“Friday at last. If he could just get through today, then he’d have two whole days of reprieve when he wouldn’t have to listen to mind-numbing recitations, referee playground squabbles, or hear one more time, “That’s not how Miss Bucknell does it.” I’d rather haul a hundred prisoners to the state pen in Huntsville all by myself than wrangle these kids one more day. His footsteps echoed in the empty room. At least he was early enough to enjoy a little peace and quiet. Heaven knew he wouldn’t get ...any once the children showed up. Funny how he didn’t remember being so noisy as a kid. Maybe he had been. Maybe he’d ask his ma. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t. He hadn’t enjoyed school very much, preferring to be out of doors playing in the creek or riding his horse, tagging after his older brothers, or best of all, hanging around the jail pretending to be a lawman and watching his father sheriff. He’d known from the time he was a little gupper that he never wanted to be anything but a lawman, and the minute he could put aside the pencils and books, he’d shot through the schoolhouse door and hadn’t looked back.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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