Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers) Read Online Free PDF Page B

promptly three times a day to get shot while robbing the bank, cheating at cards or insulting a gambler's card playing. Folks said he was so good at dying because he liked lying down. When he wasn't getting shot, he could be found doing town maintenance or sitting on someone's porch, playing checkers or tidily-winks with the tourists.
    "I know what you're thinking," Bertie said with another laugh, "And I'm telling you, I got a better life than most. I like my job. I like the lady I work for." She winked. "' Cept when she's being mean to poor widows. I come in, do my job and go home. You're the one working after hours, not me, and I'll tell you another little secret about that no-account Victor. When I go home to fix lunch for him? I'm lyin'. He's the one that makes it every day. Breakfast, too. He's not ashamed of woman's work and he does his share. I don't speak of it, because I don't want to shame him in front of the other men and I'd be ashamed to admit it, too, because it says I'm not a proper mate and housekeeper, but it's what works for us, so we keep our little secret. We're a team, me and Victor, and if you look close at Laura and Mary's eyes, you'll see them smilin', too, because Victor taught our boys how to treat their mates."
    Rachel was seeing Victor in a whole new light, but that new light wasn't shining on her.
    "I'm happy for you, Bertie. I really am, but what does all this have to do with me and the other women who look like me."
    "I figure it'd be some comfort to know you're not alone. I'm thinking you're at a crossroads and you've got to figure out which way to turn. You've got to settle it in here." Bertie patted her stomach. "You've got to accept the life you're livin' or you've got to change it."
    "And how would I do that?"
    "Don't know, but I've know n you since you were a wee pup and you've always been a smart one. You'll figure it out. Now, let's get this bed made and I'll take this trash…" She pointed to Coogan's bags. "…down to the front desk while you…" She pointed at Rachel and gave her 'the eye' which Rachel hadn't seen in years."…get your apologies over with. Go on now, own up to your faults and seek forgiveness."
    It was what Rachel's mother always said and between 'the eye' and the words, Rachel felt like she was six again when she knocked on Mrs. Hornmeyer's door. The feeling didn't leave her when , at the sniffled "Come in", she opened it to find Mrs. Hornmeyer sitting in her rocker, staring off into space, a sodden and crumpled hanky in her hand. Hands held tightly together in front of her to stop their wringing, Rachel looked down at her feet.
    "Mrs. Hornmeyer, I've come to say I'm sorry. I was upset about other things and I had no right to take my anger out on you and say such hateful things. I don't know why I said what I did. It was wrong and it was shameful and I hope you'll accept my apology and forgive me my rudeness."
    "I have never been so hurt and angry in my life," Mrs. Hornmeyer whispered and Rachel knew she deserved everything she was about to hear and steadied herself to hear it. And then the world tilted a little as Mrs. Hornmeyer continued.
    "As I was when my son's mate told me I had no place in her house. Her house! When I first came here as Mr. Hornmeyer's new mate, that place was more gap than board. We slept in the storeroom and I cooked our meals on a fire out back. We only saw tourists on the weekend back then and mighty few of them at that, but we believed we were a part of building something good; a safe place to earn our way and raise our cubs. We scraped. We saved. We paid our tithe to the Alpha and the pack. I hauled board and plaster alongside my mate and built that home above the store one room at a time. Sixty years of labor to build what we have and every week, Mr. Hornmeyer put a bit by with Mr. Slocum over at the bank, sometimes no more than a dollar. For our old age, he'd say, and then he up and died before we got there. And now I find out all those