Missing Patriarch (9781101613399) Read Online Free

Jenny. “We gotta talk.” Then he looked at Jesse and Simon. “You guys go outside and play.”
    â€œWe wanna eat pie,” Simon said.
    â€œIt has to cool down,” Jenny told them. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
    â€œOkay!” they yelled, and ran outside.
    Jenny looked at Jason.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œAin’t nothin’ wrong,” Jason said.
    â€œDid you get the flour?”
    â€œYeah, I got the flour, and some peaches, and I got some candy for the kids.”
    â€œHow’d you do that with a dollar?”
    â€œI’ll tell you later,” he said. “I got to tell you somethin’ else. What I saw.”
    â€œWhat did you see?”
    â€œCome and sit down,” he said, pulling her to the table. “Sit down and I’ll tell ya.”
    They sat at the table, across from each other, and Jason took Jenny’s hands in his.
    â€œI found him,” she said. “I found the man who can find Papa for us.”
    â€œWhat? Where? What did you see?”
    â€œI saw him,” Jason said, “the Gunsmith. I saw him shoot three men in the street, just like that. All by himself.”
    â€œWhat? Did you get hurt?”
    â€œNo, no,” he said, “I wasn’t nowhere near. I just watched.”
    â€œAnd it was the Gunsmith?” she asked. “The real Gunsmith?”
    â€œIt was him,” Jason said. “I been waitin’ for our chance, Jenny, and this is it.”
    â€œIs he gonna do it?” she asked.
    â€œI didn’t ask him,” Jason said. “I wanted to come and tell you first.”
    â€œSo when are you gonna ask him?”
    â€œTomorrow.”
    â€œBut . . . he won’t do it for nothin’, will he?” she asked.
    â€œThat’s why I wanted to talk to you,” he said.
    He got up from the table, went to the stone fireplace, and pulled off a loose stone. He reached in, found his treasure, and drew it out. He took it back to the table with him.
    It was a small bag, made of some sort of animal hide. It had been his father’s. He loosened the leather thong holding it closed, upended it, and let the money drop out, coins and paper.
    â€œJason!” she exclaimed. “Where did you get all that money?”
    â€œI been savin’ it,” he said.
    â€œYou mean . . . you had this all along? You know how much food we coulda bought with this?”
    â€œIt’s not for food,” Jason said. “It’s to find Papa.”
    She touched the money with her index finger, moving it around on the table.
    â€œHow much is there?”
    â€œNineteen dollars and fifty-eight cents,” he said.
    â€œI ain’t never seen this much money before.”
    â€œI was hopin’ ta get it to twenty dollars,” Jason said. “I think the Gunsmith would do it for twenty dollars. Don’t you?”
    â€œAnybody would do anythin’ for twenty dollars,” she said, “but will he do it for nineteen dollars and fifty-eight cents?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Jason said. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

SEVEN
    The next morning Clint was having breakfast when the boy walked into the café. He spotted Clint and came rushing over.
    â€œMr. Adams?”
    â€œJason, right?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWhat can I do for you, Jason?”
    â€œI gotta talk to you . . . sir.”
    â€œWell, sit down,” Clint said. “Have some breakfast.”
    Jason looked at Clint’s steak and eggs, and his mouth began to water.
    â€œI can’t, sir.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œIt wouldn’t be right,” Jason said. “My brother and my sisters, they ain’t ate this good in a long time.”
    â€œWhere are they?”
    â€œOutside, in the buckboard. They’re gonna stay there while I talk to you.”
    â€œBring ’em in, son,” Clint said.