Dandelion Iron Book One Read Free Page B

freezing water, I’d pull Wren down with me. And I hated when she called me princess. So I reared back to slap that evil smile off her face.
    Even sitting, Wren ducked it easily. “Oh, hell no, girl. What they been teachin’ you here? Not how to fight. I saw that comin’ a kilometer away.”
    Rattler-quick, Wren was on her feet. With her free hand, she tweaked my nose.
    The sour smell of liquor oozed from her pores. No surprise there.
    Mrs. Justice’s office was not a place to fight—too crowded with furniture, books, and whatnot, but still, I tried to wrestle my sister down. Even half-drunk, Wren was stronger and meaner. She kneed me in the thigh and shoved me to the hardwood floor.
    “Back in the day, you’d have dodged that,” Wren said. “Your time with these Yankees done slowed you down. Let me help you up.” She put out a hand, fingernails painted a bright cherry-red.
    I knocked her hand away. “I don’t want to go home. I want to graduate. I’ve already started looking at colleges.” That was true, even though I was only a junior.
    “I don’t care what you want.” Wren retrieved the magazine and slammed it back into the pistol. She chambered a round, then ejected the magazine, and pressed the spare bullet in on top of the others. She slid the magazine home into the butt of the 9mm. Once more fully loaded. “Sharlotte wants you, and what Sharlotte wants Sharlotte gets. You can argue with her.”
    I couldn’t match Wren in a fistfight, but I had other weapons, nasty bombs with my sister’s name stamped on them in big black letters.
    I stood up and wiped some sweat off my forehead, then started pushing red buttons, launching missiles, going to war. Fire one. “You drunk? Well, you are weak-willed, or that’s what Mama always used to say.”
    A little of that self-satisfied smirk faded from Wren’s face. “What Mama said don’t matter no more. She’s dead. And yeah, I had a few beers on the train, but I’m far from drunk.”
    “Sure Mama died of a heart attack. Worrying over you finally broke her heart.” Fire two.
    Wren laughed, jiggling the Springfield 9 in my general direction. “Oh, you’re good. I see what you’re doing, and it won’t work.”
    Fire three. “Sharlotte really did threaten to kill you, didn’t she? How does that feel? Your own sister wanting you dead? Just goes to show, you really don’t belong in our family—not when Mama was alive, and definitely not now that she’s … gone.”
    My voice tripped on that last word, but still, it was a direct hit. This time, I saw Wren’s attack coming and ran behind Mrs. Justice’s desk. I didn’t think Wren would shoot me. At least I hoped she wouldn’t. Sisters shouldn’t kill each other, even if they want to much of the time.
    “Let’s just go,” Wren said, smile gone. I had won, but it felt empty, which is why fighting with family is so useless. Every time you hit ’em good, it feels like hitting yourself.
    “I’m sorry.” I breathed it out. “For what I said. But I ain’t going home. I’ll call Sharlotte on her next run to Hays.”
    Wren’s pretty eyes were distant and that pretty mouth curled up in a chew. “Ain’t gonna be no more runs to Hays. When Mama died, she left us a whole stack of bills and no money, but Sharlotte has this crazy plan to save the ranch. We have to get home, right away. Funeral is Saturday.”
    What Wren said, it was as if she was speaking Mandarin. No more cattle runs to Hays? Sharlotte having a crazy plan? Sharlotte Weller was Sunday-straight, a clear-thinking responsible woman. She made Sally Browne Burke look like a whiskey-headed party girl.
    And it was Wednesday. No way could we get to Burlington in three days.
    Since Wren was talking crazy, I figured I might as well join her. “I’m not going back, Wren. Never. I’m through with the Juniper. And if I have to have a sister like you, I’m through with family.” Yeah, I clung to my denial, but I was so comfortable at my