Borderland by S. K. Epperson Read Free Book Online

deep breath and forced himself to sit up. "I don't know what it means,
honey. But I guess we'll find out. Let's go, Nolan."
     
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
     
     
    Myra yawned as she tossed the last of the bloodied cleaning
rags into her washer. She hadn't slept well in Darwin 's bed last night. Cal hadn't slept much either. Sounds in the house and a
post-traumatic wariness kept both of them wide-eyed and restless. At one point
she could have sworn she heard a woman scream, but when she looked at Cal he appeared to have
heard nothing. Myra chalked it up to her imagination and blocked her ears to
the scrapes, creaks, and groans of the sixty-year-old house. It was the first time
either of them had spent the night in Darwin 's home and both hoped it would be the last.
    The
cleaning of their mobile home had taken most of the day. The goat's remains
were placed in a trash barrel by the barn and burned. Cal had done most of the
grisly work concerning the removal of entrails and organs. The boy often hunted
game with Darwin and the sight of dead things didn't affect him as it did Myra . She couldn't
handle it. The expression in the eyes always got to her.
    She
poured in the detergent and was ready to start the washer when she heard a
shout from Cal .
Without hesitation she drew the pistol from the waistband of her jean shorts
and flew toward the door. She burst outside to see Cal holding the shotgun
on two men in a dirty white convertible. The men did not look happy. As she
neared the car she spied two dark-haired little girls in the back seat, Darwin 's granddaughters.
    "Cal,
its Mr. Kimmler."
    Cal glanced at her. "Are you sure?"
    The driver
was out of the car and had the shotgun in his bandaged hands before either Cal or Myra could move.
    "I
ought to beat your ass with this thing, kid," he said to Cal. "I'd ask you
where you learned your manners, but I can see for myself."
    Myra stepped forward and the bandaged hand shot out once more
to relieve her of the pistol. The driver tossed it to the man in the car, who
caught it with one hand. He shoved it in his waistband and climbed out of the
car.
    "Who
do you think you are, lady?"
    "I'm
Myra Callahan," she said nervously. "And this is my son, Cal. Are you
Vic Kimmler?"
    "Yes,
I am, and I hope you've got a damn good reason for making a snot-nosed kid
stand guard with a shotgun."
    "I'm
thirteen," Cal said defiantly. "And she didn't make me do anything.
I was—"
    " Cal ." Myra put a hand on his
shoulder. "We have to talk, Mr. Kimmler."
    "You
got that right. You've got a lot of explaining to do."
    Myra bristled at his tone. "Look, I'm sorry about the
guns, but if you'll just calm down I'll explain. There's no reason to be
so—"
    "I've
got plenty of reasons," Kimmler interrupted. "And they start with the
rumor that my father's horses have all disappeared since his death."
    "They
didn't disappear," Cal said. "They were stolen."
    Myra was frowning. "Who told you, Mr. Kimmler?"
    Before
Vic could answer, Andy stood up in the back seat. "Daddy, I have to go.
Can we get out?"
    The
blond man looked at her and groaned. "Andy, I've asked you not to stand up
in the seat, dammit." He handed the shotgun to Kimmler and went to lift
the little girl out of the car. The other girl climbed over the door and stood
looking at Myra .
"She looks like you, Uncle Nolan."
    Myra raised a brow and looked closer at him. He met her gaze
and deliberately let his travel from her dusty bare feet to the skin revealed
by the low cut of her cotton top.
    She
pegged him in a second. Arrogance and confidence oozed from his pores. He was a
player with an attitude and an ego as big as Texas . She knew the type. She had been married to one just like
him.
    Darwin 's son was of more interest to her at the moment. Vic
Kimmler had his father's dark, probing eyes and tall, angular frame. He also
had Darwin 's
patient, forgiving mouth, which made her feel suddenly comfortable in spite of
his display of animosity toward her.
    As