Bill Dugan_War Chiefs 04 by Quanah Parker Read Free Book Online Page B

too, does she?”
    “I don’t reckon I ever discussed it with her, to tell you the truth.”
    “Maybe you ought to. You men are all alike. You see what you want to see, and the rest of it might as well not even be there. A lot of foolishness, I think.”
    “Those are some pretty hard words, Granny,” Parker said. “I don’t think Hiram come out here to get a lecture from you
or
me. I figure he’s got some work to do, and we ought to let him get to it.”
    Frost grinned. “From the looks of that sun, John, I don’t think I’d mind listening to Granny all day long, if it meant I could stay in the shade to do it.”
    Parker smiled. “You underestimate her. Granny can flay a whole herd of cows when she gets that tongue of hers to flappin’.”
    “You hush up, John Parker,” she said, snapping his leg with one tail of her apron. “I was just saying what was on my mind, is all. I’m a little scared. It doesn’t seem like to me that the Indians around here have much use for us. Seems like to me they’d as soon see us under the ground as tilling it, if you ask me.”
    “Now, you know that’s not true, Granny. They’ve been friendly enough.”
    “The two or three we ever see, maybe. But what about the rest of them? Why do you think they haven’t been here pounding on the gate to get in? Did you ever stop and think that maybe they aren’t particularly interested in the white man’s God? ‘Cause it sure has occurred to me. More than once.”
    “You have to have faith in the Lord, Granny,” Hiram Hardee said.
    “I have all the faith I need, thank you, Hiram. I just don’t see that it’s made a whole lot of difference to the Comanche, is all.”
    “That’ll change. You just wait, Mrs. Parker. They’ll come around.”
    “There isn’t anything else to do here
except
wait, Hiram. So, I suppose I’ll have to do that. But I don’t have to feel good about it. Or do I?” She turned when she heard a familiar voice calling to her.
    “Granny, Granny!”
    It was her granddaughter, Cynthia Ann, who came racing toward her, followed in succession by her grandson, John, and her son, Benjamin. Cynthia Ann’s little legs were pumping as she dashed across the open plain of the compound, a rag doll flopping in one hand, its arms and legs flailing every which way as it dangled just above the ground.
    The woman got down on her knees to take the onslaught, and Cynthia Ann hurled herself intoher grandmother’s arms, followed almost immediately by little John.
    “What are you children doing out here?” she scolded. “You know you shouldn’t be out of the gate like this.”
    Benjamin smiled. He was holding a musket, and brandished it with a certain pride. “My turn to watch the gate, Mother,” he said. “I told them they could come out to see you.”
    “We’d better get to work,” Hiram said. “The sooner we get finished, the sooner we can get inside and out of this infernal sun.”
    Granny straightened up, then took the children by the hand, and started back toward the house. “You come on with me, now. You can keep me company on the porch. I’ve got peas to shell. If you’re good, you can help. You’ll see your Uncle Ben later on.”
    “I can’t shell peas,” young John said. “I don’t know how to shell peas.”
    “Sure you can, Johnny,” Granny said. “You just watch me, and you’ll catch on in no time. You’re already five years old. ‘Bout time you started earning your keep.”
    She was teasing, but the boy looked uncertain. Turning to Cynthia Ann, she asked, “What do you think, Cynthia? Shall we teach your brother how to shell peas?”
    Cynthia Ann, at nine, was rather self-assured. “I already know, even if he doesn’t,” she said. “I can do it better than anybody.”
    Elder John followed in their wake, nodding toPeter Wilhelm and David Jason, two more of the members of their small community. “Going to be hot out there. You boys ought to bring some extra water along today,” he