High Hunt by David Eddings Page A

table made very many points. “Are you stationed out here at the Fort now?” I could tell that she had visions of my moving in on them as a semipermanent houseguest.
    â€œWell,” I said, “not really what you’d call stationed here. I’m being discharged here is all. As soon as they cut me loose, I’ll be moving back up to Seattle.” I wanted to reassure her without being too obvious.
    She got the message. “Well, let me get this stuff put away and then we can talk.” She pulled off the light coat she was wearing and draped it over one of the kitchen chairs.
    I blinked. She had the largest pair of breasts I’ve ever seen.I knew Jack liked his women that way, but Margaret was simply unbelievable.
    â€œIsn’t she something?” Jack said, leering at me as he wrapped a proprietary arm about her shoulders. The remark sounded innocent enough, but all three of us knew what he meant.
    â€œCome on, Jack,” she said, pushing him off. “I want to get all this put away so I can sit down.” She began bustling around the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers. The kitchen area was separated from the living room by a waist-high divider, so we could talk without yelling.
    â€œDan just got back today,” Jack said, coming back and plunking himself on the couch. “He’s been in Germany for a couple of years.”
    â€œOh?” she said. “I’ll bet that was interesting, wasn’t it, Dan?”
    â€œIt’s got Southeast Asia beat all to heck,” I said.
    â€œDid they let you travel around any—I mean visit any of the other countries over there?”
    â€œOh, yeah. I visited a few places.”
    â€œDid you get to London at all? I’d sure like to go there.” Her voice sounded a little wistful.
    â€œI was there for about ten days on leave,” I told her.
    â€œI never made it up there,” Jack said. “When I was with the Sixth Fleet, we stayed pretty much in the Mediterranean.”
    â€œDid you get to see any of the groups while you were in London?” Margaret persisted. She really wanted to know; she wasn’t just asking to have something to say.
    â€œNo,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her that groups weren’t particularly my thing. She might think I was trying to put her down.
    â€œMy wife’s a group-nut,” Jack said tolerantly. “That one cabinet there is stacked full of albums. Must be twenty of the damn things in there.”
    â€œI dig them,” she said without apologizing. “Oh, Jack, did you get the kids to bed OK?”
    â€œAll fed, bathed, and tucked in,” he told her. “You know you can trust me to take care of things.”
    â€œPatsy’s been getting a little stubborn about going to bed,” she said. “She’s at that age, I guess.”
    â€œI didn’t have no problems,” Jack said.
    â€œAre you guys hungry?” she asked suddenly. Woman’s eternal answer to any social situation—feed ’em. It’s in the blood, I guess.
    â€œI could eat,” Jack said. “How about you, Dan?”
    â€œWell—”
    â€œSure you can,” he insisted. “Why don’t you whip up a pizza, Mama Cat? One of those big ones.”
    â€œIt’ll take a while,” she said, opening herself a beer. She turned on the overhead light in the kitchen. She looked tired.
    â€œThat’s OK,” he said. “Well, Dan, what are you going to do with yourself now that you’re out?” He said it as if he expected me to say something important, something that would impress hell out of Margaret.
    â€œI’ll be starting in at the U in October,” I told him. “I got all the papers processed and got accepted and all by mail. I’d have rather gone someplace else, but they were going to bring me back here for separation anyway, so what the hell?”
    â€œBoy, you sure run rampant