Warden Read Online Free PDF
Author: Kevin Hardman
all managed to snare local grooms, a turn of events that Errol attributed to the fact that the Beverly women never took “no” for an answer.
Thus, it should have come as no great surprise to him that - around dusk of that fourth day - a horse and rider came trotting determinedly up the path to the Station House just as he was about to have dinner. The dining table actually sat in front of a window that gave a clear view of the path approaching the house. Although the sun was setting fast, there was still enough light left for him to make out that the rider was female, wearing a light blue blouse and brown trousers. As she got closer, he could see that she had red hair, a telltale indicator that the rider was one of the Beverly girls.
Not good , Errol thought, suddenly all too aware of how his messages had probably been received by the Beverlys.
The rider stopped her horse at the front porch and swung out of the saddle with practiced ease. It was Gale, one of the middle daughters (although the eldest still at home since her older sisters had married). At seventeen, she was a year older than Errol and rather tall for a girl - just a few inches shy of Errol’s own six-foot frame - with a shapely figure and clear, smooth skin. The fiery red of her hair (another thing inherited from her mother) was offset by the calm, clear blue of her eyes. All in all, she would have been quite pretty - perhaps even beautiful - if her features were not permanently marked by a perpetual scowl.
Surprisingly, that scowl was not on her face as she burst into the room, without knocking, like a tempest in search of something to destroy.
“Good evening,” she said, smiling sweetly as she closed the door. “I take it the Warden still hasn’t returned yet?”
Errol, in the midst of raising his fork to his mouth, paused to answer. “No, not yet. Like I said, I’ll tell him to come as soon as he gets back.” He then went back to eating, barely sparing Gale a glance.
“Well, I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “I see now that I’ve obviously interrupted your supper. What exactly are you having this evening?”
“Chicken in broth,” he responded irritably, “with wild rice and bread.”
“Sounds delicious,” she said. Then, without warning, she leaned forward and snatched the plate off the table.
“Hey!” Errol screamed, jumping up. Gale, paying him no mind, turned around and opened the door - and flung the plate outside into the dirt.
“Are you crazy???!!” Errol exploded. “What the hell is wrong with you???!!!”
“Me?!” Gale retorted, slamming the door shut. “You’re the one sitting there gorging yourself like a hog instead of doing your duty!”
“What duty? I’m not the Warden. Riding out to your farm is Tom’s job, not mine.”
“Not your job? Well, you sure do act like it’s your job when it suits you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you live in the house built for the Warden. You ride horses provided for the Warden. You eat the food cooked for the Warden. It sounds like you want all of the perks of the job but none of the responsibility.”
Her words stung Errol somewhat. He had never considered the possibility that people would actually want him taking action when Tom wasn’t around. The ramifications shocked him.
“So,” Gale continued, “if you aren’t going to take the post seriously, you should move on to something else, and the people of this town can go to supporting a single person at this Station House - cooking for just one, providing necessities for just one…Good Lord!!!”
Her sudden change of tone snapped Errol out of his reverie. Gale had gone pale and bug-eyed, as well as placing a hand over her heart. Errol followed her gaze to the window, where he caught a quick glimpse of something…horrid. Ruinous, desiccated flesh clung lazily to a nightmarish, skeletal face. Small wisps of gray-white hair hung in random clumps from a dome-shaped
Thus, it should have come as no great surprise to him that - around dusk of that fourth day - a horse and rider came trotting determinedly up the path to the Station House just as he was about to have dinner. The dining table actually sat in front of a window that gave a clear view of the path approaching the house. Although the sun was setting fast, there was still enough light left for him to make out that the rider was female, wearing a light blue blouse and brown trousers. As she got closer, he could see that she had red hair, a telltale indicator that the rider was one of the Beverly girls.
Not good , Errol thought, suddenly all too aware of how his messages had probably been received by the Beverlys.
The rider stopped her horse at the front porch and swung out of the saddle with practiced ease. It was Gale, one of the middle daughters (although the eldest still at home since her older sisters had married). At seventeen, she was a year older than Errol and rather tall for a girl - just a few inches shy of Errol’s own six-foot frame - with a shapely figure and clear, smooth skin. The fiery red of her hair (another thing inherited from her mother) was offset by the calm, clear blue of her eyes. All in all, she would have been quite pretty - perhaps even beautiful - if her features were not permanently marked by a perpetual scowl.
Surprisingly, that scowl was not on her face as she burst into the room, without knocking, like a tempest in search of something to destroy.
“Good evening,” she said, smiling sweetly as she closed the door. “I take it the Warden still hasn’t returned yet?”
Errol, in the midst of raising his fork to his mouth, paused to answer. “No, not yet. Like I said, I’ll tell him to come as soon as he gets back.” He then went back to eating, barely sparing Gale a glance.
“Well, I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “I see now that I’ve obviously interrupted your supper. What exactly are you having this evening?”
“Chicken in broth,” he responded irritably, “with wild rice and bread.”
“Sounds delicious,” she said. Then, without warning, she leaned forward and snatched the plate off the table.
“Hey!” Errol screamed, jumping up. Gale, paying him no mind, turned around and opened the door - and flung the plate outside into the dirt.
“Are you crazy???!!” Errol exploded. “What the hell is wrong with you???!!!”
“Me?!” Gale retorted, slamming the door shut. “You’re the one sitting there gorging yourself like a hog instead of doing your duty!”
“What duty? I’m not the Warden. Riding out to your farm is Tom’s job, not mine.”
“Not your job? Well, you sure do act like it’s your job when it suits you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you live in the house built for the Warden. You ride horses provided for the Warden. You eat the food cooked for the Warden. It sounds like you want all of the perks of the job but none of the responsibility.”
Her words stung Errol somewhat. He had never considered the possibility that people would actually want him taking action when Tom wasn’t around. The ramifications shocked him.
“So,” Gale continued, “if you aren’t going to take the post seriously, you should move on to something else, and the people of this town can go to supporting a single person at this Station House - cooking for just one, providing necessities for just one…Good Lord!!!”
Her sudden change of tone snapped Errol out of his reverie. Gale had gone pale and bug-eyed, as well as placing a hand over her heart. Errol followed her gaze to the window, where he caught a quick glimpse of something…horrid. Ruinous, desiccated flesh clung lazily to a nightmarish, skeletal face. Small wisps of gray-white hair hung in random clumps from a dome-shaped