Missing Patriarch (9781101613399) Read Online Free Page B

cleanin’,” Jenny said.
    â€œAnd me and Jesse do chores,” Simon said.
    Jesse made a face and said, “I hate doin’ chores.”
    â€œLots of people do, Jesse,” Clint said.
    Amy came back with a tray bearing a basket of biscuits and four glasses of milk. She set them out on the table.
    â€œI’ll get you some more coffee, Mr. Adams.”
    â€œThanks, Amy,” he said, “and just call me Clint.”
    â€œAll right, Clint.”
    â€œCan we call you Clint?” Simon asked.
    â€œSimon!” Jenny said. “Have some respect. You call him Mr. Adams.”
    Clint was going to contradict her, then decided against it.
    They all continued to eat.
    â€œSo, Jason, your father didn’t say where he was going.”
    â€œNo sir.”
    â€œDid he say who he was going with?”
    â€œHe did mention a name.”
    â€œWhat name?”
    â€œDonovan.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Clint asked.
    Jason looked at Jenny.
    â€œI heard it, too,” she said.
    â€œDonovan,” Clint said.
    â€œDo you know him?” Jason asked.
    â€œIf it’s the same man,” Clint said, “I’m afraid I do.”

EIGHT
    The kids finished eating. Clint made sure they had enough, asked if they wanted more. The two young ones seemed poised to ask for more, but a look from their eleven-year-old sister held them in check.
    â€œWe’ve all had enough, Mr. Adams,” Jason said, “and we thank you. But we’d like to know if you’re gonna find our dad for us.”
    â€œWell,” Clint said, “first I want you to take this back.” Clint pushed the bag containing the nineteen dollars and fifty-eight cents back across the table to Jason.
    Jenny asked, “Does this mean you ain’t gonna look for—”
    â€œJenny,” Clint said, “I just want you to have your money back. Use it to buy some food and supplies. As for your father, I want to take a ride out to your house with you. We’ll finish talking about it out there. How’s that sound?”
    â€œWell,” she said, “I ain’t cleaned the place up—”
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” Clint said. “Come on. Meet me outside after I pay the bill.”
    The four kids stood up and walked out of the restaurant. The other diners followed their progress with their eyes.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with you people?” Clint asked as he stood. “They’re just a bunch of kids.”
    â€œMcCall kids,” a man said.
    Clint ignored him. Amy came over and he handed her money for the breakfast.
    â€œDon’t think too badly of these people, Clint,” she said. “The McCalls have never been very neighborly to them.”
    â€œThat’s no reason to mistreat their kids,” Clint said.
    â€œI feel bad for them,” she said, “especially the little ones. Let me know what happens, okay?”
    â€œI will, Amy.”
    He stepped outside, found all the kids already loaded onto the buckboard. Jason and the small ones were in the back, while Jenny was on the seat.
    â€œYou can sit here, Clint,” she said, tapping the space next to her.
    â€œThanks,” he said. He climbed up next to her. “You mind if I drive?”
    She handed him the reins.
    â€œHow far do you live?” he asked. “Will I be able to walk back?”
    â€œIt’s pretty far,” Simon said.
    â€œBut you could walk it,” Jason said.
    â€œI got short legs,” Simon added.
    â€œYes, you do, little guy,” Clint said. “Okay, give me directions.”
    *   *   *
    Clint drove the buckboard to the McCall house, a rundown shack just outside of town. Actually, the horse pretty much knew the way, so he just gave the animal his head.
    â€œThis is our house!” Simon shouted as he jumped down from the buckboard.
    â€œI can see that,” Clint said. He got down, helped Jenny down, and