The Rough and Ready Rancher Read Online Free

echoing through the unnaturally quiet house.
    An acrid smell suddenly permeated the air, followed by a vehement curse from Whiskers.
    â€œSkunk,” she said, covering her nose.
    Flint brushed past Jenna and Ryan to enter the kitchen. He coughed several times, then pinched his nose shut and scowled at Whiskers. “How did it get in here?”
    â€œYou’re gonna have to sit down and teach that young whelp of yours which critters to leave be,” Whiskers said angrily. “He thought the dad-burned thing was a cat.” He limped over to turn off the simmering stew, a colorful stringof curses accenting his steps. “Now we ain’t got no supper, and we’ll be takin’ meals outside on the picnic table for a month of Sundays. And it’s all your fault. If you hadn’t started your bellerin’, I’d a had it outta here before it had a chance to spray it’s stink.”
    â€œDaddy, I want my kitty back,” Ryan wailed from the hall.
    â€œWhen was the last time you took a bath, Whiskers?” Brad asked, stopping just inside the back door. The other ranch hands piled up behind him.
    Tom Davison fanned the air with his hat. “Whew-ee! This place smells like a cross between Jed’s feet and a damned old billy goat.”
    â€œWhiskers, did you finally die and somebody just forgot to tell you?” Jim Kent choked out.
    â€œOutside,” Flint gasped, bolting for the door. He stood in the yard taking cleansing gulps of air. When Whiskers came to stand next to him, Flint moved upwind. “Do you mind?”
    â€œConsarnit all. It weren’t my fault that kid got hold of a polecat.” Whiskers pointed to Ryan when he and Jenna joined the group. “I cain’t figure out how he kept from gettin’ bit when he picked it up. Those things can have the hydrophoby, you know.”
    Worried, Flint knelt down in front of his son and searched for any signs of an open wound. “Did it bite or scratch you, Ryan?” he asked, his voice sharpened by his concern.
    Ryan’s chin quivered and he shook his head. “No. What’s hydo…hydotrophy?”
    â€œHydrophobia. It’s another name for rabies,” Flint explained gently. He gave Ryan a reassuring hug. “It’s a dangerous disease some wild animals carry. That’s why I don’t want you trying to catch any more of them. Understand?”
    Ryan nodded, the matter forgotten. The wind shifted, and he wrinkled his nose. “You stink, Whiskers.”
    Clearly exasperated, the old man opened and closed his mouth several times in search of epithets suitable for ladies and young ears. “Well, you don’t smell like no rose, yourself, boy.”
    When his stomach rumbled, Jed asked, “What are we gonna do about supper?”
    His complexion a sickly green, Jim swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down several times. “How can you think about your gut now? I’ll be off my feed for a week.”
    â€œI can’t help it,” Jed complained, his stomach growling again. “I’m hungry enough to eat that danged skunk.”
    Whiskers folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I ain’t goin’ back in there till the place airs a mite.”
    Jed pointed to Jenna. “What’s she doin’?”
    Flint turned in time to see Jenna take a deep breath and head back toward the kitchen door. Several minutes later, tears streaming down her face, she deposited an armload of luncheon meats, condiments and two loaves of bread on the picnic table at the side of the house. She coughed several times, but to his amazement she didn’t stop. She headed right back inside.
    When she returned to add a six-pack of beer, several cans of soda and a bottle of tomato juice to the pile on the table, Whiskers elbowed Flint. “Don’t that beat all you ever seen?”
    She wiped her eyes with her shirtsleeve and slumped down in the