Read Online Hotspur by Rita Mae Brown - Free Book Online Page B

else.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with people?”
Aunt Netty moaned.
“This should be full of sandwiches, brownies, chocolate
chip cookies!”
    â€œLazy. They’re getting lazy as sin,”
the young gray concurred with her negative assessment.
    â€œI don’t know what this world is coming to. Why,
there used to be a time, young one, when those two-legged idiots would charge off on the hunt, we’d send
someone to keep them busy, while the rest of us would
raid their trailers. Hamper baskets full of ham biscuits,
corn bread, cinnamon buns, fried chicken.”
    â€œAren’t things still like that when they have tailgates?”
Comet inquired.
    â€œSometimes. But, you see, women work now. In the
old days more stayed home, so the food was better.
That’s my analysis of the situation. Actually it’s my husband’s, who as you know is inclined to theorize.”
She eyed the pack of Nabs.
“I’m not eating those things.”
    â€œI will.”
Comet reached in and flipped out the cellophane-wrapped crackers.
    Walter, nailing the last board in place, a top board over the peak of the coop, looked up. He whispered, “Tallyho.”
    Sister stopped and turned to look. “Aha. Aunt Netty. That gray with her is out of last year’s litter on my farm.”
    â€œThey see us.”
Comet picked up the crackers.
    â€œLet them look all they want. Can’t very well chase us.
I’m telling you, a praying mantis can run faster than a
human being. My God they are slow. Makes you wonder
how they survived.”
She slapped the cracker pack out of Comet’s mouth.
“Open that pack and eat it. Give them
a show.”
    â€œOkay.”
Comet tore open the crackers and gobbled them down.
    â€œAunt Netty, I know that’s you.” Sister shook her finger at the red fox.
    â€œSo?”
Aunt Netty laughed.
    â€œI’m going to chase you this fall,” Sister promised.
    Shaker and Doug stopped work to watch the two foxes.
    â€œReds and grays don’t much fraternize, means the game’s good. Plenty for them to eat, so they might as well be friends,” Shaker noted.
    â€œYou can chase me until the Second Coming. You will
never catch me, Sister Jane,”
Netty taunted.
    Comet swallowed the last of the Nabs.
“Jeez, these
things are salty. And I can’t open a can.”
    â€œMe neither. Put an ice cube in your mouth and let it
melt. That will help. Now you see what I mean—a cheap
old pack of Nabs when it could have been fried chicken.
Just terrible. Standards have fallen.”
    Comet did as he was told.
    â€œI’m going closer. Give them a thrill.”
    Comet couldn’t talk because he had an ice cube in his mouth, but he watched as Aunt Netty sashayed to within twenty yards of Sister and Walter. She stared at them for a moment, then leapt straight up in the air as though catching a bird. When she landed she rolled over and scooted back into the hay. Comet, too, disappeared into the hay and headed back to his den above Broad Creek, which traversed many farms on its way to spilling into the Rockfish River.
    â€œShe’s a pistol,” Walter said, slapping his leg.
    â€œFastest damned fox. Not the prettiest. That pathetic brush of hers looks more like a bottlebrush,” Sister said, laughing, too.
    â€œWhen I first started hunting with you, I didn’t really believe you could identify the foxes. But you can. They’re all different from one another.”
    â€œAnd she’s sassy. She’s not happy unless she has people flying off horses like pinballs spinning out of a pinball machine. She likes to hear them hit the ground.” Sister giggled.
    Shaker was picking up the leftover wood bits. “Well, we recognize them as individuals and they recognize us. She came right on up to you to give you a show.” He tossed the wood fragments in a five-gallon kelly green plastic bucket.
    â€œThat she