All Men Fear Me Read Free

flashed him a strong white grin and slid off the fence. He topped the stranger’s height by half a head. “Not much, Mister.”
    The man creased his cigarette paper and tamped a line of tobacco out of the bag and down the center. He pulled the drawstring closed with his teeth before he ran the tip of his tongue down the edge of the paper, deftly rolled it into a tight little cylinder with one hand, and twisted the ends, neat as you please.
    â€œMind if I bum one of them off you?”
    The traveler cocked an eyebrow, pulled a box of matches out of his pocket, fired up his cigarette and handed it to his companion.
    â€œThanks, Mister.” The youngster took a drag and let the smoke dribble out between his teeth as he watched the stranger roll a second for himself.
    â€œWhere you bound, Mister? We don’t see too many passers-by out here. This road ain’t hardly on the way to anywhere.”
    The man drew a contented lungful of smoke before he answered. “I expect I’m headed right here, slick, if my memory holds true and this is the Tucker farm.”
    â€œIt sure is!” The boy straightened and the blue eyes widened in surprise. “I’m Charlie Tucker, and this is my daddy’s farm. You looking to buy mules?”
    The man’s eyes widened in turn. “Charlie! Well, knock me down and stomp all over me! How’d you come to be all growed up? You and me are kin, though it’s no wonder you don’t remember me. Last I saw you, you were just a little shaver. I’m your uncle Rob Gunn, boy, your mama’s brother.”
    A momentary blank look on Charlie’s face was quickly replaced with an expression of delight. “Uncle Robin?”
    The man grinned. “That’s right. Now I know you’re kin to me, since none of my folks ever called me anything but Robin in all my born days.”
    â€œWell, I’ll be jiggered! I thought you were in jail!”
    Rob sputtered a laugh at this unstudied outburst. “Sometimes I am, Charlie Boy, and sometimes I ain’t, which I ain’t right now. I’m between jobs and I had a yen to stop and see my kinfolks while I was at it. You expect you could see me up to the house?”

Chapter Four
    â€œKeep the Home Fires Burning”
    â€”patriotic song lyric by Lena Gilbert Ford, 1914
    With his old yellow shepherd at his heels, Charlie led his uncle through the gate and up the long approach to the house. The house looked the same as it had the last time Rob had visited, white, with a long porch, surrounded by a white picket fence and sitting on a slight rise. A capped well sat in front, and herbs and flowers lined the stone walk that led to the front porch steps. In the yard, a redbud sapling stood by at the side of the house. A breeze had picked up with the sunrise, and was worrying the bushes and little sapling. Rob could just see the top of a lightning-blasted hackberry tree at the back corner of the house. A slender woman was sitting in a chair on the front porch, but Rob could tell by her coloring that she was not his dark-haired sister. Surely she was one of his nieces, for even from a distance, she reminded him of his grandmother. Her hair and complexion were rather like his own, and it occurred to him with a pang that this girl could be his daughter.
    She stood up and strolled down the porch steps to meet them. Her expression was mildly curious, but she smiled as they approached the gate. Her hair was rolled into a neat twist, but several auburn curls had already made a break for it and had arranged themselves across her brow and cheeks and down the nape of a graceful white neck. Her almond-shaped eyes were precisely the same golden-brown color as the shawl draped over her shoulders.
    Charlie’s face was wreathed in a big white grin. “Ruthie, guess who this is.”
    She reached out and took his hand over the low fence. She was only a little above average height, but stood so