A Certain Kind of Hero by Kathleen Eagle Read Free Book Online Page A

gave Peter a shoulder slap of approval. “Now take him off the hook and throw him back.”
    Peter looked up in near horror. “Throw him back? ”
    â€œWe’re fishing for supper for the four of us.” Gideon appraised the small wriggling crappie that Peter had just pulled proudly from the water. “That’s guy’s not worth bothering with. We want nice, pan-sized—”
    â€œGideon, I think that’s a wonderful fish!” Raina sharpened her bright tone with a defensive edge. “A beautiful fish. I think we should have it stuffed and mounted.”
    â€œThis isn’t like bronzing his baby shoes, Raina. We’re looking for food.” He nodded toward the cooler containing the fish Oscar had already caught. “Right, Pete?”
    â€œI guess so.” Peter looked at his catch again. “He’s too small, huh?”
    Those motherly instincts would not rest. A quick justification tingled on the tip of Raina’s tongue.
    But Gideon headed her off with a warning glance. “Put him down in the water and see if he’s gonna make it. We don’t return dead fish to the lake.”
    Peter complied, his face brightening when, revived by thewater, the little fish flipped its tail and swam away. “There, see?” Gideon watched the boy’s first catch in six years head out to the middle of the lake. He promised himself it wouldn’t be the last one for this season. Not by a long shot. “He’s a survivor, like us. If we catch you next year, brother fish, you’ll make a fine meal.”
    They dropped their lines again. Once Peter had caught a pan-worthy fish, Gideon put in at the public boat landing, where he would take his boat out of the water. There was no one else waiting to use the boat ramp, and his pickup and trailer were parked in the public parking lot. Soon he would be cooking up a meal for Raina and the boys. Soon he would be able to show her that he had a little place of his own now. He’d been looking forward to this day for a long time.
    Gideon cut the motor, while Oscar took up his assigned post in the bow and prepared to catch a mooring. As the boat drifted toward the dock, Gideon smelled trouble. The odor came from the four young men who were hanging out right where Gideon planned to step ashore. The signs were all there—the four accusatory stares, the folded arms, the set of the jaws. The gist of the quick comments passed among them was easily interpreted visually—Gideon didn’t need to hear those words. He had heard it all before.
    â€œI’ll tie her up, Oscar,” Gideon said quietly.
    But it was too late to switch places. “I’ve got it,” Oscar muttered, reaching for a piling as the boat drifted in to the dock.
    They could have been ordinary boaters or fishermen—and most days they probably were. They sure didn’t look like anybody’s idea of a gang, but the tough-kid posturing was there—the insolence, the confidence in bully power.
    The first man to speak wore a Redskins T-shirt. “You got any illegal nets in there, chief?”
    â€œDo you know who you’re talking to?” Oscar looked up, scowling as he slipped the nylon rope around the post. “He is the chief.”
    â€œI don’t give a damn if he’s Tonto himself,” the man said as he adjusted the bill of his Twins cap. “You guys out spearing fish today?”
    â€œNobody’s spearing any fish.” Gideon grabbed the piling, planted one foot on the dock and rose to tower over the gang’s spokesman.
    â€œOh, yeah? So you claim.” The man stepped back, his friends covering his flanks as he jabbed a finger at Gideon. “You guys better drop this little plan to get special privileges for yourselves. There’s no way you’re gonna start netting and spearing in these waters. The sports fishermen in this state won’t stand for it.”
    â€œYou’re