Little Joe by Sandra Neil Wallace Read Free Book Online Page A

Eli’s glove. He flinched as it bit into his sore hand. Eli stopped feeding the wire to Pa and pulled off his glove.
    “Still bleedin’?” Pa asked.
    Eli nodded and stroked the bandage to keep it from curling up. He shivered inside his jacket and put the glove back on. Digging his boots into the wheel marks once more, Eli tried to find traction, but the ridges of mud had frozen up.
    “It’ll callus up soon,” Pa said. “Rope burns always do. First they crack open, then they heal and harden up for good.”
    Eli followed the yellow high beams lighting up the fence posts. He tried to catch sight of Pa’s eyes, but they were blocked by the brim of Pa’s Chevy cap.
    Had Pa hardened up for good?
    Eli reached for the spool, not quite knowing what to say. “Little Joe came out of it okay,” he mumbled.
    Pa tugged at the top wire to see if it felt secure. “First thing in the morning, Eli, you get back in the barn and show that calf who’s boss.”
    Eli focused on the frosty billows of Pa’s breath as Pa picked up a rotted oak branch and threw it for Tater to fetch.
    “Have Ma wrap some gauze over your hand and you won’t feel a thing.”
    Eli watched the glints of silver wire coiling out from between his gloves, wondering why Pa hated cows so much. He’d been around them all his life, same as Eli, only they didn’t seem to make Pa happy. Eli always felt better knowing there were cattle around. He’d look out the window and there the cows were, chomping or sniffing. Coming off the school bus, he’d catch a glimpse of them huddled up beside the pines and out of the wind, blinking at him. Or he’d spot the tops of their backs, knowing that when he got closer, their chunky necks would be outstretched, skimming the grasses for food.
    Eli looked up and saw Ma in the stream of the pickup’s high beams, clutching her coat to her ribs. “Ned Kinderhoff called,” she said.
    Pa’s jaw tightened, but he kept twisting the wire around the post.
    “He wants you at the sawmill by six in the morning.”
    Pa jabbed the rim of his cap with his thumb. “He knows I won’t say no,” Pa mumbled.
    Ma came over and stood by Pa. “We need the money, Chet.” Ma lowered her voice, but Eli still heard. He knew all about Ned Kinderhoff. He grew pumpkins bigger than Pa’s and beat him out at the fair. Whenever they sat down to dinner without Pa, it was because of Ned Kinderhoff.
    “We’re all done here, Eli,” Pa said.
    Tater barked at Hannah running down the pasture, her mittens hanging from her neck. “Can I ride in the back of the truck with Tater and Eli, too, Pa?” Hannah asked.
    Pa nodded.
    “Come on, Tater.” Eli knew they were both in for a ride full of talking.
    “Can I mane-braid Little Joe’s tail, Eli? Now that I know how?”
    “No.”
    “How come? He’s your show animal.”
    “’Cause it’s not right. He’s a boy.”
    “Then I’ll mane-braid Fancy’s tail.”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “’Cause she needs it to take care of Little Joe and swish flies away. Go find yourself a unicorn.”
    Hannah went silent for a moment and looked up at thenight sky. Tater crouched down low and dug his head under Hannah’s mitten, looking for a belly rub or even just a scratch.
    “You have to believe in unicorns before they’ll show.” Hannah turned to face Eli. “And the
whole
family’s got to believe.”
    Eli wasn’t sure what he believed. He looked down at his glove and wondered if his sore hand would be ready by tomorrow. And if he really wanted it to be. He’d promised that nothing would happen to Little Joe. Now he’d gone and made the bull calf afraid and sent him fleeing clear across the pasture.
    “Unicorns can’t be tamed, either.” Hannah scratched the knuckle on Tater’s head. “Not like Tater. Or Little Joe.”
    Eli wasn’t really sure if Little Joe could be tamed.
    “Unless—” Hannah stuck the word right out in the air.
    “Unless what?” Eli asked.
    “Unless they’re absolutely