taken it a bit too far. We
do
have modern criminal investigation techniques available to us these days, so I don’t think a ‘necktie party’ is quite what’s called for.”
“It was just an idea,” Stevie said meekly.
“Yes, I know,” said Frank, smiling. “But I think we need to have a better idea of what’s going on before we try to—what is it they say?”
“Take the law into our own hands?” Stevie suggested.
“Right,” Frank said. “Anyway, I think I’ll ride out and do the fence repairs myself. That’ll give me a chance to look around and make an assessment of—”
“Them dirty varmints?” Stevie offered.
“—the situation,” Frank finished.
“You don’t think it’s anything to worry about, do you, Dad?” Kate asked.
“I think any time you’ve got two breaks in a fence that didn’t have any breaks in it a few days ago, when your neighbor is complaining about missing horses and your own herd seems to be short, and when your daughter has seen strangers with poor excuses trespassing on your land—well, it’s a good time to assess the situation.”
Phyllis stood up and began clearing plates from the table.
“Be careful out there, dear,” Phyllis said to Frank. “I was listening to the weather forecast this morning. They’re calling for snow.”
“Well, it’s almost Christmas,” Frank said. “Of course there’ll be snow.”
“Actually,” Phyllis said, “they mentioned something about rather a
lot
of snow.”
S TEVIE EYED THE last pancake on the platter.
“You can’t,” Carole said.
“Can too,” Stevie said. She was always ready for a challenge, especially when the challenge involved pancakes. She slipped the flapjack onto her plate, buttered it, smothered it with maple syrup, and dug in. Slowly. She would do almost anything rather than admit she didn’t have room for just one more.
Kate appeared from the kitchen to wait for Stevie’s plate.
“Maybe she’ll just keep eating until lunchtime,” Carole said.
“Okay by me,” Kate said. “That’s one less plate towash. And speaking of washing, I promised Mom I’d help her with the Christmas baking. It’s part of those Christmas traditions we have that I didn’t know we had until the Finnegans booked the Creek Suite. Anyway, it’ll keep me busy until lunch. Do you all have plans for the morning?”
Lisa stood up from the table and pushed her chair in. “I thought I might check my tack,” she said. “It might need a little cleaning.”
Stevie and Carole exchanged glances. Lisa’s tack was fine. Going to the barn after breakfast didn’t have anything to do with tack, but it did have a lot to do with John Brightstar.
“See you later,” Stevie said, excusing Lisa, who left with a little spring in her step.
“I’m out of here for a while, too,” Christine said. “But nothing near as romantic as cleaning tack. I’m meeting some school friends in town. We agreed to finish our Christmas shopping together. Anybody want to come along?”
“No, I’m all done with my shopping,” Carole said.
“Me too,” said Stevie.
“You are?” Carole asked.
“Sure,” Stevie said.
“Oh,” said Carole.
“Okay, well, then I’ll be back here for dinner. See you all then.”
“Bye,” they said.
Carole watched Stevie consume the last three bites of her pancake. She shook her head in awe. “I never thought I’d see someone eat fourteen pancakes at one meal.”
“Fifteen,” Stevie said. “But one of them was little.”
“You beat all,” Carole said.
“I always do,” said Stevie, wiping her mouth fastidiously. “I’m good at pancakes, but I’m a true sharpie at Monopoly. Want to try your luck?”
“Well, sure,” Carole said. “Free Parking?”
“Definitely.”
The two girls headed for the game closet in the lounge. They found the Monopoly box, and it took them only a few minutes to set up the game and begin. Stevie took the old shoe. Carole was the iron.
Stevie won the toss of
do
have modern criminal investigation techniques available to us these days, so I don’t think a ‘necktie party’ is quite what’s called for.”
“It was just an idea,” Stevie said meekly.
“Yes, I know,” said Frank, smiling. “But I think we need to have a better idea of what’s going on before we try to—what is it they say?”
“Take the law into our own hands?” Stevie suggested.
“Right,” Frank said. “Anyway, I think I’ll ride out and do the fence repairs myself. That’ll give me a chance to look around and make an assessment of—”
“Them dirty varmints?” Stevie offered.
“—the situation,” Frank finished.
“You don’t think it’s anything to worry about, do you, Dad?” Kate asked.
“I think any time you’ve got two breaks in a fence that didn’t have any breaks in it a few days ago, when your neighbor is complaining about missing horses and your own herd seems to be short, and when your daughter has seen strangers with poor excuses trespassing on your land—well, it’s a good time to assess the situation.”
Phyllis stood up and began clearing plates from the table.
“Be careful out there, dear,” Phyllis said to Frank. “I was listening to the weather forecast this morning. They’re calling for snow.”
“Well, it’s almost Christmas,” Frank said. “Of course there’ll be snow.”
“Actually,” Phyllis said, “they mentioned something about rather a
lot
of snow.”
S TEVIE EYED THE last pancake on the platter.
“You can’t,” Carole said.
“Can too,” Stevie said. She was always ready for a challenge, especially when the challenge involved pancakes. She slipped the flapjack onto her plate, buttered it, smothered it with maple syrup, and dug in. Slowly. She would do almost anything rather than admit she didn’t have room for just one more.
Kate appeared from the kitchen to wait for Stevie’s plate.
“Maybe she’ll just keep eating until lunchtime,” Carole said.
“Okay by me,” Kate said. “That’s one less plate towash. And speaking of washing, I promised Mom I’d help her with the Christmas baking. It’s part of those Christmas traditions we have that I didn’t know we had until the Finnegans booked the Creek Suite. Anyway, it’ll keep me busy until lunch. Do you all have plans for the morning?”
Lisa stood up from the table and pushed her chair in. “I thought I might check my tack,” she said. “It might need a little cleaning.”
Stevie and Carole exchanged glances. Lisa’s tack was fine. Going to the barn after breakfast didn’t have anything to do with tack, but it did have a lot to do with John Brightstar.
“See you later,” Stevie said, excusing Lisa, who left with a little spring in her step.
“I’m out of here for a while, too,” Christine said. “But nothing near as romantic as cleaning tack. I’m meeting some school friends in town. We agreed to finish our Christmas shopping together. Anybody want to come along?”
“No, I’m all done with my shopping,” Carole said.
“Me too,” said Stevie.
“You are?” Carole asked.
“Sure,” Stevie said.
“Oh,” said Carole.
“Okay, well, then I’ll be back here for dinner. See you all then.”
“Bye,” they said.
Carole watched Stevie consume the last three bites of her pancake. She shook her head in awe. “I never thought I’d see someone eat fourteen pancakes at one meal.”
“Fifteen,” Stevie said. “But one of them was little.”
“You beat all,” Carole said.
“I always do,” said Stevie, wiping her mouth fastidiously. “I’m good at pancakes, but I’m a true sharpie at Monopoly. Want to try your luck?”
“Well, sure,” Carole said. “Free Parking?”
“Definitely.”
The two girls headed for the game closet in the lounge. They found the Monopoly box, and it took them only a few minutes to set up the game and begin. Stevie took the old shoe. Carole was the iron.
Stevie won the toss of
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