The Last Stand (Book 3) (The Repentant Demon Trilogy) Read Online Free

yippy, high-pitched barks.”
     
    Abigail ran to take the dog from him.
     
    “I’m sorry if she disturbed you, Mr. McFarland,” Abigail apologized, but with a cool tone of voice.  “I forgot to give her the peanut butter toy that keeps her happy for hours.  It won’t happen again, I assure you.”
     
    “No, no,” the man said, “I didn't mean to say that she annoyed us.  Maybe you people don't know this country that well, or you'd have understood how that kind of bark carries really far in these hills.  We could faintly hear her from our front porch, and we knew how the sound must have been echoing into the woods behind you.  And there's nothing that's going to draw a mountain lion out of the woods faster than the sound of defenseless little puppy.  If hungry enough, it's libel to tear through a window or door to get at it.”
     
    “I'm sorry, I should be thanking you,” apologized Abigail, sincerely this time.   “Come in and have a seat.  We haven't met.”
     
    Brady McFarland walked in but said he had to get back home soon.  The man stared at Abigail as if he knew her but couldn't place where from. 
     
    “You look very familiar, young lady,” said McFarland, peering at her intently.  “I know I couldn't have met you before.  Maybe you just look like somebody I used to know, only I can't think who that might be either.”
     
    Then he said that he saw they were busy and offered to help unload the van.  Cal accepted his offer, since they were almost finished.  Abigail said she would put on some coffee and wondered if he'd like a quick cup before heading back home.   So within a half an hour the three of them were sitting at the old oak kitchen table drinking coffee, eating Pepperidge Farm chocolate chunk cookies, and getting to know each other.
     
    “You know, I think I should tell you that the little pooch's droppings outside are another signal to larger animals that there's a meal nearby,” McFarland advised.
     
    “No problem, I'll pick it up from now on,” said Abigail.  “We were used to doing that in the city anyway.  Do you think a baby crying would also alert the wildlife?”
     
    “Probably not.  I doubt a baby would be so high-pitched,” he assured them.   “You sure have a lot of stuff ,” he added after another sip of coffee. There's not a lot of storage in this cabin because most people were only staying for the length of their vacation.”
     
    “We had to bring our whole houseful of belongings,” said Abigail, “Since we had to give up our rental apartment, there was no choice except to pack it all.  And I didn't even have enough time to sort through and get rid of things we won't need.  I'll try to do that as I unpack.”
     
    “So this was a sudden decision, then?” inquired McFarland, almost to himself .  “If you want to put some things in my barn, you're welcome to use it.  I'll show you a good spot so that the animals don't get to it.  Goats will eat right through cardboard and the chickens will poop on it.  But there’s a good spot over in the cow section.  They'll ignore it.”
     
    “I like cows,” said Cal, getting a curious facial response from both Abigail and McFarland.
     
    “I like cows, too,” said McFarland after a thoughtful hesitation.   “But I didn't think city folk appreciated them much.  Have you ever been around farm animals, Cal?”
     
    “Not really,” he answered, stammering to find an explanation that would be more believable than that the Order of demon to which he had belonged, the Mullen, resembled humanoid-bulls.  “I've only seen pictures in books, but I admire their eyes and facial structure.”
     
    “Well you come down to the barn with me in the daylight,” said McFarland, proudly, “and I'll show you the prettiest little Jersey you'd ever want to meet.  Anastasia is my prize-winning dairy cow; she won three years in a row at the Wyoming State Fair. We still get a gallon of milk a day from her ;