Read Online Family Tree by Susan Wiggs - Free Book Online Page B

the hell?” Degan’s toes dangled above the muddy ground. “Son of a bitch—”
    His two minions snickered as he twisted this way and that, trying to get down.
    Loyal to the end, thought Annie, beginning to shiver from the cold.
    Degan heaved himself away from the tree. There was a rippingsound, and then he landed on his hands and knees in the mud. The dogs pranced around, thinking it was a game. When Degan stood up, his pants slid down, revealing jockey shorts and thick, hairy legs. He yanked up his pants and sent Fletcher a glare of fury. But the effect was lost because he had to keep a grip on his pants. “You are so dead,” he snarled.
    Fletcher shaded his eyes and looked up at the sky. “You guys can call it a day,” he said, then turned to Annie. “Gordy and I will finish up with the filtering.”
    He turned his back on Degan and walked away. Degan made a growling sound and lunged, but his pants dropped again and he stumbled into the mud a second time. Fletcher didn’t spare him a glance.
    Degan picked himself up, his expression aflame with pure rage. But Annie saw something else in the bully’s face—uncertainty. She planted herself in front of him and addressed Degan and his pals. “It’s time for you guys to head home. Don’t bother coming back. I’ll bring your final checks tomorrow.” Then she held her breath, praying they would cooperate.
    Degan’s uncertainty hardened into belligerence. Annie held her ground, although her stomach was churning. Go, she thought. Just go.
    â€œYou heard her,” Fletcher said, standing behind her. “Take a hike.”
    Degan let loose with a string of sputtering invectives as he clutched his pants and marched away, heading down the mountain through the woods, toward the parking area by Kyle’s office. Ivan and Carl looked at each other, then at Annie. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at them until they followed Degan.
    â€œGood riddance,” she muttered as they disappeared into the woods. Her heart was beating fast. She’d never been comfortable with drama and conflict.
    She and Gordy followed Fletcher into the sugarhouse. Inside, she stood near the fire burning under the evaporator, trying to warm up.
    â€œHey, thanks, man,” Gordy said, his gaze worshipful as he regarded Fletcher. “That was really cool of you.”
    The taller boy gave a shrug. “Don’t thank me. Do yourself a favor and figure out how to quit being a target.”
    â€œI didn’t know I was being a target,” Gordy muttered, staring at the floor. “How am I supposed to know when Degan’s going to go all Lord of the Flies on me?”
    â€œIt’s not rocket science,” Fletcher said, an edge of annoyance in his voice. “Look people in the eye and tell them to knock it off.”
    The dogs curled up together on their blankets.
    Fletcher looked Annie up and down. “You’re soaking wet.”
    â€œLooking him in the eye didn’t really work for me,” she said.
    â€œDo you need to find some dry clothes?”
    â€œIt’s warm here by the fire.” She felt a flush rise in her cheeks. Despite her discomfort, she liked the way he was looking at her. Interested but not rude. At least, she hoped he was interested. Most guys gave her a pass, because she didn’t have long, shiny hair or big boobs. She was small in stature, with curly hair that bordered on kinky, and olive-toned skin that didn’t look quite right in Vermont in the winter.
    â€œWow, it’s awesome in here,” said Gordy. “I’ve never been inside a sugarhouse before.”
    Annie raised her eyebrows. “I thought everybody had.” She turned to Fletcher. “What about you? Are you new to sugaring, too?”
    He offered a quick flash of a grin. “My idea of syrup comes in a plastic squeeze bottle in the shape of an old lady.”
    Annie