Argosy Junction Read Online Free Page A

are wet. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rugby.”
    “I’ve already enjoyed the hospitality of your sheep. It’s nice to meet you as well.”
    Lane eyed him curiously before she turned to her mother.” I got his name wrong. It’s Rushby.”
    “Oh I’m sorry, Mr—”
    “Matt. Matt’s just fine. It’s not a big deal. The world won’t end if someone switches a few letters in my name.”
    “Can you stay to lunch?”
    All eyes turned to Martha. Lane’s jaw visibly dropped. Tad, in the doorway, turned, and clamored down the steps, and Patience’s eyes grew so large it looked like Ping-Pong balls had replaced them.
    Martha Argosy hadn’t invited anyone to dine with them in over five years.
    “Thank you. I—”
    “We just ate. He’s probably stuffed, but we can try to shove more down him.”
    Lane turned to leave the room and stopped. “Mom, where is Dad?”
    Matt winked at Martha and said, “I would imagine he’s in the barn taking care of any injured lambs as any self-respecting sheep rancher should.”
    Lane did an about-face, threw Matt a scathing look, grabbed a large plastic tumbler from the cupboard, filled it with cold water from the fridge, tested it, and then added a few ice cubes. “There. Let’s go.”
    Just outside the barn, Lane pushed Matt out of the shaft of light streaming through the doors. “Careful. They’ll see your shadow,” she whispered. “Go around to the side, see where Tad is, and then come tell me.”
    “Yes, ma’am .” Matt inched along the side of the barn in an exaggerated way that drove Lane absolutely crazy. Seconds later, though it felt like several long minutes, he returned. “Okay, two guys are working with a lamb in the right corner stall. There are two boys around ten to fifteen years old hanging over a stall. I think Tad is holding the lamb’s head. Someone with similar boots and a hat like the one he was wearing is sitting there, but I couldn’t see his face and one of the men was blocking him.”
    “That should be Tad. He usually holds the lambs. He’s really good with them. Are there any other sheep around?”
    “Not that I saw, why?”
    “Don’t want to get tripped up. The boys won’t mess me up, so I’m good to go if I can get in without anyone looking at the door.”
    He watched from the other window, fascinated as she slipped through the door, went circuitously around the barn to behind the two boys hanging over the stall. One looked down and then commented casually, “Looks like we’re getting mice in here again.”
    Tad mentioned something about poison. Matt’s eyes grew wide. That voice was not coming from the guy holding the lamb. He gestured wildly at the boys, trying to warn her, but wicked grins covered their faces. Tad turned and shook his head saying, “It’s amazing how bold these mice keep getting.”
    Lane dumped. A head shot up to her gloating face. Her look of triumph turned into dismay and then guilt. “Um sorry, Dad. I—”
    “Towel,” grumbled the voice, and to Matt’s amazement, Warren Argosy used the towel to wipe the lamb dry.
    Lane began apologizing again, but a coughing fit stopped her. Warren threw her an irritated look. “Get out of here before you need more medical attention than this little fellow.”
    With a backward glance that told Tad and Matt both that she wouldn’t forget it, Lane shuffled to the barn door, hands in pockets and looking like a kid sent out of the way. Matt hurried to meet her at the door and try to explain. He found her leaning against the side of the barn wheezing and fumbling with an inhaler.
    “Can I help—”
    Lane waved him off and inhaled a deep breath of Albuterol. “I’m fi—” she coughed. “Fine. I’ll be okay. Let’s go saddle you a horse, and we can take a ride. I want to show you something.”
    To Matt, the next scene was ripped from the pages of his boyhood westerns and old movies. He watched fascinated, as she pulled tack from a wall, bridled the horses, saddled them,