The McKettrick Legend Read Online Free Page A

mares about creatures swimming in dark oceans under the ice covering one of Jupiter’s moons. Or was it Saturn?
    â€œDon’t get excited, Mom,” he said, with an understanding smile. “It’s going to be something like five billion years before it happens.”
    â€œBefore what happens?” Sierra asked, blinking.
    â€œThe collision, ” he said tolerantly.
    â€œRight,” Sierra said.
    Liam yawned. “Maybe I will take a nap.” He studied her. “Just don’t get the idea it’s going to be a regular thing.”
    She mussed his hair again, kissed the top of his head. “I’m clear on that,” she said, standing and reaching for the crocheted afghan lying neatly folded at the foot of the bed.
    Liam kicked off his shoes and stretched out on top of the blue chenille bed spread, yawning again. He set his glasses on the night stand with care.
    She covered him, resisted the temptation to kiss his forehead, and headed for the door. When she looked back from the threshold, Liam was already asleep.
    1919
    Hannah McKettrick heard her son’s laughter before she rode around the side of the house, toward the barn,a week’s worth of mail bulging in the saddle bags draped across the mule’s neck. The snow was deep, with a hard crust, and the January wind was brisk.
    Her jaw tightened when she saw her boy out in the cold, wearing a thin jacket and no hat. He and Doss, her brother-in-law, were building what appeared to be a snow fort, their breath making white plumes in the frigid air.
    Some thing in Hannah gave a painful wrench at the sight of Doss; his resemblance to Gabe, his brother and her late husband, in variably startled her, even though they lived under the same roof and she should have been used to him by then.
    She nudged the mule with the heels of her boots, but Seesaw-Two didn’t pick up his pace. He just plodded along.
    â€œWhat are you doing out here?” Hannah called.
    Both Tobias and Doss fell silent, turning to gaze guiltily in her direction.
    The breath plumes dissipated.
    Tobias set his feet and pushed back his narrow shoulders. He was only eight, but since Gabe’s coffin had arrived by train one warm day last summer, draped in an American flag and with Doss for an escort, her boy had taken on the mien of a man.
    â€œWe’re just making a fort, Ma,” he said.
    Hannah blinked back sudden, stinging tears. A soldier, Gabe had died of influenza in an army infirmary, without ever seeing the battleground. Tobias thought in military terms, and Doss encouraged him, a fact Hannah did not appreciate.
    â€œIt’s cold out here,” she said. “You’ll catch your death.”
    Doss shifted, pushed his battered hat to the back of his head. His face hardened, like the ice on the pond back of the orchard where the fruit trees stood, bare-limbed and stoic, waiting for spring.
    â€œGo inside,” Hannah told her son.
    Tobias hesitated, then obeyed.
    Doss remained, watching her.
    The kitchen door slammed eloquently.
    â€œYou’ve got no business putting thoughts like that in his head,” Doss said, in a quiet voice. He took old Seesaw’s reins and held him while she dismounted, careful to keep her woolen skirts from riding up.
    â€œThat’s a fine bit of hypocrisy, coming from you,” Hannah replied. “Tobias had pneumonia last fall. We nearly lost him. He’s fragile, and you know it, and as soon as I turn my back, you have him outside, building a snow fort!”
    Doss reached for the saddle bags, and so did Hannah. There was a brief tug-of-war before she let go. “He’s a kid,” Doss said. “If you had your way, he’d never do anything but look through that telescope and play checkers!”
    Hannah felt as warm as if she were standing close to a hot stove, instead of Doss McKettrick. Their breaths melded between them. “I fully intend to have my way,” she said.