Spirit Wolf Read Free Page B

again.
    â€œThat’s all for me, Lars. Wouldn’t do for me to drink any more before I see Edna. You know how those women are. Mary would be colder than an outhouse in a snowstorm if I showed up in my cups at one of her friends’ homes.”
    â€œAye. And I wouldn’t have to wait long to pay penance for my part in it either,” Lars said. “About the time you two stepped out of the door, Edna would be out here poking around for my bottle. Women just don’t understand how taking a drink now and then picks up a man’s spirits.”
    â€œWell, your spirits picked me up considerable,” Uriah said, and the men roared. The whiskey worked fast on empty stomachs and both were humming as they walked up to the house.
    They were met along the way by the younger Anderson kids, John, Elizabeth, and Joanne.
    â€œWhat are you kids doing hanging back like that? You know the Brues. Now go tell your mother and Ettie that we have company for the night.” The three drifted off like snow riding a cold wind.
    Ettie was the only student Nash’s age in the Lone Pine School. They were as close as girls and boys can be in that awkward time between childhood and adulthood. She was pretty, like her mother, and when puberty took the hard edges off her, she would be close to beautiful. Nash wasn’t really aware of that, nor did he ever wonder why when the cold was trying to steal the warmth from his bed he sometimes found himself thinking about her.
    Ettie was setting the table as her father and the two visitors came through the door. She glanced up, smiled, and went back to her work. Edna stepped away from the stove.
    â€œYou two know you’re always welcome here. Wash up and sit down at the table. I want to hear about Mary, and what brings the two of you out in weather like this.”
    Edna was a little taller than her husband, light-complexioned like him, but more serious. Not stern, just serious. Lars said it was his job to plow and pitch hay, and it was Edna’s job to take care of the kids and worry. She accomplished both tasks with great style.
    Lars said grace amid the twittering of the younger children, and they all settled down to eat. There was stew—chunks of venison steaming in a mixture of potatoes and carrots—set off with bread fresh from the oven and covered with slabs of melting homemade butter.
    While they ate, Uriah told the Andersons about the Pryor wolf, the contest, and the five hundred dollars.
    Uriah had just put a period on his last sentence when Lars stepped in to pick up the story.
    â€œSome folks,” Lars said in a hushed, conspiratorial voice, “say the Pryor wolf is a ghost that roams the prairie in the dark of the moon.”
    Lars’s voice dropped to a whisper. The children leaned forward in their chairs to listen to him, to hear this story whispered in the dim light of a kerosene lamp.
    â€œAnd when it’s dark, so dark you can’t see your breath on the night air, so dark you don’t know if you are alive or dead, you can see his eyes burning like two coals, searching the prairie for LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS TO EAT!”
    He ended the story with a hard slap on the table, and every child, Nash included, jumped.
    Lars whooped, and Edna grinned, trying to sound stern as she said, “Lars, you’re going to scare these kids so bad they won’t be able to sleep.”
    Nash’s ears were burning. He hoped Ettie hadn’t noticed how he had jumped at the slap. Imagine a wolf hunter jumping at a little trick like that.
    Lars grinned at Edna. “The kids know well enough by now to take their papa with a grain of salt,” he said. Then he turned to Uriah. “Smart to take Nash along. He can be a big help in the camp while you’re out hunting.”
    â€œNash will be hunting with me,” Uriah replied.
    Lars looked at Uriah, hesitating a moment before he continued. “Uriah, I’ve heard stories about