Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series) by C.DEANNA VERHOFF Page B

the doorway. Dad .
    He snapp ed a leather belt between his hands. “ Glory Alley !” he hollered. “Where are you?”
    Familiar with that tone , and the belt, s he knew big trouble was coming . Her insides felt like a rope going taut.
    Dad stopped a couple of paces away to stand over h er . Still in his long underwear, wearing a holey white T-shirt covered by a half-button ed flannel shirt, he asked , “What in the blazes are ya doing, girl ?”
    “I-I dunno. ” Glory replied confused, too afraid to look him in the eye.
    “I-I dunno ? ” he mocked . “Don’t lie to me ! You forgot to latch the chicken coop — didn’t you?”
    “Uh, no . I’m sure I locked it.”
    “Get up.”
    She rolled to h er feet and tried to increase the amount of space between h er and the belt.
    “ Y ou remembered you forgot to secure the latch . T hen came out here to cover your hide , thinking I wouldn’t figure it out.”
    He held up a wad of white and brown chicken feathers.
    Glory ’s breath caught in h er chest.
    “An animal got into the coop last night and tore up three chickens! ” He threw the downy fuzz at Glory in disgust .
    “I ’m positive I locked it ... ”
    “Latches don’t unlock themselves,” Dad growled . S napp ing the belt again , he raised it over her head.
    “Wait, Dad ! Wait!” the words tumbled out as h er mind cleared . “Two bums were in the barn last night . I ’m sure they had something to do with it . ”
    “Bums?”
    She nodded vigorously. “Yes, and w hen I came out here to get a flashlight, ‘cause Brandon threw my stuff out the window, they cornered me on the ladder and I fought them off with the rake. The n the one in the loft threw blue dust at me, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up with a giant headache, flat-out on my back right here. ”
    She pointed to the floorboards beneath the ladder. “Honest.”
    “Are you sure they weren’t government spies?”
    “ Huh?”
    Dad lowered the belt and motioned with a finger. “Come here.”
    Glory wanted to run, but knew better than to disobey . Dad smelled like bourbon mixed with sour milk . H e gripped h er shoulders, forcing her to turn around while he rubbed his fingers through her hair . She prayed he’d find brains oozing o ut or at least a grapefruit -sized lump .
    “You’re fine.” His cold gaze sent chills down her spine.
    “But the bums stole my shoes! ” Glory pointed at h er feet in a last ditch effort to convince him she was the victim, not the perpetrator.
    “What would two bums want with a pair of kid’s shoes?”
    “ M aybe they thought they’d fit.”
    “Midget bums took your shoes, eh?”
    “No.”
    “That’s what I thought.”
    “They weren’t exactly midgets, but they were short for guys, so I just call ‘em that . ”
    Dad ’s nostrils flared. “Enough of this nonsense,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now, I’m not going to ask you again . Where are your shoes?”
    “I-I told you, the bums took them.”
    “First you forget to latch the gate . ” Dad ’s eyes were narrow slits. “Then you make up a story about bums in the barn to cover for the fact you lost your shoes. ”
    Glory bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling.
    “ Then there’s the matter of Queen’s Mesa . ”
    “Brandon,” she whispered under her breath. “That dirty snitch.”
    “ I’ve told you a hundred times, if not a thousand, you’re not allowed to go there . If you were a boy , I’d let my fist knock some s ense into you. Since you’re not , the belt will have to do.”
    “No, Dad, no, please no. ” She tried to back away, holding up her hands as panic welled up inside her gut.
    “It’s too late for that, Glory . I’ll break you of your dim-witted ways one way or another.”
    “Take off your coat.” he ordered. “And grab your knees.”
    Glory relunctantly obey e d , moving slowly like someone heading to the hangman’s noose. This is gonna hurt like crazy. Sh e closed her eyes tight ly,