The Wolf in Winter Read Free Page A

forefathers had ventured so far into the interior to begin with, negotiating treaties with the natives that held more often than not, giving Prosperous a reputation as a town blessed by the Lord, even if itsinhabitants declined to allow others to share in their perceived good fortune, divinely ordained or otherwise. Prosperous did not invite, or welcome, new settlers without specific connections to the northeast of England, and marriages outside the original primary bloodlines were frowned upon until the late nineteenth century. Something of that original pioneering, self-sufficient spirit had transmitted itself down the generations to the present population of the town.
    Now, in Pearson’s General Store, cards were exchanged, and bets were placed. This was nickel-and-dime poker in the most literal sense, and it was a rare evening when any man went home with his pockets more than a dollar or two lighter or heavier. Still, bragging rights for the rest of the week could be gained from a good run of cards, and there had been times when Ben Pearson’s fellow players had chosen to avoid his store for a couple of days in order to let Ben’s triumphalism cool a little.
    “I’ll raise you a dime,” said Calder Ayton.
    Calder had worked alongside Ben Pearson for the better part of half a century, and envied him his hair. He owned a small share in the store, a consequence of a brief period of financial strife back in the middle of the last century, when some of the townsfolk had allowed their attention to wander, what with the war and all, and ancient, careful habits had been set aside for a time in the hope that they might eventually be abandoned altogether. But folk had learned the foolishness of that way of thinking, and the older inhabitants had not forgotten the lesson.
    Thomas Souleby pursed his lips and gave Calder the cold eye. Calder rarely went above a nickel unless he had a straight at least, and he’d flipped his dime so fast that Thomas was certain he was holding a flush or better. They always played with one-eyed royals as wild cards, and Thomas had caught a glimpse of Calamity Jane squinting at him from Calder’s hand—Thomas not viewing it as cheating if someone was careless enough to display his hand to all and sundry. It was whathad made him a good businessman in his day, back when he worked in corporate acquisitions. You took whatever advantage came your way, and you milked it for all it was worth.
    “I’m out,” said Luke Joblin.
    At sixty he was the youngest of the quartet, but also the most influential. His family had been in real estate ever since one caveman looked at another and said to himself, “You know, his cave is much bigger than mine. I wonder if he’d see his way to moving out. And if he doesn’t see his way to moving out I’ll just kill him and take his cave anyway.” At which point some prescient seed of the Joblin clan had spotted an opportunity to make a percentage on the deal, and perhaps prevent some bloodshed along the way.
    Now Luke Joblin made sure that real estate in Prosperous stayed in the right hands, just as his father and his grandfather and his great-grandfather had done before him. Luke Joblin knew the state’s zoning and land-use regulations backward and forward—not surprising, given that he’d helped write most of them—and his eldest son was ­Prosperous’s code-enforcement officer. More than any other family, the Joblins had ensured that Prosperous retained its unique character and identity.
    “The hell do you mean, you’re out?” said Ben Pearson. “You barely looked at those cards before you dropped them like they was poisoned.”
    “I got nothing but a hand of cultch,” said Luke.
    “You got nearly a dollar of mine from the last eight hands,” said Thomas. “Least you can do is give a man a chance to win his money back.”
    “What do you want me to do, just hand your money over to you? I got no cards. This is a game of strategy; you gamble when