Dances Naked Read Online Free PDF Page A

admiring its progress as he approached the house. A smug grin of satisfaction settled on his face as he replaced the hoe into the tool rack. He had to set a good example for Jenny. She was easily distracted and tended to go from one task to another before cleaning up after herself. He had moved the tool rack down two feet lower just so she could reach it without a stool. It was hard to believe that she had been in their lives for less than two weeks. She had fit in with all of them from the very beginning, the thumb in the glove of his family.
    Suddenly he heard an unfamiliar so und. It was a man coughing— a hoarse, rattling cough that ended with a wet sounding discharge. He looked over at the source of the noise. Next to the barn was a gangly stranger, his hands busy as he walked along the north wall, picking up the nesting boxes, peering under and around each one , and then setting it back down. The raggedy man was unknown to him and was being a bit too familiar with his investigation of the Pomeroy property. Neighbors and travelers always approached the house and announced themselves before going to the barn. He tried his best not to judge a person, ever, but especially not before speaking with him. But , he didn’t like this man. There was something sinister and uncomfortable about him.
    Wallace walked toward the barn and the stranger. He looked back toward the house to verify that his little family was safe. He saw Jenny holding Wren and Evie with another bab y. What? That wasn’t his child— it was too big. Or rather , it was too long. His babies were shorter but nice and round and filled out. This one was scrawny and had a ve ry red face. Oh, there she was— the other mother. A sad faced young woman, very pregnant and obviously tired, was leaning against the doorway. Sarah was tending to the kitchen fire. By the scowl on her face , it looked she was getting ready to get busy. The snooping man must be part of that little family. Regardless whether or not he liked the looks of the man and his nosy attitude, his own sense of propriety dictated that an introduction was in order.
    Wallace walked over to the man who was now inside the barn, lifting a coil of rope off the wooden peg. He stuck out his hand and introduced himself, “Hello, I’m Wallace Pomeroy-Hart. May I help you?”
    The scruffy man looked down at the offered hand then back up at Wallace. “Do you live here?” he asked, foregoing the handshake and ignoring the question.
    Wallace brought his hand back to his side, surreptitiously wiping his palm on his pants. The proximity of the man made him feel dirty. But , Wallace wasn’t a small man in any respect. He would turn the other cheek at the man’s snub. He pu lled himself up to his full six foot five inch height and answered the man. “This place belongs to my father and his family. I live here as does my wife, four children, father , and mother-in-law. What business do you have here, sir? ”
    The man looked up at Wallace, squinted one eye and snorted, “Hmph,” then walked outside, once again dismissing Wallace’s question by ignoring it.
    The man’s attitude was one Wallace had never encountered. It was more than rude and beyond disrespectful. And , this man obviously didn’t have an ounce of courtesy or respect for another person’s property , either. Now he was walking over to the grain storage shack. “Excuse me, sir,” he called after the nameless stranger. “There’s nothing in there for you.”
    “Maybe there is and maybe there isn’t,” sneered the man. He grabbed the crossbar and jerked on it, trying to pull it out of its brackets. Wallace leaned back against the fence post and grinned. The man didn’t know about the locking pins , hidden on the bottom of the supports. No Name spat on his hands and tried again, grunting and sweating more and more with each attempt. Wallace sighed loudly , but didn’t say anything. “Well, it’s the wrong time of year for the whisky