Meadowlarks Thomas Holladay (top 5 ebook reader .txt) 📖

years ago. It looked as fine today as it did back then.

Nason parked in front of the barn and climbed out. The barn door stood open a crack. Jim opened it wide from the inside, motioning for Nason to turn around and back up. He'd already positioned the double horse trailer, both horses already inside.

Nason got back into his truck and followed Jim’s hand signals, backing up until Embry held up his closed fist to stop. Nason climbed out and they hooked up the trailer.

Embry made sure Nason saw the thing. His old truck had been backed into one of the stalls with the hood up and a tarp thrown over one of the fenders. It was all for show. Embry’s truck was fine, not a tool in sight.

They climbed into Nason’s truck and Jim said, “You meet them new Potters yet?”

Nason drove slowly, pulling the trailer in a wide circle. “Jim, they just got in yesterday afternoon.”

Embry’s wife waved from their front porch.

Nason waved back. “Why did you need me to come out here?”

“I told you, my truck’s on the fritz.”

Nason knew better.

Jim knew he knew. “I didn’t want to go over there by myself. I never met these Potters before.”

“Neither have I.” Nason drove downhill, keeping drag on the loaded trailer. “You had no problem picking these horses up after Kidro was taken.”

“Ah, I didn’t want Gilpin sneaking over there to grab the stallion.” Jim got right back on subject. “So, have you heard anything about them?”

“Not yet.” Nason changed the subject. “How’s the old man?”

"Same-o, same-o.” Embry settled back for the ride. “He complains all day about never going anywhere.” He smiled and shook his head. “You couldn’t drag him out of that house with this truck and both horses.”

Early sunshine on Embry’s slope highlighted small patches of green grass mixed with purple blooming sagebrush and scattered dandelion, beautiful.

Embry couldn’t help himself, getting back to it. “Wonder what these new Potters are like. The twins have been asking all morning.”

“Gosh, Jim, your boys aren’t asking stupid questions, are they? I wonder where they’d get that from.”

“Bite my jumbo.”

Nason turned onto River Road and accelerated toward the Potter place.

“Think they’ll be up yet?”

“Don’t know, Jim.”

“Think they’ll reopen the mine?”

“I hope not. Can’t help thinking that’s why Kidro was taken.”

“Thought you blamed Gilpin.”

“That too.” Nason slowed near the end of River Road and turned up Potter's cobblestone driveway.

BARNABAS GROWLED AND jumped off the bed, stirring Jason, barely awake. When the dog scrambled onto the table between the beds, Jason sat up. Barnabas growled again, propped his front paws on the window sill and opened the curtain with his nose, craning toward the driveway.

“What’s up?”

Barnabas snorted and bumped the glass with his nose. He wanted to go outside.

Jason got up and looked out but only saw the upper meadow, the trees and the driveway, nothing unusual.

Barnabas shook all over, whining and grumbling, sensing something.

Jason dressed quickly and hurried downstairs.

Barnabas already waited at the plywood door, quivering and whimpering, looking at Jason, telling Jason to hurry up.

Jason unhooked and opened the plywood door.

Barnabas bolted out, rushed down the front steps and charged toward the barn.

The blast of cold air caused Jason to grab his jacket from the rack. He pulled it on and hurried after his dog.

A stocky man stood behind a truck and a round-topped trailer down near the barn.

A skinnier man backed a horse down a ramp from the trailer.

Neither of them saw Barnabas, charging straight at them. When the dog growled and barked, charging in and out, the horse bolted sideways off the ramp, jumped onto the cobblestone paving and reared. The man holding the horse let go of the reigns and jumped into the trailer, out of sight.

The other man pulled a gun and tried to aim it at Barnabas but the dog was too fast, lunging in and out, growling and barking at the horse’s feet.

“Barnabas, NO!”

Barnabas stopped under the horse and crouched, looking at Jason.

Jason ran as fast as he could, too late.

The horse flooded steaming green pee over his dog’s head and back.

Barnabas bolted backwards and barked like crazy, but he'd stopped charging.

The stocky man pointed his gun at Barnabas.

“Don’t shoot him, mister. He won’t bite.”

The man grinned and lowered his gun, letting it hang at arm’s length. He thumbed the hammer, lowering it slowly.

The skinny man inside the trailer poked his head out, watching Jason approach.

The bigger man said, “Crap your pants, Embry?”

The man in the trailer laughed a little, relieved.

“You must be Jason Potter.” The heavier man holstered his gun and fastened a safety strap. He wore a small badge on his pistol belt and a larger badge on the front of his tan cowboy hat, a real lawman.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m Sheriff Phil Nason. This is Jim Embry.” The sheriff smiled at the skinnier man who kept both eyes on Barnabas.

Barnabas was quiet now, leaning into Jason’s legs, stinking like pee.

“Just come to bring your horses,” said the skinny man, taking off his hat and holding it at arm’s length, a shield between himself and Barnabas.

“We have horses?”

“This here’s Stoner.” The skinny man put his hat on, jumped to the ground and grabbed the horse’s reigns. “He’s got some thoroughbred.” He led the large, mostly black horse toward the barn, looking back at Jason, nodding toward the trailer. “Other one’s Dandy.” A smaller, brown and white horse was still in the trailer. “She’s a pinto mare. I’ve been looking after them since Kidro . . .”

“Yeah,” the sheriff interrupted, putting his hat on, staring at his friend, telling him to shut up. He smiled at Jason, “When we heard you’d arrived, we thought we’d bring them over. Hope it’s not too early.”

“What’s going on?” Jason’s mom hurried down from the house in her new blue jeans and a long sleeved shirt, arms folded against the chill.

“Hi, Mom.” Jason extended his hand toward the two men. “This is the sheriff and his friend. They brought our horses.”

“Horses?” She shook her head apologetically