Read Online After the Thunder by Genell Dellin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Genell Dellin
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Emily and with the Chief and they’re liable to mention something to my father.”
Phillips stared at him skeptically.
Fury, pure, pulsating fury that the man would dare to criticize him and then dare to doubt his word rushed through Jacob in a hot wave. He fought to keep it out of his voice.
“It’s true,” he said, trying to sound humble and concerned. “You know as well as I do that old Olmun is one of the true believers in that lumphead. He talks to the faker all the time, and you know how he drives me crazy preaching at me when he gets on a tear.”
He used his man-to-man, friendly grin.
“We don’t want any friction in this three-way partnership, now, do we, Phillips? Let’s head it off before anything gets started, or Olmun will nag us both to death. Besides, we might lose the business of all the folks who believe like Olmun if word gets around that I’ve had words with the charlatan.”
Phillips frowned.
“You may be right. We don’t want that. But I’m warning you now, Charley, this had better not be a trick—you’d better not be getting him over here so you can start up that argument again.”
“I’m not. Count on it.”
“Well, one of us has to tend to business,” Phillips said. “I’m going to check that shipment of harness. This store is basically done, and we’d do just as well to start stocking the shelves.”
“Go ahead.”
Jacob stepped out from under the doorframe as he spoke, heading for the back corner of the building where two huge sycamores grew. The scaffolding used inworking on the second and third floors still stood in an L-shape, higher than the arm’s reach of a tall man, its loose planks littered with pieces of boards and some of the bricks that had been brought in the day before. A stack of them balanced carefully in just the right way could come crashing down onto the head of somebody below.
He stepped into the dappled shade where he’d be less likely to be noticed and, with a quick look around to make sure that none of the workmen and none of the people in the street were watching, loosened one of the support braces. Then he upended a barrel and leapt up onto it. Faster than he had even hoped, the trap was set.
He jumped back down to the ground and thought quickly how to spring it. The so-called shaman was an animal lover wasn’t he? How about a hurt fox right back in there in the thickest part of the underbrush? The natural place to hunker down and try to see into the dimness of the foliage was at the end of the scaffolding, and, while all the pretender’s attention was taken up, Jacob could shake some bricks off on him or tip the other end of the board so they’d slide off down onto his prey.
He smiled grimly. Great. The idiot liked animals so much he could see what it was like to be hunted like one and caught in a trap.
Calmly, he walked back out into the sunshine. Phillips would stay in the store and leave them alone to talk, for Jacob to apologize—Ha!—and for them to make peace between them. Then, just like the snap of a finger, Olmun’s wise man would be gone.
A broad grin stretched his lips. What inspiration! This would most likely take care of the mountain lion, too, since it stayed so close beside the man at all times, but if not, if it didn’t run away from the clatter and the noise, if it tried to attack him, he had the pistol.
He patted the bulge in the pocket of his new dress coat. Yes. This was so perfect! An unfortunate accident was such a wonderful idea he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it earlier—say the very first time Olmun had come home singing the praises of the crazy “healer” who was nothing but a throwback to two hundred years ago in the Old Nation.
Why couldn’t Olmun and his old-fashioned friends have enough sense to see that progress was the only hope of salvation for all of them? The traditional ways were dead, and he, for one, intended to see to it that they were buried and forgotten.
He rounded the
Phillips stared at him skeptically.
Fury, pure, pulsating fury that the man would dare to criticize him and then dare to doubt his word rushed through Jacob in a hot wave. He fought to keep it out of his voice.
“It’s true,” he said, trying to sound humble and concerned. “You know as well as I do that old Olmun is one of the true believers in that lumphead. He talks to the faker all the time, and you know how he drives me crazy preaching at me when he gets on a tear.”
He used his man-to-man, friendly grin.
“We don’t want any friction in this three-way partnership, now, do we, Phillips? Let’s head it off before anything gets started, or Olmun will nag us both to death. Besides, we might lose the business of all the folks who believe like Olmun if word gets around that I’ve had words with the charlatan.”
Phillips frowned.
“You may be right. We don’t want that. But I’m warning you now, Charley, this had better not be a trick—you’d better not be getting him over here so you can start up that argument again.”
“I’m not. Count on it.”
“Well, one of us has to tend to business,” Phillips said. “I’m going to check that shipment of harness. This store is basically done, and we’d do just as well to start stocking the shelves.”
“Go ahead.”
Jacob stepped out from under the doorframe as he spoke, heading for the back corner of the building where two huge sycamores grew. The scaffolding used inworking on the second and third floors still stood in an L-shape, higher than the arm’s reach of a tall man, its loose planks littered with pieces of boards and some of the bricks that had been brought in the day before. A stack of them balanced carefully in just the right way could come crashing down onto the head of somebody below.
He stepped into the dappled shade where he’d be less likely to be noticed and, with a quick look around to make sure that none of the workmen and none of the people in the street were watching, loosened one of the support braces. Then he upended a barrel and leapt up onto it. Faster than he had even hoped, the trap was set.
He jumped back down to the ground and thought quickly how to spring it. The so-called shaman was an animal lover wasn’t he? How about a hurt fox right back in there in the thickest part of the underbrush? The natural place to hunker down and try to see into the dimness of the foliage was at the end of the scaffolding, and, while all the pretender’s attention was taken up, Jacob could shake some bricks off on him or tip the other end of the board so they’d slide off down onto his prey.
He smiled grimly. Great. The idiot liked animals so much he could see what it was like to be hunted like one and caught in a trap.
Calmly, he walked back out into the sunshine. Phillips would stay in the store and leave them alone to talk, for Jacob to apologize—Ha!—and for them to make peace between them. Then, just like the snap of a finger, Olmun’s wise man would be gone.
A broad grin stretched his lips. What inspiration! This would most likely take care of the mountain lion, too, since it stayed so close beside the man at all times, but if not, if it didn’t run away from the clatter and the noise, if it tried to attack him, he had the pistol.
He patted the bulge in the pocket of his new dress coat. Yes. This was so perfect! An unfortunate accident was such a wonderful idea he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it earlier—say the very first time Olmun had come home singing the praises of the crazy “healer” who was nothing but a throwback to two hundred years ago in the Old Nation.
Why couldn’t Olmun and his old-fashioned friends have enough sense to see that progress was the only hope of salvation for all of them? The traditional ways were dead, and he, for one, intended to see to it that they were buried and forgotten.
He rounded the
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