Renewal 8 - War Council Read Online Free PDF

how to do the work in enthusiastic demonstrations, and the boys picked it up quickly. They spent the days competing for the best of whatever they were doing.
    Our hay wagon was unloaded and parked in the hay barn, which was more barn than hay. Sally wanted to collect hay from her pastures, but Dad was more inclined to recover the hay from George’s farm, since it was already baled and would rot if it wasn’t used that year, or the next. The only problem was the proximity of George’s farm to Eugene Curfman’s camp. So, the argument continued until Mom put her foot down one day over lunch.
    “David. You’ve got two choices. Either start bringing George’s hay, or start cutting Sally’s. One way or another, we have to fill that hay barn and there may only be days left to do it. If a single one of these animals dies because of a lack of hay, your winter is going to be a heck of a lot colder. You get me?”
    “Yes, yes. I get you, Beth.” Dad said with irritation. “Arturo and I will go take a look right now... To see if it’s safe.”
    “Good. Go. Now.”
    “Yes, dear. Already gone.” Dad rolled his eyes at Arturo and they slunk out the door.
    The sound of the struggling station wagon had faded into the distance for less than ten minutes when Bear began barking. It wasn’t his conversational bark. It was a warning. He yanked the front door open with his uncanny dexterity and sprinted away fast enough that it seemed to pull the air in the room behind the huge Mastiff. Sally collected her shotgun, never more than five paces away, and checked to make sure that both barrels were loaded. She snapped the breach shut and headed out the front door behind her canine friend. Kirk was right behind her with his automatic and his ever-present modified cane knife. The rest of us were slower. Lucy collected the young boys and headed for the barn. Mom and I grabbed our weapons and trotted out to catch up with Sally.
    By the time we arrived the crisis was over. Sally was waving at the man who walked slowly up the road, and Bear was prancing next to the stranger who wasn’t a stranger at all.
    “Why, Joe Miller! I was beginning to wonder if you forgot how pretty I am, “Sally called waving in a girlish way.
    “Hey, Sally. Sorry, I’ve been under the weather,” Joe called back. That’s when it became clear that he was still quite ill. His voice was wet and hoarse, and sure enough, his call turned into a hacking cough.
    “Hold on, Joe. I’ll be right back.” Sally ran to the house.
    Joe looked at us and said, “I’m guessing that you’re the folks from up at Sam’s place.”
    Mom looked at him suspiciously. “No. We were at the Carroll’s place until recently. Until we were run out.”
    “That’s why I’m here,” Joe said, nodding and swallowing rapidly. “I had a visit from a fellow named Eugene this morning. Said he was looking for a family from up at George’s farm. He didn’t know whose farm it was, but from the description, couldn’t be anyone else.”
    “You said Sam,” Mom said.
    “Just testing. I figure if you know where you were, then you had an invite.”
    Mom eyes filled with tears up as she remembered. “They were good to us. We lived on their back forty until the weather turned cold. Then we spent the winter in the barn. George and Martha were with us. They couldn’t stay warm in the house.”
    “Were?”
    “They died around the end of January. Martha passed away and George followed her a few days later.”
    “Thought about giving up a few times myself...” Joe said quietly.
    “Maybe the worst is over,” Mom said, nurturing instincts kicking in.
    “Maybe. Anyway, those boys are looking for you something terrible. Said they’d be back and start burning places until someone gave you up.”
    “Oh, my goodness. Maybe we should go. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
    “ ’Scuze my French, but those boys are assholes. Maybe you should fight.” He looked around. “From the