attraction about Gale. Jo Lynn must’ve felt it, too. She found herself a little... jealous and resentful of Gale’s continued attention to Jo Lynn. Sunny wanted everything in her power to be rid of Gale, but at the same time, she didn’t want any other woman to have him either. The thought angered her. It gave her even more reason to want to shed him like a snake would dead skin.
Yet, she just couldn’t rid herself of him. He seemed to have pheromones that drove her wild. He could be sweet. Like the time he brought her a hummingbird feeder after she went ballistic on him when he told her he’d been quail hunting. Another time he had come to her door with an armful of yard gnomes, he and all of gnomes grinning stupidly. That occurred after they’d had a big fight over Igor, Hermione, and Cornflakes—her cats—and their right to jump onto the dinner table. Gale was against it, and had physically demonstrated his position.
Oh, yes, he hated her cats, and he teased her relentlessly, the big brute. He made constant fun of her dream-catchers and wind chimes.
“What,” he’d asked one time when she showed him her spirit garden and tried to explain it, “...you afraid the boogie man might get you?” She thought back to the day they first met in the woods. He tried to scare her with all that silly Hill Man talk. Anybody who’d lived around Tsalagee for any time knew all that creature nonsense, and she knew what he was trying to do.
Gale reminded her that no bunch of strings and feathers hanging from the porch, or tinkling things, would stop the Hill Man if he decided to come and carry her off. A couple of times when she was by herself she’d heard some kind of ruckus around the barn. It was late in the night, and it set her chickens and goats to squawking and bleating something fierce. It did scare her, but she didn’t own a firearm at the time, and wouldn’t have known how to use it if she did.
After one such incident, when Gale came by to have some coffee, as had become his habit, she told him about it. They sat at the kitchen table sipping her freshly brewed coffee made from the Columbian Supremo Organic beans Sunny had ground that morning. (Gale told her, much to her gratification; that he preferred it to Jo Lynn’s brew down at Arlene’s.) He listened raptly for several minutes, but eventually couldn’t contain himself from bursting out laughing.
“Was that YOU?!” She stood up with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. Gale couldn’t answer he was laughing so hard, but he did manage to nod and throw up his arms to fend off the blows Sunny had started directing at his head.
“You big jerk!” she yelled at him as she flailed her fists at him. “I thought it was a prowler. If I’d had a gun I would’ve shot you!”
After that, she bought a gun, even though she didn’t much like guns. But living in a somewhat isolated location, residing more or less as a single woman, she thought it would be prudent to own one. In the back of her mind, Goat’s past and some of his old associations gave her a tinge of worry... well, more than worry, more like the willies. She didn’t think they could trace her out there, but you never knew.
She sought out White Oxley, because she knew he had an extensive knowledge of firearms. When she went to his house and told him she wanted his advice on buying a gun for protection, he looked at her, and asked, “You know anything about guns?”
Sunny shook her head “no.”
White nodded. Finally, he said, “Believe I got just what you need. C’mon.” From the front door, he led her through the house to a room at its center.
White paused to unlock the door and led Sunny across the room to a five-foot tall metal cabinet on the opposite wall, unlocking it. He looked over the shelves for a minute then pulled out a wooden box. He opened it and lifted out a silver-ish revolver with a walnut handle, holding it up so Sunny could look at it.
“This here’s a replica
Yet, she just couldn’t rid herself of him. He seemed to have pheromones that drove her wild. He could be sweet. Like the time he brought her a hummingbird feeder after she went ballistic on him when he told her he’d been quail hunting. Another time he had come to her door with an armful of yard gnomes, he and all of gnomes grinning stupidly. That occurred after they’d had a big fight over Igor, Hermione, and Cornflakes—her cats—and their right to jump onto the dinner table. Gale was against it, and had physically demonstrated his position.
Oh, yes, he hated her cats, and he teased her relentlessly, the big brute. He made constant fun of her dream-catchers and wind chimes.
“What,” he’d asked one time when she showed him her spirit garden and tried to explain it, “...you afraid the boogie man might get you?” She thought back to the day they first met in the woods. He tried to scare her with all that silly Hill Man talk. Anybody who’d lived around Tsalagee for any time knew all that creature nonsense, and she knew what he was trying to do.
Gale reminded her that no bunch of strings and feathers hanging from the porch, or tinkling things, would stop the Hill Man if he decided to come and carry her off. A couple of times when she was by herself she’d heard some kind of ruckus around the barn. It was late in the night, and it set her chickens and goats to squawking and bleating something fierce. It did scare her, but she didn’t own a firearm at the time, and wouldn’t have known how to use it if she did.
After one such incident, when Gale came by to have some coffee, as had become his habit, she told him about it. They sat at the kitchen table sipping her freshly brewed coffee made from the Columbian Supremo Organic beans Sunny had ground that morning. (Gale told her, much to her gratification; that he preferred it to Jo Lynn’s brew down at Arlene’s.) He listened raptly for several minutes, but eventually couldn’t contain himself from bursting out laughing.
“Was that YOU?!” She stood up with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. Gale couldn’t answer he was laughing so hard, but he did manage to nod and throw up his arms to fend off the blows Sunny had started directing at his head.
“You big jerk!” she yelled at him as she flailed her fists at him. “I thought it was a prowler. If I’d had a gun I would’ve shot you!”
After that, she bought a gun, even though she didn’t much like guns. But living in a somewhat isolated location, residing more or less as a single woman, she thought it would be prudent to own one. In the back of her mind, Goat’s past and some of his old associations gave her a tinge of worry... well, more than worry, more like the willies. She didn’t think they could trace her out there, but you never knew.
She sought out White Oxley, because she knew he had an extensive knowledge of firearms. When she went to his house and told him she wanted his advice on buying a gun for protection, he looked at her, and asked, “You know anything about guns?”
Sunny shook her head “no.”
White nodded. Finally, he said, “Believe I got just what you need. C’mon.” From the front door, he led her through the house to a room at its center.
White paused to unlock the door and led Sunny across the room to a five-foot tall metal cabinet on the opposite wall, unlocking it. He looked over the shelves for a minute then pulled out a wooden box. He opened it and lifted out a silver-ish revolver with a walnut handle, holding it up so Sunny could look at it.
“This here’s a replica
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