Frontier Woman
“He crossed to the liquor cabinet and helped himself to a whiskey, then nodded absently to Creed and sat bent over like an old man in the chair that faced the cold, ash-blackened fireplace. His head hung down between his slumped shoulders and his elbows rested on his spread knees, the whiskey glass balanced in his hands between them.Cricket self-consciously tugged down her buckskin shirt and walked over to stand across from Tom. Her plan had to work. She glanced over her shoulder to find that Cr...eed had risen from his chair and followed her. He stood behind her, ready to back her up.“Tom, I want to talk to you.”For a long time, Tom said nothing. Finally, he looked up at her and replied, “We have nothing to say to one another. I want you to stay the hell out of my life.”Cricket cringed inwardly at the harshness of Tom’s voice but steadied herself and said, “Amy’s upstairs dying while you sit there pretending nothing’s wrong. Why did you work so hard to keep her alive, if you were just going to treat her like something dirty you were too good to touch anymo—”Tom lunged from the rawhide chair, sending his whiskey glass crashing into the stone fireplace with one hand, while the other whipped around to slap Cricket.MoreLess
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