The Heaviest Rock (An Ozark Mountain Series Book 3) by Black Alan & Knight Bernice

Author:Black, Alan & Knight, Bernice [Black, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2014-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

TUESDAY - NOON

The sudden blast of a steam whistle startled Jezebel causing the Belgian to shy sideways. Grace grabbed the saddle horn again to keep from being unseated. It was embarrassing to have to grab the saddle horn with a crowd of people watching. It made her look like a greenhorn, but it would be more embarrassing to land on her backsides in the muddy street.

LillieBeth whipped her revolver from the holster; she spun Fletcher in a tight circle. The horse danced with excitement, stepping high, tail fluttering in the misty breeze, his hooves splashing mud and water from the Forsythe street onto the pedestrians standing on the sidewalk.

Taradittles horse just hung its head wearily. The man barely looked up with bleary eyes. Grace had allowed him to finish the bottle of whiskey for breakfast and the ride to Forsythe for him had been a mixture of half-drunken stupor and unpleasant hangover.

“Ease up on that lead pusher, hillbilly,” a man shouted. “Control your horse or I’ll drag you off there and do it for you.”

LillieBeth reined Fletch to a stop within a single step. She faced the man, her revolver still out, but pointed skyward. She stared at the man but did not speak back to him.

Grace could see the look of conflict on the young woman’s face. She had been taught not to sass back an adult. Yet she had reached an age where insults carried an exceptional sting. “Matthew five verse thirty nine says in part, ‘But whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also’.”

LillieBeth spun the wheel on the revolver and eased the hammer onto the empty chamber. She slid the gun smoothly back into its holster. She smiled without politeness, pleasure, amusement, or remorse. “I am sorry to have disturbed your noonday, sir.”

There were quite a few people on the streets. Grace had not expected this many people in town on a Tuesday. Forsythe was much larger than Oasis, but Tuesday was a workday and she wondered why all these people were not at work where they belonged. She looked up and down the street. Their group was not the only one startled by the blaring steam whistle. She guided Jezebel up next to LillieBeth and Fletcher. She spoke quietly. “Clayton and I came down here last year for a little fishing. The dam keepers blast the whistle to warn anyone downstream when they’re going to let water out of the lake.”

“Why would you build a dam to keep water back and then let it go again?” LillieBeth asked.

Grace said, “It’s still raining here and up river. The White River is pushing against its banks and threatening to flood. They can lower the lake level if they let water go here just a little at a time. That’ll let the lake take in more water and keep the flooding from being so bad.”

“It does not seem to help Oasis much. It floods up there every time two rabbits whizz in a stream at the same time.

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