Thistle and Twigg by Mary Saums Read Free Book Online Page A

jutting rock beds and white-capping before rolling out of view. I could see combines in the distance throwing dust up in their wakes, and beyond them, pastures with horses and cows.
    “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” I said feeling truly overwhelmed. I turned around toward Cal and the forest behind him when I was struck by a different beauty. Surely most people would say I was daft, that the sight of a poorly groomed, derelict-looking old man and his dog of mixed parentage was a beautiful one.
    But I tell you, it was. The outward gaze of a man who, according to Vince Murphy was considered “no count” by the locals, held much dignity in this place where he was able to be his true self. His dark eyes glinted as he stood surveying what was his but not his, merely his charge for one short lifetime. Nothing so grand comes without sacrifice. Cal had given up friends, comforts, and to a large extent, community respect that might have been his otherwise. What more, I wondered, to keep this sacred promise of the land’s stewardship to family and to nature?
    Homer moved to Cal’s side and sat, blinking his contentment as he, too, looked out over the bluff. Cal leaned down and rested his gnarled fingers between the Lab’s ears. A breeze blew past and rustled in the trees behind us.
    “I had a son,” Cal said softly. He paused a moment, then said. “He was killed in Vietnam.” Homer nuzzled the hand that petted him and inched closer. “My wife died not long after.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “There’s nobody else. Just me and Homer. And my time is coming on soon. I’m getting too old to keep fighting.”
    His choice of words mystified me but I didn’t interrupt. I assumed he meant his health problems were getting to be too much of a burden. His chest rattled. He had a dreadful pallor in his face. Several times during our walk, he had a coughing spell.
    We walked for perhaps another thirty minutes with Cal showing me so many beautiful paths. ‘That way,” he said, “is where we’re headed.” I followed the direction of his crooked finger. “That stream is the same one we crossed in the field near the house. It goes right into the heart of
Tsaluyi Udelida.
The ceremonial hall.
Danitaga.”
    In the distance, I could see two very large boulders standing about two hundred yards away toward the center of the wood. A gap of perhaps three feet separated them giving the look of a grand entrance to an ancient temple.
    On the way to the huge boulders, we had stopped to watch two squirrels chase each other across the leaf floor when suddenly a noise in the woods jerked Cal’s attention away. Homer looked as well, then followed his master’s example, holding still and hardly breathing.
    “I don’t like the sound of that,” Cal said in quiet, even tones. “Don’t like it at all. I’m sorry, Miz Jane, but I believe it would be better if you weren’t here right now.” He moved his shotgun up slowly. A few more moments of silence passed. Cal nodded his head ever so slightly. “That path will take you straight back to the main road. It’s not far.”
    “Don’t apologize,” I whispered. “I’m perfectly content to wait until later to see more.” I glanced around us but saw nothing. “Do be careful, dear.”
    “Don’t worry about us,” he said solemnly, then changed his worried frown to a big smile. “Me and Homer may just catch us a little supper.”
    With a nod, I raised my hand in good-bye and left them to their prey.
    It had been an act, of course. Had he lied to protect me? Perhaps there were animals here more dangerous than I knew. I quickened my pace down the road. It would be some days before I encountered them, creatures more deadly than I could imagine that first day in the woods.

seven
Jane Gets a Proposition
    A fter my morning trip to Cal’s, I spent the rest of the day cleaning, unpacking, and running errands. I was exhausted by nightfall. I sat the last dish from supper into the drying