Explaining Herself Read Online Free PDF

rest of the posse arrived and negotiated his safe passage to jail. The Big Horn Mountains would see no more vigilante justice that night.
    The twelve-year-old outlaw, formerly known as Ross, is actually named Drazen Lauranovic. He is being held in the town jail for cattle rustling and attempted murder. The head rustler, Mr. Lauranovic, is also survived by a widow and one daughter.
    Boris Ward, whose only crime was protecting his livelihood, is not expected to live through the week. There will be a prayer service for him at the church tonight as the town unites in its support of this well-respected member of the community.
    Laramie wasn't sure at what point he stopped reading the article and instead began to stare across the room. He was remembering that little box-canyon in the pale light of a full moon, the hiding place for all that stolen stock. He was seeing the Lost Pines brand on the hip of a rangy longhorn in front of him, smell ing acrid, burning hair as he used a wet piece of wool blanket to blot the changed brand back to his family's own Double Mountain mark. He'd felt angry that night, at the Wards' blatant theft of his family's cattle and at Sheriff Howe for doing nothing about it. And he'd been uneasy because his older sister had wheedled him into describing their hideout. Julie had been acting oddly for some time, confiding to him that she was in love with a man who would, she said, put them in a big house, buy her pretty clothes, "make everything better."
    As if Ross had cared about love and such. He'd cared only about getting their cattle back. But it had been important to her.
    He heard a rock skitter down the arroyo wall, heard Deputy Butler demanding that Ross drop the hot iron and step away from the steer. Then he'd felt afraid.
    Ross hadn't known what to do until his poppa gently repeated the deputy's request. "Do what they tell you, Drazen," Poppa had murmured, calm and clever even yet. "This is America. The truth will come out at our trial. Look at all our proof."
    So Ross had obeyed. He'd dropped the running iron and backed away from the fire until a large man grabbed him and twisted his arms behind his back. When he'd cried out, his older brother had tried to lunge to his rescue, but two more men grabbed him. More of them aimed guns at Poppa as they stepped nearer, pawing him. As if Ross's poppa would hide weapons!
    It was Boris Ward, the rancher who'd been stealing their cattle all along, who said, "Stupid Bohunks. What makes you think you deserve a trial?"
    Only then did Ross notice the rope being slung over a tree branch. At that moment it seemed as if not just a handful of men but all of Sheridan, all of Wyoming, all of the United States of America, had turned against them.
     
    * * *
     
    Laramie blinked, startled from his memories by... a woman? Victoria Garrison was watching him from across the room, her head cocked in concern.
    How long had she been doing that without him knowing it? Would he have returned to himself if she'd approached, or were the memories destroying even his long-developed survival instincts?
    As his eyes focused on her and the present once more, she mouthed, Are you all right?
    It was the second time she'd asked that. How long had it been since anyone cared if he was "all right"? Not since he'd watched his life destroyed. And now, if he had to —
    No, he would not imagine destroying her happy world while remembering the end of his. Instead he blinked, then nodded at her. He did not try to smile.
    She looked unconvinced, but turned back to her work.
    Laramie cupped his jaw with a hand, leaned on his good elbow, and knew he hadn't been all right in years. He'd watched his father and brother bound, watched them pushed up onto horses, watched the nooses draped over their heads, first Poppa, then Phil. He'd screamed and screamed, sometimes words, sometimes sheer anguish, but the posse had not stopped. He'd watched the horses bolt and the bodies drop; watched his father and