“Ha, I know Lottie,” one of the others said. “And believe me, you don’t want her upset.”
“Come on, Poke, we gotta go.”
“All right, Pa,” Poke replied.
“What do you say, men, that we call it quits for the day?” Percy said. “I want to thank all of you for coming, and hope to see all of you tomorrow.”
“We’ll be here,” Terrell promised. “I’m anxious to see what this house is goin’ to look like when it’s finished. Why, I might even hire Byrd to design a new house for me.”
After all the tools were put away, and good-byes exchanged, the men left the worksite to return home, home for most of them being the bunkhouse at Sky Meadow.
Ethan Terrell and his son, Poke, had the farthest to go, and though it wasn’t yet dark, the sun was completely below the horizon by the time they got home.
“You got here just in time,” Lottie said. “The chicken is done, the potatoes are mashed, the gravy is made, and I’m taking out the biscuits now.”
“Ma, when I get married, do you think she will be as good a cooker as you?” Poke asked.
“Well, if not, we can always have your ma teach her,” Ethan said. “My ma taught Lottie. Why, before we were married, she couldn’t boil water.”
“Ha! Do you want to eat tonight, Ethan Terrell?” Lottie teased.
* * *
Poke was tired and pleasantly full when he went to bed that night, and because of that, went to sleep very quickly. He wasn’t sure what time it was when he awoke in the middle of the night, but he lay comfortably in bed, about to drift off again, when he saw a strange, wavering light playing against the wall of his bedroom.
Confused, he sat up and looked through the window.
The barn was on fire!
“Pa!” he shouted, running into his parents’ bedroom. “Pa! The barn is on fire!”
“The horses!” Ethan said. Getting up, he pulled on his boots, but didn’t put any clothes on over his long underwear.
“Get your shoes on, Poke, come help me!” Ethan shouted as he started toward the front door.
Poke returned to his bedroom, but unlike his father, he pulled on a pair of trousers, then reached for his boots. He was just pulling them on when he heard shots from out front.
Almost immediately after the shots, he heard his mother cry out.
“Ethan!”
There were more shots, and Poke hurried to the living room. His mother came back inside, and Poke saw that the front of her nightgown was covered with blood.
“Ma!”
“Run, Poke, run!” Lottie said. “They’ve killed your father . . . and me. Run, hide!”
Chapter Thirty-two
Poke had heard the scream of the horses when he crawled out through the back window. One of the horses, he knew, was his horse, Cody. He had had Cody since he was nine years old, and the thought of him dying in such a way just added to the hurt he was feeling over the sudden death of his parents. But he knew there was nothing he could do about it.
He ran through the night, not only to escape the men who had come to kill, but also to get away from the panic and pain-induced screams of the horses.
When he first started out he had no specific plan in mind other than to escape. But after a few minutes he realized that it was as important for him to be going toward something as it was for him to be running away from something. Without having to think hard about it, he started the long, fifteen-mile trek toward Sky Meadow.
About an hour after he started, he heard horses coming up the road. It was still dark, and he had no idea who would be out riding this time of night, but he didn’t want to take any chances, so he left the road and hid in the trees.
The riders stopped right in front of him, though it was so dark that he could make out only the shapes and shadows. The good thing was, he knew they wouldn’t be able to see him back in the trees.
“You sure they was a boy in the house?” one of the men asked.
“We was told there was, but I didn’t see nobody.”
“Well, if they was a boy, I don’t think he coulda got this far. Come on back, we’re just wastin’ time here.”
“Yeah, we need to help get the herd moved.”
Poke stayed perfectly still for nearly an hour after they were gone, getting up to leave only because he was afraid he would fall asleep, and he didn’t want to do that until he reached Mr. MacCallister’s place.
* * *
Sara Sue Gaines had begun helping Wang in the kitchen, doing so with his permission, and under his guidance. Elmer’s prediction that such an arrangement could only lead to trouble, proved to be false. Wang took well to his position as instructor, and Sara Sue was a very good student.
Sara Sue opened the oven door to look in at the biscuits she had rolled out and put in to bake a short while earlier.
“Oh, they are browning quite nicely,” she said. “Your idea of baking them in an iron skillet is wonderful.”
“I will get water for the coffee,” Wang offered.
“I’ll grind the beans.”
Wang stepped out onto the back porch and began pumping water for breakfast, when he saw the boy coming up the long front drive. It was Poke Terrell, and Wang wondered why he was walking, instead of riding. As he saw the boy approaching, he realized that something was wrong. He was walking in a staggering, hesitant
