Blood Stained by M. M. Crumley

Author:M. M. Crumley [Crumley, M. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lone Ghost Publishing
Published: 2020-01-17T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

As Pecos stood to leave he said, "Doyle, when the boy's done drinkin' his coffee, take 'im out to the north pasture and fix the broken fence."

"Sure thing," Doyle drawled.

"Wait, what?" Andrew protested. "I don't know how to fix a fence!"

"Just as good a day as any to learn," Pecos replied before the door closed behind him.

"Get movin', boy," Doyle said. "We ain't got all day."

"But Pecos said I could finish my coffee," Andrew protested.

"You can...if you hurry."

Andrew sighed, quickly ate the rest of his food, and gulped down his delicious coffee. Then he followed Doyle out to the barn where they saddled a couple horses and loaded a donkey with fence posts, shovels, wire, and some other stuff. Doyle grabbed a bag of tools and threw it in his saddle bag.

They left the ranch yard and rode through the pouring rain in silence. When they got to the north pasture, Doyle nodded at the ranch hands and kept riding. After a while they reached the broken fence.

"What now?" Andrew asked, staring at the sagging fence and surrounding mud. Several fence posts had been knocked over and broken, and the wire between them was a tangled mess.

"We fix it." Doyle tossed Andrew a shovel. "Dig a hole right next to the old fence post; 'bout two feet deep."

Andrew stared at the soaking wet, muddy ground. "Really? I don't think it's even possible to dig a hole in this mud."

Doyle grinned wolfishly. "Get to work, boy."

Andrew sighed and started digging. He'd dug holes at home to plant flowers and bushes, but he'd never tried to dig a hole in solid mud wearing an oversized duster that kept getting in his way. He finally unbuckled his guns, slung them over his saddle horn and draped his duster over them to keep them dry.

The rain soaked his clothes in seconds, but at least he could move to shovel. For all the good it did. Every time he pulled out a shovelful, the rain washed more mud in. He still hadn't gotten his hole deep enough by the time Doyle finished tamping down the dirt around his fence post.

Andrew leaned on his shovel and stared. "How did you do that so fast?"

"Just did."

Andrew rolled his eyes and looked glumly at his shallow muddy hole. "I've probably dug two feet, but the rain keeps washing it back in."

Doyle lifted a fence post and shoved it into the hole. "It's good. Tamp it in."

Andrew shoved mud around the post, then picked up the solid board Doyle had been using to tamp the ground. He lifted it high and slammed it into the ground. Mud splattered everywhere, coating his entire front half. He swiped the mud from his eyes and glared at Doyle, daring him to laugh. He raised the board again and brought it down a little lighter. Mud still splattered everywhere, but at least it didn't hit him in the face.

He tamped for a minute before putting the board down and moving on to the next broken post.

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