Read Online Pinto Lowery by G. Clifton Wisler - Free Book Online Page B

name o’ Dotham. Plans to take the trail north to Kansas, as he tells it. Said de Double R’s goin’ with him, and I might sell dese three saddle ponies to a fellow name o’ Richardson.”
    â€œThat’d be my pa,” the boy answered. He paused a moment to study Pinto’s face. Then he glanced over the horses. “He ain’t here just now,” the boy finally explained.
    â€œYeah?” Pinto asked.
    â€œOut with the range crew. I guess I could take you to him. In a bit.”
    â€œYou’d be de only man about, wouldn’t you?” Pinto asked, reading the wariness in the fifteen-year-old’s eyes. “You jus’ point de way. I got a nose fer findin’ people.”
    â€œI’d have to know a man better to send him Pa’s way,” the boy said.
    Pinto glanced around the buildings. A pair of smaller boys had started over from a chicken coop. A winsome girl in her late teens now appeared in the doorway.
    â€œWho’s that come visitin’, Jared?” she called.
    â€œMustanger named Lowery,” Jared answered. “I was thinkin’ to take him to see Pa.”
    â€œNot ’fore supper, you won’t,” she answered. “Your friend there looks like he could stand a good feedin’, too.”
    â€œCould be you’d feel easier if I was on my way,” Pinto said, recognizing the concern etched in Jared Richardson’s brow.
    â€œNo, if Mr. Dotham sent you along, I don’t figure you to do us harm,” Jared responded. “You might leave that pistol off your hip, though. Elsewise Jim and Job’ll talk off your ear on it.”
    â€œSure,” Pinto agreed. “Got a Parker County friend with boys like to jabber.”
    â€œWho’d that be?” Jared asked as he helped Pinto secure the horses.
    â€œBob Toney. Lazy T.”
    â€œI’ve rid some miles with him,” Jared declared, grinning. “He and his boys both. Should’ve said that right off. Lowery, huh? I recall him speakin’ of you. Judged you to have the devil’s own way with horses, though you could be mule-stubborn and chicken-brained besides.”
    â€œGuess he has spoke o’ me,” Pinto said, laughing. “That’s ole Bob. You ask him sometime who drug him off de field at Spotsylvania Court House? Was dis chicken-brained fool here!”
    Jared echoed Pinto’s cackle. The youngster went on to introduce his brothers Jim and Job before turning to the pleasant-faced young woman in the doorway.
    â€œNow this’s Arabella,” Jared explained. “Our sister. She sort o’ runs the house, what with Ma bein’ dead.”
    â€œSort o’?” ten-year-old Job asked. Jim, who was a hair younger, couldn’t resist a chance to laugh.
    â€œI heard o’ kings easier o’ manner,” Jared whispered. “Don’t you get the wrong side o’ Arabella. Not if you figure to see tomorrow.”
    â€œWorks us near to death,” Job added.
    â€œWork?” Arabella exclaimed. “What would you useless batch o’ fool boys know o’ work! Now get washed and come to supper. It’s sure grown cold.”
    â€œMore likely burnt black,” little Job said, hopping out of his sister’s reach. Jim chuckled again, and Arabella gave him a solid swat. She then marched down a long hall to the kitchen. Pinto followed Jared in that same direction while the younger Richardsons set off to find a wash basin.
    Supper with the Richardson youngsters took Pinto back to his own younger years. His sisters had been a considerable vexation, and though he hadn’t had brothers to provide like torment, there’d been cousins aplenty to stand in their place.
    â€œYou’ll find no escape from troubles in the army, Georgie,” his mother had warned when he joined the Marshall Guards. But being young, Pinto hadn’t believed that. There never was a hint of smarts