The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,145

in your sleep… that you’re sleepwalking when you visit Griggs’ saloon?”

“No, that’s not what I was saying at all,” Harley shouted, and then doubled up his fists and started for Myron. “It’s all your fault. You’ve been talking out of turn and—”

Fannie threw the pitcher of clotted cream in Harley’s face, which succeeded in stopping him dead in his tracks.

“You have ignored my feelings, and because I was raised to be a lady, I let it slide. You treat your horse better than you treat me, but because I was raised not to question men’s decisions, I pretended not to know. But you, Sir, do not insult my intelligence. No one had to tell me what you’re doing. I have eyes, and despite what you obviously believe, I also have feelings. I do not wish to be your fiancé anymore and since you never bothered to give me a ring, then I have nothing to fling back in your face but my words. Get out, Harley. I don’t want to see you again.”

Orville’s heart fluttered. He also had visions of dying dreams. If there was no marriage, then his plans for Henrietta Lewis were over.

“Fannie! You can’t be serious!” Orville cried.

Harley blanched. Visions of owning Widow Taggert’s land began to fade.

“No, Fannie, you can’t,” Harley muttered, and reached for Fannie’s arm.

“Get out,” she said.

Harley grabbed her.

Myron grabbed Harley.

“Turn her loose,” Myron said.

Harley sneered. “What is this? Surely you’re not trying to pretend that you care for her, too?”

Fannie’s face flushed with embarrassment. Pretend? Dear God, how much more humiliated could she be?

“I don’t have to pretend,” Myron said. “She’s a fine figure of a woman and a man would be proud to call her his wife.”

“Wife?” Harley said, and then laughed as he looked at Orville. “How much did you pay him? More than me, I’d say for him to be so vehement.”

Fannie gasped. Paid? No, it could not be.

“Father! Please say this isn’t so.”

Orville couldn’t meet her gaze.

Fannie would have turned and fled the room had Myron not stopped her intent.

“No,” he said, and then softened his voice. “Please. Stay.”

Fannie sat down with a thump and covered her face with her hands.

Harley turned his anger and disappointment into rage as he struck out at Myron.

Myron took a step back, ducked the swing and then hit Harley square in the nose with his fist. Blood spurted. Harley grabbed his nose.

“Oh! Oh! You boke by dose.”

“Yes, I expect I did,” Myron said. “Now apologize to Miss Smithson.”

Harley glared at Fannie. “Frr whud?”

Myron hit him again, this time in the mouth.

Harley screeched and then spit two teeth out in his hand.

“Oh! Oh! You boke by teed.”

“And I shall next break your balls if you do not apologize to Miss Smithson at once.”

Harley moaned and clutched his private parts.

“Bannie… I’b zorry,” he mumbled, then spit out another tooth before turning on Orville. “Id’s ober, bud ju dodn’t get jur bunny back.”

Orville frowned. “Bunny? What bunny?”

Harley started backing out of the room, still holding his balls.

“Bunny, ju owd coot. Bunny. Wun towsend dowwers. Webember?”

Myron stared at Orville as if he’d suddenly grown horns.

“You paid this slimy bastard money to humiliate your daughter?”

Orville moaned. “It wasn’t like that,” he mumbled. “I only wanted what was best for—”

Suddenly a shot rang out, then bits of plaster from the ceiling began falling down upon their faces.

Harley dropped to his knees and began praying for mercy while Orville stared at Fannie as if she’d just lost her mind.

“Daughter! Put that shotgun down before—”

She aimed it in Harley’s face. “Get out.”

He started to get to his feet when she shoved the gun barrel up against his nose.

“No,” she muttered. “Crawl.”

Harley couldn’t believe this was happening. Only an hour ago he’d been thinking about bedding sweet Lola, and now he might never be able to get it up again. Not only that, but his looks had definitely been damaged. He didn’t want to think about what that might mean.

“Now!” Fannie suddenly screamed, and cocked the hammer back on the shotgun.

“Doh, pease,” Harley begged, and began crawling out of the kitchen on all fours.

Fannie turned the gun on Orville.

“Daughter! Put that down this—”

She shot, missing his head by mere inches. The buckshot hit the wall to Orville’s right, blasting a hole clear through into the next room.

Orville watched in horror as Fannie reached into the cupboard for more ammunition, at which time, he bolted and ran.

Fannie was so angry she was shaking. There was plaster in her chicken and a piece