Read Online Gather The Children (Chronicles of the Maca Book 2) by Mari Collier - Free Book Online
Authors: Mari Collier
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people from preaching, but at least this opened a new line of thought as Martin was becoming irate about something. It would be best to stick to subjects where Martin wasn't watching and alert.
“Can y'all read all those languages,” asked Lorenz.
Martin relaxed and smiled. “Well, not Greek or Hebrew, but I ain't a Pastor. I can read and write Deutsch and English though, and your Uncle Kap is teaching James Latin. In a few years, he'll be learning Greek.”
Lorenz was awed. “Why Dutch in this country?”
“Not Dutch, Deutsch. It's pronounced German in English.”
Then why didn't he say German in the first place, Lorenz wondered. “Can y'all cipher too?”
“Sure, pretty good at numbers. Least ways, I'm good enough so nobody's going to cheat me.” Martin wasn't bragging. He was just stating a fact.
“Where'd y'all go to school?”
“Right in Schmidt's Corner. Your uncle, he was the teacher, and he taught everybody.”
There was the reference to his uncle again. He sure as hell couldn't remember him. Lorenz stayed on the subject. “Who's everybody?”
“My sister, Olga, some of Tillman's relatives, and Tillman's oldest girl. The Tillman's relatives have moved out. They didn't have anything to eat after the men joined the Rebs. Now Young James is his only student. Tillman won't send his girls if he can't pay. Y'all ever been to school, Lorenz?”
“Naw, never no time.” He wondered what Martin would say if he told him about Comancheros, or Rity singing in saloons. Probably best not to. Aloud he said, “Rity taught me some ciphering. Ah didn't do much learning to read though.”
“I'll bet Uncle Mac and Tante Anna teach y'all.”
“Mama reads and writes?” burst out of Lorenz's mouth.
“Ja, sure, the same as me: Deutsch and English.”
Lorenz pondered the information. Most men he'd known couldn't much more than sign their name. What the hell was a woman doing reading and writing? Of course, Rity did both, but that didn't count. There wasn't much of a woman about Rity except her figure and clothes. “What does Tante mean?” he asked.
“In English it means Aunt. As much as she helped to raise us after Mama died, it seemed silly to call her Mrs. MacDonald.”
“Is yore sister older or younger than y'all?”
“Older, by a year.”
“Is she pretty?”
Martin hooted. “She's okay, I guess. She's sister. Besides, she's sweet on Tom Jackson.”
Lorenz didn't know who Jackson was and didn't care. MacDonald and Rolfe were hanging too close to the wagon. He might as well jaw some more.
Young James had tired of sitting in the back and was now hanging over the boards waiting for a chance to break in on their conversation. He hated the interloper on his seat. The light breeze kept swirling the dust up and around. If he was up high, he wouldn't have to breathe any dust. He was tired of watching clouds half-form and dissolve in the blue sky. How he longed to be up there beside Martin.
“Is your sister pretty,” asked Martin.
“Ah reckon. Some say so. She's too tall for most men,” Lorenz added.
“How tall is she?”
“Ah reckon about six foot.”
Martin whistled and looked at Lorenz. “I didn't think any woman would be taller than Tante Anna.” He was impressed. “Is she married?”
“Naw, she won't even look at a man. She beat the hell out of one fellow that tried to kiss her.”
Young James gasped. “Your Mama will wash your mouth out with soap if you talk like that,” he declared.
“Sez who?”
Martin laughed. “Young James should know. She's washed out his mouth enough times.”
Lorenz raised his eyebrows. The notion of anyone washing out his mouth went against the grain.
James would not retreat. “She has not! Only twice, and besides, it was your fault, Martin.”
“Young James, shut up!” Martin was not the older for nothing. “We are talking.” He turned his attention Lorenz. “Did y'all live in Carson City for long?”
“Only a few months.”
“I've
“Can y'all read all those languages,” asked Lorenz.
Martin relaxed and smiled. “Well, not Greek or Hebrew, but I ain't a Pastor. I can read and write Deutsch and English though, and your Uncle Kap is teaching James Latin. In a few years, he'll be learning Greek.”
Lorenz was awed. “Why Dutch in this country?”
“Not Dutch, Deutsch. It's pronounced German in English.”
Then why didn't he say German in the first place, Lorenz wondered. “Can y'all cipher too?”
“Sure, pretty good at numbers. Least ways, I'm good enough so nobody's going to cheat me.” Martin wasn't bragging. He was just stating a fact.
“Where'd y'all go to school?”
“Right in Schmidt's Corner. Your uncle, he was the teacher, and he taught everybody.”
There was the reference to his uncle again. He sure as hell couldn't remember him. Lorenz stayed on the subject. “Who's everybody?”
“My sister, Olga, some of Tillman's relatives, and Tillman's oldest girl. The Tillman's relatives have moved out. They didn't have anything to eat after the men joined the Rebs. Now Young James is his only student. Tillman won't send his girls if he can't pay. Y'all ever been to school, Lorenz?”
“Naw, never no time.” He wondered what Martin would say if he told him about Comancheros, or Rity singing in saloons. Probably best not to. Aloud he said, “Rity taught me some ciphering. Ah didn't do much learning to read though.”
“I'll bet Uncle Mac and Tante Anna teach y'all.”
“Mama reads and writes?” burst out of Lorenz's mouth.
“Ja, sure, the same as me: Deutsch and English.”
Lorenz pondered the information. Most men he'd known couldn't much more than sign their name. What the hell was a woman doing reading and writing? Of course, Rity did both, but that didn't count. There wasn't much of a woman about Rity except her figure and clothes. “What does Tante mean?” he asked.
“In English it means Aunt. As much as she helped to raise us after Mama died, it seemed silly to call her Mrs. MacDonald.”
“Is yore sister older or younger than y'all?”
“Older, by a year.”
“Is she pretty?”
Martin hooted. “She's okay, I guess. She's sister. Besides, she's sweet on Tom Jackson.”
Lorenz didn't know who Jackson was and didn't care. MacDonald and Rolfe were hanging too close to the wagon. He might as well jaw some more.
Young James had tired of sitting in the back and was now hanging over the boards waiting for a chance to break in on their conversation. He hated the interloper on his seat. The light breeze kept swirling the dust up and around. If he was up high, he wouldn't have to breathe any dust. He was tired of watching clouds half-form and dissolve in the blue sky. How he longed to be up there beside Martin.
“Is your sister pretty,” asked Martin.
“Ah reckon. Some say so. She's too tall for most men,” Lorenz added.
“How tall is she?”
“Ah reckon about six foot.”
Martin whistled and looked at Lorenz. “I didn't think any woman would be taller than Tante Anna.” He was impressed. “Is she married?”
“Naw, she won't even look at a man. She beat the hell out of one fellow that tried to kiss her.”
Young James gasped. “Your Mama will wash your mouth out with soap if you talk like that,” he declared.
“Sez who?”
Martin laughed. “Young James should know. She's washed out his mouth enough times.”
Lorenz raised his eyebrows. The notion of anyone washing out his mouth went against the grain.
James would not retreat. “She has not! Only twice, and besides, it was your fault, Martin.”
“Young James, shut up!” Martin was not the older for nothing. “We are talking.” He turned his attention Lorenz. “Did y'all live in Carson City for long?”
“Only a few months.”
“I've
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