he was the one to suggest it when he came to get me. You look totally worn out." Milo was trying to be helpful, Ma really did look terrible.
Clora was sitting so still, Milo thought something was wrong. Then, he realized she had closed her eyes to relieve the strain and almost went to sleep.
"Go to bed," he ordered kindly. "I made arrangements with Robbie to come over if he saw you head for the house. He really is looking forward to having me all to himself, I'm afraid this life of ours is very hard on the children."
Clora nodded and then stared with fatigue at the stairs. She wasn't sure she had the energy to climb down the winding staircase. Milo went to help her, but Clora shook her head no, and pointed to the outside, reinforcing the fact Milo needed to stay on guard.
Milo's problem was solved when he saw Mark come around the corner and head to the barn apartment. Whistling 'come help', Milo put the problem on his Dad, where it belonged.
Mark didn't run up the stairs, but he was a good deal spryer than Clora. He folded his arm around her, and slowly backed down the stairs, intending to be a cushion for her, in case she fell.
Barely out the barn door, the duo headed for the house, and vigilant Robbie was already powering across the yard, headed to help his Dad.
The only way Mark could keep Clora from getting up and tending to more chores, was to get in bed and wrap her in a blanket. Clora yawned and went fast asleep. It took Mark longer to fall asleep, but it felt so good to rest with his beloved.
Clora and Tess had felt the death or disappearance of Ricky, but had not spoken of the situtation. It came to Clora that she might talk to Milo while he was laid up, and not needed for other duties.
Sending Robbie to fetch his Daddy was the easiest part of the 'talk.' Clora prayed for guidance, unsure how Milo would react to the death of his oldest, natural child. It was easy to remind Robbie to stay and guard the house and his mother, while Milo came for a talk. There was no need for Robbie to be involved in the discussion.
It took a while for Milo to climb the stairs to the lookout, and as Clora asked him to sit down, she never stopped scanning the compound for things out of place.
"I think I know why I'm here," Milo spoke with a heavy heart. "For some reason, I felt it the other night. I didn't want it to be true, but that doesn't change the fact that it happened. Honey knows, and she talked to me about the distrust she had with Ricky's behavior and the way he stared with hateful eyes at Mila. Ricky really scared Honey and of course she applied all her education parameters to his actions and concluded he was full of rage and dangerous." milo sounded defeated but accepting of the outcome.
"I believe Ricky was the last one," Clora said sadly. "All the rest of the first born's are gone. A terrible price to pay." she concluded with a heavy sigh.
"What about Gary?" Milo stood looking out through the slats that protected the watchers from being detected. "Is he next?"
"No children," Clora rubbed her eyes, she was still tired from the short nights sleep and perhaps the fact that she hadn't fully recovered from her last bout of rheumatic fever.
"Ma, why don't you go over to the main house and take a nap? Robbie can come help, in fact he was the one to suggest it when he came to get me. You look totally worn out." Milo was trying to be helpful, Ma really did look terrible.
Clora was sitting so still, Milo thought something was wrong. Then, he realized she had closed her eyes to relieve the strain and almost went to sleep.
"Go to bed," he ordered kindly. "I made arrangements with Robbie to come over if he saw you head for the house. He really is looking forward to having me all to himself, I'm afraid this life of ours is very hard on the children."
Clora nodded and then stared with fatigue at the stairs. She wasn't sure she had the energy to climb down the winding staircase. Milo went to help her, but Clora shook her head no, and pointed to the outside, reinforcing the fact Milo needed to stay on guard.
Milo's problem was solved when he saw Mark come around the corner and head to the barn apartment. Whistling 'come help', Milo put the problem on his Dad, where it belonged.
Mark didn't run up the stairs, but he was a good deal spryer than Clora. He folded his arm around her, and slowly backed down the stairs, intending to be a cushion for her, in case she fell.
Barely out the barn door, the duo headed for the house, and vigilant Robbie was already powering across the yard, headed to help his Dad.
The only way Mark could keep Clora from getting up and tending to more chores, was to get in bed and wrap her in a blanket. Clora yawned and went fast asleep. It took Mark longer to fall asleep, but it felt so good to rest with his beloved.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Powerful thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
WAB
the dancing with the devil part of the saga. There's always a price to pay.
the dancing with the devil part of the saga. There's always a price to pay.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
My VISIO finally crapped out but some of my scrawled notes lead me to think it initiated in the first 10-20 Chapters of So that Your Love May be Complete and the curse gets laid down by the end of that segment of the saga. I might be off a few chapters either way so some extra reading may be required but there's way worse things than that to spend a few hours on
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#316
Three weeks of hard, back breaking jolting travel brought the two wagons to the swift rushing waters in the Ohio River.
"You're sure this is the Ohio?" Jerry asked in tired defeat. "I was positive that we only had one large river to cross, the Kentucky; but," he said glumly, "it must be still ahead."
Donny sat easy in the saddle, tilted forward slightly to ease the strain on his healing scars. "There's a sign half as big as this wagon that points the way to the river and the ford. We have to travel inland for three days to get to it." Donny clammed up; it wasn't his fault that the river wasn't the one Jerry expected it to be; let the old man be more careful when he was reading the gol-durned map.
"No chance of fording it if we go straight ahead?" Wyatt asked from the wagon seat.
Donny shook his head no, "There are three swift channels between sand bars, nothing to hook a wagon too, mud and silt at least three feet thick on the sand bars, I'm saying it's impassable; especially for heavy wagons like ours. We can go straight ahead to the river, and you can see for yourselves, or we can cut off to the east and save a day's travel. Your call gentlemen."
Wyatt saved his breath and clucked to his team, pulled around Jerry and started down the track heading East. As the days wore on, Wyatt found himself feeling pressured to get to where Tess was, as quickly as possible. Every half hour delay festered his temper, so he needed to be on the move.
When they had surveyed the river, Chuck split to ride up toward the ford, and Donny went back to report to the wagons. Not quite a day out, he surprised a small herd of deer and harvested a doe. As he was tending to the butchering chores, he heard a very feminine sounding voice asking for permission to enter camp.
Looking up, he saw a old, fat half plow horse with two young boys riding. "Mister," the voice called out, "could we help you with the butchering, for the heart and liver?"
Chuck looked them over sternly and then nodded. They were offering help in exchange for the food, so they weren't helpless or freeloaders. The oldest of the two slid off the horse and went to the travois they were pulling for a long, sharp, wicked looking butcher knife.
"You mind that son," Chuck spoke gruffly, "I don't fancy me, or you, getting cut with that pig sticker."
"We're careful," The oldest said in a high voice, "our pap taught us well."
Chuck nodded, and kept to the opposite side of the deer. It was messy, skinning the hide off the doe laying on the ground. Chuck had looked, he bet there wasn't a tree tall enough to hang the carcass for fifty miles.
They worked in silence, the only sound was when Chuck cracked the knee bones to slip the hide from the front shoulders.
The two boys worked fast and with assurance, only stopping to ask if Chuck was going to use the leg bones.
"No, you kin hav'em if you want'em," was his reply and the bones were carefully moved back to a small tarp on the travois. It didn't take long for Chuck to have his skinned carcass wrapped in a tarp and strapped on the back of his horse.
"The rest of us are coming down this way,' he said indifferently. "If your still here, we'll share what we got left, when we get here."
The boy's nodded; and Chuck rode away, back toward the wagons.
Three weeks of hard, back breaking jolting travel brought the two wagons to the swift rushing waters in the Ohio River.
"You're sure this is the Ohio?" Jerry asked in tired defeat. "I was positive that we only had one large river to cross, the Kentucky; but," he said glumly, "it must be still ahead."
Donny sat easy in the saddle, tilted forward slightly to ease the strain on his healing scars. "There's a sign half as big as this wagon that points the way to the river and the ford. We have to travel inland for three days to get to it." Donny clammed up; it wasn't his fault that the river wasn't the one Jerry expected it to be; let the old man be more careful when he was reading the gol-durned map.
"No chance of fording it if we go straight ahead?" Wyatt asked from the wagon seat.
Donny shook his head no, "There are three swift channels between sand bars, nothing to hook a wagon too, mud and silt at least three feet thick on the sand bars, I'm saying it's impassable; especially for heavy wagons like ours. We can go straight ahead to the river, and you can see for yourselves, or we can cut off to the east and save a day's travel. Your call gentlemen."
Wyatt saved his breath and clucked to his team, pulled around Jerry and started down the track heading East. As the days wore on, Wyatt found himself feeling pressured to get to where Tess was, as quickly as possible. Every half hour delay festered his temper, so he needed to be on the move.
When they had surveyed the river, Chuck split to ride up toward the ford, and Donny went back to report to the wagons. Not quite a day out, he surprised a small herd of deer and harvested a doe. As he was tending to the butchering chores, he heard a very feminine sounding voice asking for permission to enter camp.
Looking up, he saw a old, fat half plow horse with two young boys riding. "Mister," the voice called out, "could we help you with the butchering, for the heart and liver?"
Chuck looked them over sternly and then nodded. They were offering help in exchange for the food, so they weren't helpless or freeloaders. The oldest of the two slid off the horse and went to the travois they were pulling for a long, sharp, wicked looking butcher knife.
"You mind that son," Chuck spoke gruffly, "I don't fancy me, or you, getting cut with that pig sticker."
"We're careful," The oldest said in a high voice, "our pap taught us well."
Chuck nodded, and kept to the opposite side of the deer. It was messy, skinning the hide off the doe laying on the ground. Chuck had looked, he bet there wasn't a tree tall enough to hang the carcass for fifty miles.
They worked in silence, the only sound was when Chuck cracked the knee bones to slip the hide from the front shoulders.
The two boys worked fast and with assurance, only stopping to ask if Chuck was going to use the leg bones.
"No, you kin hav'em if you want'em," was his reply and the bones were carefully moved back to a small tarp on the travois. It didn't take long for Chuck to have his skinned carcass wrapped in a tarp and strapped on the back of his horse.
"The rest of us are coming down this way,' he said indifferently. "If your still here, we'll share what we got left, when we get here."
The boy's nodded; and Chuck rode away, back toward the wagons.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac, again a big thank you lol.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Thank you!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#317
Clora slept the whole afternoon, the night and late into the next morning. The best part of her deep sleep, was the fact Mark slept right along with her.
Milo was keeping tabs on his parents, and twice had to run Tess away; she was all for getting Clora to help her with the triplets. Finally, Milo wasn't nice as he informed his sister where the bear ran through the buckwheat.
"You're their mother, take care of them yourself, you can't tell me you don't have the time or patience. You're running Ma ragged, use Dory as a babysitter, or better yet, get her to start school and get those kids busy. It won't hurt you to step up and be a full time mother; I understand it's a lot more fun to run around when Ma cares for the boys, but it's gotta stop."
Tess protested that she wasn't overworking Clora, and that Ma wanted to help care for the boys.
"Sure she does; she's the grandma, and cook, and laundress, and field hand, night duty guard, nurse/doctor, and she's an old woman with rheumatic fever. Do you think it's natural for a woman to sleep almost 24 hours around the clock?"
"Well, no."
" Then pack your fanny back to the apartment and care for your own kids. Learn to do what you have to do as you take care of them. Ma had to do it that way. Look at all the time Dad was gone and Ma was both parents to a whole herd of kids."
"Your right," Tess admitted quietly, "I can and will do better. Ma's just always there and it is easy to take advantage of her good nature. We really need to find a cook and handyman like Helga and Karl, Well, not exactly like them," she said with a grin; "I don't much fancy the problems they caused. There is someone coming that might fill the bill, but they are having difficulties."
"If they get here, they get here;" Milo was philosophical, "but in the mean time, we need to take care of both Ma and Dad. We are still expecting some sort of attack from the crazies we encountered on the road. That, and a matter of housekeeping we need to do on a second bunch of crazies that David and Scotty came from." Milo was shaking his head. "Get going Sis, I don't want us standing out here in the open."
Tess went walking off toward the barn, not quite stomping her feet in frustration and anger, but close.
"You two were pretty loud," Mark said neutrally from the door. "Weren't you a little harsh on her?"
"Nope, and I'm gonna tear a strip off you, if you don't insist Ma get more sleep and work less. we're all gonna have to step up and shoulder more responsibility." Milo forcefully replied. "Get some old clothes on, we've got hogs to butcher."
Clora slept the whole afternoon, the night and late into the next morning. The best part of her deep sleep, was the fact Mark slept right along with her.
Milo was keeping tabs on his parents, and twice had to run Tess away; she was all for getting Clora to help her with the triplets. Finally, Milo wasn't nice as he informed his sister where the bear ran through the buckwheat.
"You're their mother, take care of them yourself, you can't tell me you don't have the time or patience. You're running Ma ragged, use Dory as a babysitter, or better yet, get her to start school and get those kids busy. It won't hurt you to step up and be a full time mother; I understand it's a lot more fun to run around when Ma cares for the boys, but it's gotta stop."
Tess protested that she wasn't overworking Clora, and that Ma wanted to help care for the boys.
"Sure she does; she's the grandma, and cook, and laundress, and field hand, night duty guard, nurse/doctor, and she's an old woman with rheumatic fever. Do you think it's natural for a woman to sleep almost 24 hours around the clock?"
"Well, no."
" Then pack your fanny back to the apartment and care for your own kids. Learn to do what you have to do as you take care of them. Ma had to do it that way. Look at all the time Dad was gone and Ma was both parents to a whole herd of kids."
"Your right," Tess admitted quietly, "I can and will do better. Ma's just always there and it is easy to take advantage of her good nature. We really need to find a cook and handyman like Helga and Karl, Well, not exactly like them," she said with a grin; "I don't much fancy the problems they caused. There is someone coming that might fill the bill, but they are having difficulties."
"If they get here, they get here;" Milo was philosophical, "but in the mean time, we need to take care of both Ma and Dad. We are still expecting some sort of attack from the crazies we encountered on the road. That, and a matter of housekeeping we need to do on a second bunch of crazies that David and Scotty came from." Milo was shaking his head. "Get going Sis, I don't want us standing out here in the open."
Tess went walking off toward the barn, not quite stomping her feet in frustration and anger, but close.
"You two were pretty loud," Mark said neutrally from the door. "Weren't you a little harsh on her?"
"Nope, and I'm gonna tear a strip off you, if you don't insist Ma get more sleep and work less. we're all gonna have to step up and shoulder more responsibility." Milo forcefully replied. "Get some old clothes on, we've got hogs to butcher."