Read Online Ball and Chain by J. R. Roberts - Free Book Online

Acklund whispered. “If anyone comes toward us, just whistle.”
    Mose nodded and moved away from the house so he could stand against a tree. In the darkness, he looked like just another bulky shadow.
    Acklund kept so low that he was almost crawling when he approached the house. The window he crouched beneath was rectangular and stretched lengthwise along a good portion of the side wall. He removed his hat, pressed his other hand against the wall, and then slowly lifted his head until he could peek through the bottom of the window.
    Just then, someone’s voice came from the house.
    â€œYou sure you don’t want anything stronger than that?” it asked.
    Acklund’s hand flinched toward the gun at his side, but he stopped short before drawing it. Once that initial reflex had passed, he noticed that the window in front of him was partially open and the voice he’d heard wasn’t directed at him. Just to be safe, he froze in his spot and listened as intently as he could.
    â€œWater is just fine,” another voice replied. Acklund recognized this one as Clint’s, since he’d spent a good while listening to Clint back at the Howling Moon.
    â€œSuit yourself,” the first voice said in a gruffer tone. “I always like some whiskey to go along with my supper.”
    There was some further banter, but Acklund was more concerned with the clomping of boots moving away from the window. Once the steps had faded enough, Acklund eased himself upward again so he could take a look inside.
    As soon as he was able to see over the windowsill, he caught a whiff of burnt corn bread and boiled beef. The food may not have been perfect, but after so many days of eating beans and jerked venison, it smelled good enough to get his stomach rumbling. He might have been thinking a bit too much about food, since Acklund didn’t hear the lighter set of footsteps until the woman making them crossed in front of the window.
    When the woman appeared in front of him, Acklund dropped to one knee and pressed himself against the side of the house. Even though he couldn’t see the woman directly above him, he was close enough to feel the heat from her body as she pulled the window all the way open and leaned forward a little.
    Acklund moved his fingers around his pistol so slowly that he could feel every joint creak within his hand. When the gun brushed against the holster and made the subtle sound of iron brushing against leather, he gritted his teeth and prepared for the worst.
    Hank sat in his chair and let out an impatient sigh. “Ellie.” He grunted. When he didn’t get a reply, he rolled his eyes and turned to look halfway over his shoulder. “Ellie, what in the devil are you doin’? The spuds are probably cold by now!”
    â€œI thought I heard something, Daddy,” she replied from the kitchen.
    Shaking his head, Hank ripped the napkin from where it had been dangling from his collar and slapped it onto the table. He then got up and stormed to the kitchen as if he were trying to stomp out a fire. “What the hell are you talking about now? If you made me get up for another rodent scraping at the wall, I swear . . .”
    â€œNever mind!” Ellie said. “It’s probably nothing.” Hank remained in his spot, half standing and half crouching over his chair. When he didn’t hear anything else after that, he lowered himself back down again. Looking over to Clint, he explained, “She gets like this sometimes. Her Ma used to be fidgety, too.”
    â€œIt’s quite all right,” Clint said. “Everyone’s ears plays tricks on them sometimes.”
    Ellie emerged from the kitchen holding a large platter in both hands. “Thank you very much, Mr. Adams,” she said. “It’s nice to know I’m not crazy.”
    Clint stood up and smiled when Ellie entered the room. She was average height for a woman and had long hair that was